The light and shadow within the Map of Mountains and Rivers were a chaotic blur, yet wherever the crimson radiance shone, it was as though a crack had split open in the Dao Artifact itself, the fissure flickering in and out like lightning.
Layer upon layer of crimson light spread in all directions, swelling from scattered sparks into a tide, growing ever more turbulent.
"Fuck..."
A startled cry came from among the monks of the Hanging Temple.
Murong Xiao, who had just returned, froze for a moment. Who had said that?
After looking around, he discovered it was the old monk Heng Yuan, red in the face and thick in the neck, who had finally failed to hold it in.
Master had... broken his precept just now, hadn't he?
"Master, that was a truly clear and well-enunciated utterance."
"..." Heng Yuan fell silent for a while before realizing that he had already broken his precept. He would no longer need to use sign language from now on.
Nor would he have to be so enraged by Murong Xiao that smoke poured from his seven orifices, yet be unable to say a single word—such as when Murong Xiao suggested installing a rotating handle on the wooden fish.
The old monk had a bellyful of words he wanted to say to his disciple.
But before he could open his mouth, Murong Xiao asked again:
"Master, you have always possessed a tranquil heart. Why were you so shocked just now?"
"That Young Benefactor Li's was... a Dharma Body."
As he looked at the Map of Mountains and Rivers, much of the old monk's urge to settle accounts with his disciple faded away.
"A Dharma Body? Brother Li jumped straight from the Third Realm to the Sixth Realm?"
"For the moment, yes."
"How did