The Two-Faced Buddha Head and a Fateful Opportunity

The guttering candle swayed in the wind, stretching their shadows into twisted centipedes.

On the altar, tiny beads of blood began seeping from the severed neck of the moss-speckled clay statue.

Apart from Zhang Xuan, no one noticed this strange phenomenon.

As he pondered the small text that had appeared out of thin air, Zhang Xuan turned his gaze toward the grandfather and grandson.

He first glanced at the old man and the boy, whose expressions were as vacant as wooden puppets. Ever since Zhang Xuan had opened his eyes, they had remained motionless, as though struck by an immobilization spell.

Seeing Zhang Xuan look his way, the vacant old man suddenly moved.

"Have a piece of flatbread to warm yourself." The old man pulled an oil-paper parcel from his clothes, his movements as mechanical as a marionette's.

When he peeled back the paper, a putrid stench swept toward them with drifting ash. Everyone froze. The fried flatbread in his hands was covered in gray-green mold, long spoiled after sitting for who knew how long, and crawling with maggots.

An eerie smile spread across the old man's face, its wrinkles a web of cobwebs, while maggots pattered from his toothless gums.

Monk frowned and moved to stop him, only to discover that Zhang Xuan was actually reaching for the bread. But the instant he touched it, its crumbs turned to ash.

The boy suddenly rose onto his tiptoes, his neck bending backward at an impossible angle. His wildly off-key song shook the rafters:

"A crescent moon hangs on the treetop~ A headless bodhisattva sits on a lotus throne~" The ruined temple's beams and pillars trembled with it, sending dust cascading down.

The old man abruptly clapped a hand over the boy's mouth, but Zhang Xuan saw it clearly—the old man's palm passed through the boy's cheek as though through a bank of mist.

Now, not only Zhang Xuan but also Monk and Meng Changxi noticed something was wrong. Both rose and backed aside, studying the old man and the boy with startled, uncertain eyes.

"Wh... what's going on?" Meng Changxi quietly took a step back and hid behind Monk.

His brows tightly knitted, Monk picked up the cloth bundle by his feet and rummaged through it...

For some unknown reason, after the boy finished humming that strange mountain song, their figures blurred and vanished.

All that remained were the pine needles shaken loose from the bundle of firewood on the old man's back and the little wooden horse the boy had been playing with.

A downpour struck without warning, the drops hitting the roof tiles with the sound of scratching fingernails. The temple doors slammed shut, and bloody tears suddenly streamed down the faded portraits of the door gods.

The wooden horse left behind by the boy began spinning on its own. Its bloodstained mane bristled, each hair gouging deep marks into the blue-brick floor:

—Run!

—Run!

—Run!

Meng Changxi was horrified. Pointing at the spot where the two had vanished, his entire body of fat shook like chaff in a sieve. He trembled, unable to utter a word.

Monk turned toward Zhang Xuan. Seeing him stare unblinkingly at the altar, he followed his gaze. Yet to his eyes, the clay statue remained a clay statue, and the shrine remained a shrine. Nothing seemed amiss.

"Daoist, what have you discovered?"

At Monk's question, Zhang Xuan sighed and waved a hand at the two of them. "They did what they could. Just a pair of poor souls."

When Zhang Xuan's gaze swept across Monk Sanjie, a ghostly light flickered in his left eye, and lines of small text materialized above Monk's gleaming bald head.

[Name: Monk Sanjie]

[Category: Human]

[Realm: Iron Bone Realm martial artist]

[Status: Formless Prajna, innate divine strength, hatred of evil as a mortal enemy]

It seemed that [Nether Candle Mystic Eyes] could list detailed information about any person or object he saw.

"Innate divine strength" was easy enough to understand, but what abilities were "Formless Prajna" and "hatred of evil as a mortal enemy"?

Although Zhang Xuan wanted to get to the bottom of all this, he knew now was not the time to ponder it.

What truly demanded attention in this ruined temple was...

