Two days later, Beijing.
A silver Mercedes-Benz slowly pulled up downstairs. Yu Jingzhong turned off the engine, took out a box of specially supplied Zhonghua cigarettes from his pocket, lit one for himself, and handed another to Zhou Hui.
Zhou Hui sat in the passenger seat, wearing a high-collared trench coat, his expression cold. He took the cigarette, lit it with a click, and took a deep drag.
“Brother, listen to me,” Yu Jingzhong said earnestly, taking off his sunglasses. “Don’t think about it. The more you think, the worse you’ll feel. If it’s hard to be alone at home, come stay at my place for a while. Don’t you like little girls? Our Minmin can keep you company…”
But Zhou Hui, as if suddenly startled from his thoughts, said “Huh?” and waved his hand.
“No… it’s fine.”
His expression was strange. It wasn’t as sad or angry as Yu Jingzhong had imagined. On the contrary, it was more contemplative—though it was hard to know what a man whose wife had run off for the second time could be contemplating. Any normal person would have had a stroke by now.
Yu Jingzhong studied his expression carefully and, after a moment, said tentatively, “How about… Wu Bei has been arranged to stay in the hospital affiliated with the special division. If you have nothing to do, want to go see him with me?”
“Not going. Lao Er was on his last breath on the road and still asked me to pull over specifically to buy him a volume of Tagore’s poems. He won’t die.”
“…Oh. Then—in a little while, it’s Yan Lanyu’s eighteenth birthday. I’m inviting everyone for a get-together. Are you coming?”
Zhou Hui’s expression was still listless. “We’ll see. Don’t forget to remind me to give the little beauty a red envelope then.”
He seemed absent-minded about everything. This worried Yu Jingzhong, but he didn’t know how to console him. After silently smoking half a cigarette, he hesitated and patted his shoulder. “—Brother, look on the bright side. How about I sign you up for a ten-day tour of Lijiang, Yunnan…”
“To find a romantic encounter?” Zhou Hui chuckled. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. I just… have some things I can’t figure out. I suddenly feel like maybe I can find the answers at home.”
Yu Jingzhong was a bit stunned. But Zhou Hui got out of the car, waved to him, and walked away without looking back.
Zhou Hui opened the door to his home and stood in the empty living room.
He had only been gone for a few days, but it felt like he hadn’t been back in a long time. The home had suddenly become so empty and unfamiliar. The evening glow passed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the balcony, reflecting on the wooden floor, casting a warm and old halo of light. On the coffee table in front of the sofa, the rosebuds he had placed in water before leaving had bloomed and were now in their full glory.
However, the person with long, messy hair tied up, a beautiful and pale face, who always curled up on the sofa in a sleepy daze, was gone.
Zhou Hui walked to the sofa and sat down, quietly looking at the empty space beside him.
After a long moment, he reached out and slowly, gently, caressed the empty air where the phantom figure had been.
“Phoenix…” he said softly, his tone gentle and lingering.
He actually couldn’t remember the last time he had called Phoenix’s name with such unrestrained affection. He had worn a mask of vigilance and violence for too long, so long that he had almost forgotten how to be a considerate lover, and had only grown accustomed to being a jailer twisted and burned by possessiveness.
This little phoenix, since when had he been suppressing his extreme reluctance to plan his escape?
And since when had he been silently observing and assessing his every move, constantly trying to guess the mind of this cold and ruthless jailer, and finally deciding to keep all secrets hidden deep in his own heart?
—The treacherous Heavenly Dao, the blood sea revealing its ferocious face, the tragic cries of his own child amidst a volley of thunder, and fate, waiting ahead with ill intentions, closing in step by step…
When he decided to bear all this alone, was he afraid?
His body was so weak that even his bone marrow had lost its warmth, yet he was pierced by a golden ring lock that could once again control his health to a certain level below normal. His situation was desperate and isolated, yet he had to bear the worry of being abandoned by his only love. The hidden pain burned like a fierce fire, yet he could not utter a single word…
Did his heart ever turn cold?
In what state of mind did he say, “If I do certain things, I might not die, but if you know, you will surely die”?
Was there ever a time, even for a second, that he was disappointed by his partner’s incompetence?
The last ray of the setting sun disappeared below the horizon. The world was vast and dusky, and the endless long night was about to begin.
Zhou Hui buried his face deep in his hands. The moment the afterglow faded, he was like a statue submerged in the dimness.
The Heavenly Dao was treacherous, living beings were numerous, and the road ahead was as obscure as a thick fog.
Perhaps the story had gone off track from the very beginning. Perhaps the moment he stood by and did nothing when Maha suffered the heavenly retribution, the tragic ending was already destined. Now Phoenix was gone, leaving only him, standing helplessly where he was.
Zhou Hui moved, finally raising his head, and then stood up.
In the darkness, his figure was solitary and even somewhat stark. After a moment, he walked towards the bedroom, paused at the door, and without turning on the light, went straight to the bedside table.
—Just like thousands of couples in the human world, their large bed in the bedroom had a bedside table on each side. The difference was that the cabinet on Phoenix’s side was always forced open, while his drawer was locked year-round, sealed with a talisman that Phoenix could never open.
