Immortal Travel of Longevity

Sitting before the Buddha, he forgot the passing of the years; with Sanskrit chants filling his ears, a thousand-year dream took hold.

For Jiu Fengchun, the days spent in the Thousand Buddha Hall were incredibly peaceful. For a long time, he no longer needed to feed on Spiritual Energy.

He did not even feel hunger. In the blink of an eye, he felt he had become an ordinary mortal—a part of the teeming masses, rather than an anomaly.

Immersed in this tranquility, he came alive once more.

...

As Shizhen gazed out at the endlessly flowing river, the figure standing before him seemed to wear a thousand faces, forever shifting and impossible to discern.

The inner demon looked at him and said, "Monk, the storm is here. What are you hesitating for?"

Shizhen closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "To sacrifice one person to reshape heaven and earth... is this truly for the best?"

The inner demon laughed. "Why wouldn't it be? To kill one person and save millions—why wouldn't that be for the best?"

As a Venerable One of the Buddhist Schools, there were always things he had yet to comprehend across the long cycles of Reincarnation.

But now, for the sake of the Buddhist Schools, he had set foot upon a path of no return.

"You can no longer turn back," the inner demon said.

"Amitabha..."

Shizhen let out a long sigh and wearily closed his eyes.

The inner demon scoffed. "I will naturally fulfill what I promised you. You need not worry. Though I have many schemes, my promises are never false."

Shizhen nodded slightly. "The prosperity of the Buddhist Schools rests entirely in your hands, Almsgiver."

A smile curled the corners of the inner demon's lips.

Soon. Very soon... Everything would be complete.

He had finally reached this day.

Yet, there was still one major problem right in front of him.

Those scholar-cultivators, who refused to yield to hard or soft tactics alike, were indeed a nuisance.

He still needed to make one more trip.

...

After that incident, Kong Ru grew even more certain of his convictions. He rushed back to the Mortal World, desperate to find this answer.

In the Imperial Court, governed by scholars, numerous doctrines and principles had been drawn upon and organized, playing a tremendous role in ruling the realm.

A scene of thriving prosperity unfolded before Kong Ru's eyes.

As he traveled across the mountains and rivers, witnessing these magnificent sights, a profound strength of character welled up within him. Suddenly, he had his answer.

"So it really is like this..."

He exhaled softly, as if making a decision in that very moment.

He no longer had the time to overthink it.

As a Saint of the Literary Dao, seeing this era of worldly prosperity, he could not help but be deeply moved. No matter how long a person lived, they would not necessarily leave behind a great name. True Cultivation meant prolonging the age of this Great Dao—endlessly and inexhaustibly. As long as the mind did not die, the Dao would never be extinguished.

Hearing his words, Xiao Dongxu was taken aback.

"It is still too early," Xiao Dongxu said. "In this span of time, no real changes can be seen yet. You still need to wait—keep waiting."

"I cannot wait any longer," Kong Ru looked up and murmured. "The time left to us is no longer enough. The qi destiny of heaven and earth is constantly shifting, and the great catastrophe is right before our eyes. We have no time left."

Xiao Dongxu furrowed his brow. "Is this truly worth it?"

Kong Ru smiled warmly. Stroking his beard, he replied, "Naturally, it is worth it. If I can extend this Great Dao for endless ages, how could it not be worth it?"

"And if no one remembers you, what then?"

"The world will not remember me, but it will remember my thoughts. That is enough. As long as my thoughts do not die, I shall live on. This is the Great Dao."

Xiao Dongxu sighed softly and offered no further words of persuasion.

...

The years flew by, and the Sanskrit chants in the Thousand Buddha Hall constantly weakened.

The Buddhist cultivators situated in the hall gradually aged through those endless years of reciting scriptures. Wrinkles formed on their faces, their hair turned white, and the wooden fish they struck no longer resonated with the strength they once had.

But Jiu Fengchun, resting among them, remained entirely unaware of the passage of time.

Every time he woke, Monk Shizhen would tell him he had been asleep for a long time.

"Zen Master, how many days did I dream this time?"

"More than half a year."

Hearing this, Jiu Fengchun could not help but be stunned.

The duration of his great dreams was growing longer and longer.

In his mind, it seemed he had been dreaming for nearly a hundred years.

When he looked up and saw these aging Buddhist cultivators, a bitter feeling welled up in his heart.

"Have you comprehended the Great Dao, Almsgiver?"

Jiu Fengchun snapped back to reality and shook his head as before.

"What is the Great Dao?"

Shizhen smiled. "To this poor monk, the prosperity of the Buddhist Schools is the Great Dao. You must have your own Dao, Almsgiver."

Utterly baffled, Jiu Fengchun could only shake his head.

He did not understand the Dao. All along, he had merely been struggling to survive.

So no matter what the monk said, he could not comprehend what the Dao was supposed to be.

He fell silent, unable to think the question through.

His time spent dreaming grew longer and longer, and the Buddhist kingdom before him gradually became clearer.

Immersed in this great dream, he felt much closer to the Buddha.

Jiu Fengchun considered this a good thing. He felt that if he could also comprehend this Mahayana Dharma, he might be able to control his own desires.

But reality dealt him a heavy blow.

After a span of time, he awoke from amidst the Sanskrit chants.

He suddenly realized that several of the surrounding Buddhist cultivators were missing. Looking up, he saw a set of withered bones sitting in one of their places!

Startled, Jiu Fengchun hastily cried out:

"Zen Master!"

Shizhen opened his eyes and waved his hand.

"Zen Master, that monk..."

But when Jiu Fengchun looked again, the set of withered bones he had just seen had reverted to the amiable monk who had always sat there.

Jiu Fengchun froze, completely bewildered.

"What is wrong, Almsgiver?" Monk Shizhen asked.

Jiu Fengchun snapped back to reality and shook his head. "Perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me."

Shizhen smiled warmly. "You are not fully awake yet, Almsgiver."

"Perhaps."

Jiu Fengchun muttered, still feeling that something was off.

Just like that, nearly another hundred years passed.

Jiu Fengchun did not know how many dreams he had fallen into.

From a few days at the very beginning, to half a year, to now waking only once every few years.

His time spent dreaming was stretching longer and longer.

Yet, the Sanskrit chants never once ceased.

Until this day, when he woke up again, and everything had completely changed.

Looking up, he saw that the pavilion was filled with withered bones.

The Buddhist cultivators still maintained the postures they held in life, as if still striking their wooden fish.

And the Thousand Buddha Hall itself seemed to have aged, covered in the heavy traces of the years.

Jiu Fengchun stared blankly at the scene before him.

The Buddha light here had faded away, though he did not know when.

He rose to his feet, searching everywhere.

"Zen Master!"

"Zen Master!!"

Jiu Fengchun ran out of the hall.

There, he saw an aged monk standing before the pavilion, gazing out at the flowing river.

"Zen Master, what happened to them? How did they all end up like this? Exactly how long have I been dreaming? How long?"

Monk Shizhen let out a long sigh. "How long do you think you have been dreaming, Almsgiver?"

"Ten years? A few decades?" Jiu Fengchun guessed blankly.

Monk Shizhen chanted the name of Buddha.

"Amitabha."

"You have been here... for only five years."

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