Without a doubt, the so-called personal disciple was Monk Huicong.
Jiang Cheng fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Then the other monks we saw inside Chijie Temple..."
"They're all disciples of my Qingfeng Temple, but this evil spirit has robbed them of their minds." Ling Xiaozi was overcome with grief as he spoke of it. "And that's not all. Everyone who came to Qingfeng Temple because of its reputation was also bewitched by this evil spirit. Some even transformed themselves and claimed to be monks of Chijie Temple, indulging in lust and debauchery here. Others simply... Ah!"
As if something had come to mind, Ling Xiaozi sighed. Jiang Cheng recalled the scene in the Hall of Merit, the child's corpse being used as an offering, and understood what had probably happened to those people.
Suddenly, the meat mountain monk began to writhe. An even more horrifying sight followed: as the rotting flesh on its chest squirmed, Ling Xiaozi's body slowly sank into it, accompanied by the sound of bones being crushed.
"Daoist, are you all right?" The sight drained the color from the fat man's face. Putting two and two together, he stared at the meat mountain monk's bloated body and realized it had probably devoured countless people.
At this, a trace of helplessness crossed Ling Xiaozi's face, but it was quickly dispelled by the determination in his eyes. "It's all right. Right now, I'm only using a thread of vital energy to protect my heart. Even if you all rescue me, I won't survive."
He was telling the truth. Jiang Cheng could see that Ling Xiaozi was barely clinging to life; the meat mountain monk had crushed his entire lower body.
"Daoist, what do you need us to do?" Jiang Cheng knew time was running out. From