Zhou Hui tore off the prohibition talisman, opened the bottom drawer, and took out a silver box from inside.
He opened the box. The crimson fragments emitted a beautiful halo in the darkness.
It was the soul fragment he had snatched back from the Snow Mountain Goddess. He had originally intended to return it to Chu He, but something Shakti had said made him change his mind: “—Can’t take this already? There’s more exciting stuff to come.”
He had thought about it for a long time, whether to pretend he didn’t know and just erase the matter, or to once again peek into Phoenix’s unknown memories and understand that history which he could no longer do anything about but was so incredibly distressing.
Logically, he knew he should respect each other’s space. He certainly had a past in the Sea of Blood that he didn’t want Phoenix to know about. But emotionally, he struggled so much that he hesitated for a long time and finally missed the chance to exchange the soul fragment back.
And Chu He never remembered this matter later. His spirit was too weak; thinking for a little while made him drowsy, and he couldn’t pay attention to many details.
Zhou Hui picked up the fragment and held it up to his eyes.
“If I do certain things, I might not die, but if you know, you will surely die”…
—However, death was not scary. The long, endless wait was the source of fear.
Zhou Hui closed his eyes, and the next second, he forcefully crushed the soul fragment.
A brilliant golden-red halo instantly rose in the entire room. Thousands of points of light swam and danced, transforming into a continuous, majestic glacier in the void.
—Heavenly Dao, Mount Sumeru.
·
Temples hung over the mountain stream. Countless huge golden-silk wood logs formed a suspended plank road, like a long bridge spanning the sky. The Phoenix Wisdom King strode across the railings carved with flying Apsaras. Below his feet was a ten-thousand-zhang abyss. His robe sleeves and long hem flew in the wind.
A young novice monk chased eagerly behind him. “Your Highness! Wait, Your Highness, Venerable Bhadra is in the front hall of the Buddhist temple…”
However, the Phoenix Wisdom King did not turn back.
He walked down the plank road, climbed the white jade steps leading straight to the peak of the sacred mountain, and stood before the nine-zhang-high gate of the Buddhist temple, which reached into the clouds.
The huge front hall was high, deep, and empty. Amidst the swirling incense smoke, the Venerables sat high on their lotus thrones. The Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King stood before a prayer mat.
“Phoenix Wisdom King,” Venerable Bhadra’s voice came from high above. “The young novice said you secretly released the hell demon captured by the Buddha from under the Vajra Bell. Is this true?”
Behind Phoenix was a world of high mountains, white snow, and lapis lazuli. He stood before the magnificent Buddhist temple, his hair dotted with fine ice crystals, sparkling like brilliant diamonds.
His face was as cold as ice and snow, devoid of any expression. After a moment, he said, “Yes.”
“Why?”
“…No why.”
There was complete silence. After a long moment, Venerable Bhadra asked, “What do you mean?”
Phoenix said, “There is no why. I wanted to release him, so I did.”
The Venerables looked down from their high lotus thrones at the Phoenix Wisdom King standing straight in front of the main hall. The emotions in the corners of his eyes seemed to be well hidden. From such a distance, nothing could be seen clearly.
“Do you know what kind of punishment you will receive for secretly violating the prohibitions?” Venerable Bhadra asked.
Phoenix suddenly smiled.
The smile was very subtle, so much so that one wouldn’t even notice it without looking closely. At the same time, the strange meaning in the smile was so obvious that, if one had to describe it, it even had a hint of provocation… even contempt.
“I know,” he said. “I will take the punishment in place of that demon.”
·
The Vajra Bell was ten zhang high. Every four hours, it would be struck ninety-nine times. The deep toll of the bell resounded throughout Mount Sumeru with a great tremor.
Since ancient times, only monks who had committed great sins would be thrown into the bell. With one strike of the bell, their bones would be shattered, their flesh torn apart, and they would be vibrated to death.
Phoenix sat upright in the great bell. Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King held the demon-subduing pestle and watched him quietly.
His eyes were closed, his eyelashes drooped lightly. His white robe spread out like a thousand-layered flower petal, his hair falling like a waterfall onto the hem of his robe, emitting a faint lotus fragrance from between the gaps.
Such a serene face, as if the fleeting fierceness in his expression just now was as absurd as an illusion.
“Are you sure?” Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King asked.
“…”
“If you go down to the lower realm now and capture that demon to be punished, you can still be exempt from the bell punishment…”
However, Phoenix still did not say a word.
Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King finally looked away. After a long while, he lowered the bell cover. Amidst the dull thud of the bell’s edge hitting the ground, he raised the demon-subduing pestle high.
—The first toll of the bell spread throughout Mount Sumeru.
The loud sound went straight to the marrow. Phoenix’s whole body trembled.
Then came the second strike.
The third strike.
The sound of the bell became more and more frequent, like thousands of horses and soldiers stampeding, or like billions of rolling thunders descending from the sky. Phoenix covered his ears amidst the violent vibrations, feeling only a frantic ringing in his eardrums and his blood rushing to his head.
The forty-ninth strike, the fiftieth strike.
