The Monk of the Reed

Guluo's miserable screams tore through the sky. The agony made it nearly impossible for him to maintain balance in midair; the scroll carried him forward in a staggering, weaving flight, steadily losing altitude.

Xiao Chen planted his foot atop a treetop, leaping from one crown to the next. His body became a faint afterimage as he chased for several dozen meters and threw his second sword!

The gleaming longsword blazed with dazzling light, streaking across the sky like a falling star, its long tail of radiance striking Guluo!

"Pfft!"

Blood splattered. The second sword found its mark again!

This thrust pierced straight through Guluo's chest and abdomen, nearly pinning him out of the air. His scalp-crawling screams echoed through the night, and a long trail of blood rained down from the heavens. Mortally wounded, Guluo mustered every last ounce of strength to control the painting scroll and flee at top speed into the distance…

Beneath the clear moonlight, Xiao Chen stood atop the treetops and let out a long, resonant cry into the sky. His hair whipped wildly in the wind, and his eyes cut like blade-steel. Tonight's battle had finally, utterly reversed his fortunes. He had vented the bitter anger in his chest—no more running.

King Qin Guang, King Yan Luo, and King Samsara climbed the treetops and gathered beside Xiao Chen. In the moonlight, the three snow-white skeletons gazed at the bright orb in the heavens, and the soul-light within their skulls pulsed with subtle fluctuations, as if they were remembering something…

…

In the latter half of the night, the beast roars in the mountain forest fell silent. An unusual stillness settled. Soft moonlight spilled through the woods like great drifts of white feathers; the forest was at peace and harmony.

Xiao Chen sat cross-legged atop a tree crown. Drawn by his circulating cultivation art, the essence of the moonlight flowed toward him like gentle ripples of water. A faint, sacred radiance swirled above the tree crown, making this spot especially serene and tranquil.

After fierce combat, Xiao Chen's body was hollowed out. The pure lunar energy was steadily absorbed, replenishing his nearly withered vitality.

The three skeletons, too, were quietly refining the crystals Xiao Chen had given them. Their snowy-white bones had gained a hint more luster, especially their skulls, which the soul-light made appear crystalline and translucent—almost as if they were turning to jade.

The night was peaceful and calm…

As the stars gradually faded, the eastern horizon began to blush with the first hints of dawn. Morning arrived. In the quiet primeval forest, birds were the first to stir, their melodious calls crisp and pleasing, soon joined by a chorus of beast roars.

Xiao Chen's entire body was wrapped in a veil of faint light. Several small birds hopped and chirped beside him—he had become one with nature. Only when he opened his eyes did the forest birds startle into flight. He felt his vitality surging, brilliant light flowing continuously over his skin.

He washed the blood and filth from his body in a clear stream, then ate an extremely hearty breakfast of wild game. Afterward, Xiao Chen set out with the three skeletons.

Great herds of stampeding elephants, winged divine leopards, golden centipedes as thick as water barrels, and a three-headed tiger king the size of a small hill… Along the way, huge and terrifying beast roars echoed continuously through the primeval forest.

Crossing ridge after ridge, Xiao Chen and the three skeletons arrived at his former residence. By the lake as blue as a sapphire, the bamboo hut still stood, exuding the fresh scent of plants, surrounded by draping vines and fragrant flowers.

They did not linger there. Passing through lush woodlands, they came to the seashore. Xiao Chen began to dry sea salt, planning to gather a sufficient store before setting out in pursuit of Zhao Lin'er and Guluo.

The morning sunlight was golden and brilliant. The three skeletons, who utterly loathed direct sunlight, hid among the coconut palms on the beach and refused to come out. Xiao Chen himself used coconut shells to scoop seawater and lay it out to dry.

But just then, he spotted a figure out on the sea.

A white-robed person rushed toward him from the deep ocean, cleaving through the waves like a divine fish! The image was stunning—the person was not swimming, but standing on the surface of the sea!

As he drew closer, Xiao Chen could finally make him out.

A young white-robed Buddhist monk, standing atop a wooden beam, moving with the wind like an immortal walking the waves—ineffably free and otherworldly.

A reed crossing the river—Bodhidharma's lightness skill! A supreme movement technique long lost in the mortal world!

Xiao Chen was deeply astonished. This was definitely a master, and one he needed to treat with caution.

The slightly salty sea breeze blew gently as the white-robed monk stepped off the waves and arrived at the shore. He looked at Xiao Chen with some surprise, but soon calmed and walked up onto the beach.

"You are…?" Unlike ordinary clerics, this young monk recited no Buddhist invocation and used no formal address. He spoke as plainly as any common person.

Perceiving the monk's extraordinary bearing, Xiao Chen introduced himself in the fewest words possible. He would have to coexist with the cultivators of this realm to survive in the World of Immortality.

The white-robed monk seemed very surprised. "My Dharma name is Yizhen." He did not use the humble address "this poor monk" but referred to himself as "I" like an ordinary person. Though his speech was unlike a monk's, he exuded a transcendent, unworldly aura, and in bearing he seemed like an enlightened true monk.

As the two chatted briefly, they unconsciously walked into the coconut grove. The three skeletons, sensing the approach of a living being, silently slipped away.

"Reverend Yizhen, what makes this island so extraordinary?" Xiao Chen had too many questions. Prince Zifeng, Guluo, and others had all come to this island for some important purpose. Now that Yizhen had also arrived, it was clear the desolate island was far from ordinary.

"This island is called Dragon Island. In the primordial age of desolation, a divine stele descended from the heavens, sealing it forever. All dragon tribes that could contend with the gods lost their divine powers entirely, imprisoned on this barren island."

Xiao Chen finally understood why the Eight-Armed Malignant Dragon—which could rival a sea god—and the Tyrant Dragon—a royal dragon lineage—were more bestial than divine. On this island, eternally sealed by the divine stele, they had lost their great supernatural abilities of old.

"Why did this happen?" Xiao Chen asked, baffled.

Yizhen understood Xiao Chen's state of mind and briefly recounted the ancient history of the World of Immortality.

"No one knows what occurred. After the dragon race was sealed, Sovereign Suiren, Sovereign Youchao, Sovereign Fuxi, and the other Ancestral Gods, as well as Laozi, the Primordial Lord, Lord Tongtian, the Buddha, and other mighty beings all vanished. In that era, some great upheaval likely took place, and those deities disappeared without a trace."

"How could this be…" Xiao Chen could not comprehend. He turned to Yizhen. "Does that mean there are no gods left in heaven and earth?"

"Not exactly. The World of Immortality is vast beyond measure, with countless races. The Ancestral Gods are gone, and powerful ones like Laozi and the Buddha have vanished as well. But legends of alien deities still circulate. Many things are difficult to explain clearly. You would need to travel to the boundless continent yourself to understand."