The Buddha Dharma Form before him was so sacred and solemn, so real and perfect, that it seemed almost like a true Buddha manifesting in the mortal world!
Even Holy Monk Baojia, whose heart was usually steady as a mountain and unmoved by the collapse of the heavens, could not help staring in shock.
At that moment, as the Buddha's phantom appeared, the chanting of ten thousand monks that had filled the spiritual world stopped abruptly.
Countless golden lotuses tilted toward the Buddha of their own accord, as though bowing in devout worship.
"Baojia."
A vast voice exploded in Holy Monk Baojia's heart, making him shudder.
The Buddha in the void slowly raised his right hand. His fingers were slender, long, and flawless, a hazy radiance gathering at their tips. His gaze remained compassionate and serene as he looked down at Holy Monk Baojia, who stood as still as a clay statue.
"Your meditative heart is not yet firm, and your eye of wisdom is not yet clear. All you see is illusion; all you cling to is emptiness. Go into the cycle of reincarnation. Endure the deepest suffering and the greatest bliss, see through illusion, then resume your cultivation."
As the words faded, that fingertip gently pressed forward. Dazzling light flared, swallowing Holy Monk Baojia's entire field of vision and plunging him into utter darkness.
Whoosh.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself sprawled across a boundless desert. The blazing sun scorched the sky above, the sand burned beneath him, and hunger and thirst gnawed at his belly.
Then, a spring appeared out of nowhere several paces ahead. Its waters rippled, its mist sweet and refreshing. Without thinking, he hurried forward and reached out with both hands to scoop up the water. But the instant his fingers