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The Little Western Paradise.
The canopy of the ancient Bodhi Tree stretched into the heavens. Misty light flowed across the surface of its verdant leaves, and a holy aura permeated its surroundings.
An elderly monk as thin as a stalk of bamboo sat beneath the tree, eyes tightly shut, as inert as a boulder.
The white-robed, middle-aged Ji Yuan walked over, then stopped far away, clasped his palms together, and inclined his head. “Master, the battle at Martial Heaven Peak has ended.”
The elderly monk didn’t react in the slightest. It was as if he’d sunk into deep meditation and couldn’t hear his disciple at all.
Ji Yuan didn’t find this at all strange. He continued, describing the battle in full detail.
Unlike most of those spreading rumors of the battle, Ji Yuan had witnessed it personally. Thus, he could describe it in vivid, accurate detail.
But when he reached the end of his account, lingering confusion appeared on his brow. “I find it difficult to understand how a cycle of reincarnation could lead to such unbelievable changes. I still cannot be certain who this ‘Su Xuanjun’ really is.”
Beneath the Bodhi Tree, the aged monk’s eyes remained shut, but his hoarse...
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