As he spoke, a ghostly light flickered in Zhang Xuan's left eye, and he turned his gaze toward the shrine on the altar—

[Name: Two-Faced Buddha Head]

[Category: Buddha Treasure (corrupted)]

[Quality: Treasure Artifact (mid-grade)]

[Threat level: Orange]

[Description: Originally the Mountain God's Buddha head. After being corrupted, it received the sacrifice of nine hundred and ninety-six human heads. Having gathered their spiritual essence, it has approached minor attainment. A cultivator of the Daoist Tradition who obtains it can use the Five Thunder Righteous Art to eradicate the karmic obstructions within. Once ground into powder, it can be made into Realm-Breaking Pills or Marrow-Washing Body-Refining Pills, or used in artifact crafting. It can be ritually refined into a magical artifact of Spirit Treasure quality at most.]

[Note: 1. Realm-Breaking Pill (usable in the three lower realms: Foundation Establishment, Light Opening, and Meridian Opening)]

[Note: 2. Marrow-Washing Body-Refining Pill (a basic pill that can help mortals embark upon the path of cultivation)]

The information about the "Two-Faced Buddha Head" lingered in his vision for a moment before disappearing.

"Nine hundred and ninety-six human heads sacrificed..."

Nine is the utmost number, and three nines make one cycle...

Thus, even without consulting the [Inner Landscape], Zhang Xuan could guess what this "Wild God" was scheming—the bastard had its sights set on their heads!

Yet when he saw the words "Marrow-Washing Body-Refining Pill" at the end, his gaze shifted slightly...

He suspected that this uncanny "Wild God" was the fateful opportunity the "Celestial Master's Ordination" had prepared for him!

He glanced once more at the "Headless Corpse Buddha," sitting upright on the altar and still in a state of nirvana, and sighed softly.

This Buddha head was much like the inner cores of demons and monsters in tales of rural marvels: it was the source of the "Headless Corpse Buddha's" power.

Judging by the terrifying force, like a hundred ghosts wailing in the night, that the "Headless Corpse Buddha" had unleashed when Meng Changxi took the Buddha head out of the shrine earlier, seizing it with his current abilities was nothing but a fool's dream.

While thoughts raced through Zhang Xuan's mind, Meng Changxi had already taken his clothes off the drying rack and put them on. He hurried over to Zhang Xuan and asked, "Daoist Master, do you know something?"

Zhang Xuan casually stepped aside, avoiding Meng Changxi's hand as it reached out to grab him...

Through the vision of [Nether Candle Mystic Eyes], Meng Changxi's right hand was still coated in large patches of the slick fluid that had flowed from that uncanny Buddha head.

[Name: Meng Changxi]

[Category: Human]

[Realm: Copper Skin Realm martial artist]

[Status: Parasitized]

The words "Copper Skin Realm martial artist" confirmed Zhang Xuan's suspicions.

A "Copper Skin Realm martial artist" who calls himself a scholar? There really is something wrong with this man!

And "parasitized" explained why, despite Meng Changxi having returned the Buddha head to the shrine, thick black fluid kept dripping from the fingertips of his right hand, as though the foul-smelling liquid were being produced inside his body.

When Zhang Xuan merely stared at him without speaking, Meng Changxi grew unnerved. A barely perceptible shadow of gloom crossed his round, plump face, which had been smiling all this time, but it vanished in an instant.

"Master?"

"There's something strange about this temple..."

"Strange? Of course I know it's strange! Two living people vanished right before our eyes. How could it not be strange?"

Meng Changxi wanted to press him further, but Zhang Xuan paid him no more attention.

Seeing Zhang Xuan behave like this, Meng Changxi frowned and turned toward Monk Sanjie.

Monk Sanjie had remained silent. Since Zhang Xuan's brief rest, his emotions had swung wildly; not only had he looked frightened and uneasy, but his words had also carried intriguing implications. When Meng Changxi looked over, he shook his head slightly.

"Benefactor Meng, Daoist Master Zhang must have his reasons for saying this. Please be patient and remain calm."

Compared with Meng Changxi, whose origins were unknown, Monk clearly trusted Zhang Xuan more. Rather than digging down to the roots, he gave a light chuckle, intending to smooth the matter over.

Crack!

Another bolt of lightning tore across the sky overhead, washing the ruined wilderness temple in a deathly white...