In the darkness, the earth shook, rocks cracked, and a fierce fire roared up from the earth’s core, sweeping upwards with a demonic aura.
Flames roared and danced within the Vajra Bell, creating a grand spectacle of hell. Demons opened their bloody maws in the fierce fire, letting out wanton roars!
The sixty-ninth strike, the seventieth strike.
The tolling of the Vajra Bell ground every inch of bone into pieces, and vibrated the brain into pulp. In the illusion of intense pain, the ten thousand bells of the heavenly demons rang in unison, all the evil spirits and monsters came out, the vengeful souls of the hungry ghost path struggled to reach out their bone claws from the gates of hell, and the sea of blood churned up heaven-toppling waves—
The Phoenix Wisdom King finally could not hold on and suddenly spat out a large mouthful of blood!
The next second, a familiar figure appeared in the flames of hell, reaching out in mid-air to cup Phoenix’s chin.
—It was Sakyamuni!
Sakyamuni looked down, staring at Phoenix without a word, his kasaya dancing wildly in the black flames. After a long moment, he reached out and wiped the blood from that pale cheek, asking, “Why did you release that demon?”
“…”
“You don’t believe me anymore, do you?”
Sakyamuni’s figure was reflected in Phoenix’s pained eyes. After a long moment, he said hoarsely, “I…”
The demon-subduing pestle struck the bronze bell heavily, making the slender body tremble violently.
“…I just…”
“You just don’t believe me anymore,” Sakyamuni leaned down and said close to his ear.
There was no disappointment or surprise in Sakyamuni’s eyes, only the same indulgent smile as many years ago.
That smile was identical to the one in his memory, but it seemed to have an indescribable difference. Phoenix stared at him, his eyes trembling slightly. He gritted his teeth and swallowed the blood that welled up in his throat, carefully examining the face before him, not missing even the smallest detail.
Yes, he hadn’t changed.
Time had left no trace on Sakyamuni. This man who had raised him from childhood had been the same for tens of thousands of years, unchanging in the void of the Formless Heaven Heaven.
—What had changed were Phoenix’s eyes.
“You have met more people, seen more things, you have experienced more of the scenery within the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths. Now you recall the past in your memory…”
Sakyamuni gently stroked Phoenix’s hair, as intimately as in that distant youth, when he held him gently in his arms, combed his long, flowing, gentle hair, and then lightly planted a kiss on his slightly flushed cheek.
So many deliberate, lingering affections. So many dangerous, deep emotions.
“…You have discovered the little things you didn’t notice in the past. Your thoughts have gradually wavered amidst countless flaws. Your faith has collapsed with a roar as more and more truths are revealed…”
Sakyamuni showed his usual smile.
—That smile had once made the young Phoenix indulge in a fatal warmth, but looking back now, it hid a chilling coldness in its subtleties.
Phoenix panted heavily, averted his eyes, but the next moment his face was held and turned back.
“Is the wavering of faith so painful?” Sakyamuni asked, seemingly finding it very interesting.
“Since it’s like this, wouldn’t it be better to just keep believing?”
The tolling of the bell continued, each strike mercilessly drilling into his brain, shattering his internal organs into a bloody froth.
Phoenix opened his mouth, unable to make a sound. Blood flowed from the corner of his lips, past his chin, leaving a shocking trail on his neck.
“It was you…” he said hoarsely. “It was you who deliberately induced… me to like you…”
The affection in Sakyamuni’s eyes deepened, almost to the point of being unrestrained.
“But you still fell in love with me, didn’t you, my little phoenix?”
The ninety-eighth strike reverberated heavily. An invisible, immense force sent Phoenix sprawling forward. A thick mouthful of blood sprayed over a large area of his robe, even spattering onto Sakyamuni’s wrist and sleeve.
But Sakyamuni paid it no mind. He lifted Phoenix’s tear-streaked, beautiful face.
“Your pain comes from reluctance. Even if the truth is ugly, you still cling to that last bit of faith, unwilling to let go…”
“How pitiful… That was your only warmth, after all, my little phoenix.”
Phoenix gasped for breath. Finally, from somewhere, he summoned the last of his strength and said furiously, “—Let go of me!”
He slapped Sakyamuni’s hand away and struggled to stand up, but his messy hair and white robe slumped to the ground. His spasming fingers couldn’t even grip the floor. He looked utterly wretched. Sakyamuni looked down at him with an appreciative gaze. After a long moment, he bent down in the black fire and finally kissed Phoenix’s cold forehead.
“My feelings for you,” he said intimately, “are the same as before.”
He took half a step back, smiled, and disappeared into the void.
—At the same time, a figure shrouded in golden light flew out from within the great bell, soaring straight up to the ninth heaven!
Outside the bell, Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King, who was raising the demon-subduing pestle for the ninety-ninth time, seemed to have suddenly seen something incredible. He abruptly stopped his movement and stared at the sky in astonishment—he saw the auspicious clouds suddenly roil, and then an even stronger golden light flew from the sky, splitting the Vajra Bell in two!
—BOOM!
The great bell shattered. Thousands of bronze fragments rained down, creating a deafening, earth-shattering roar.
The golden light converged beside the Phoenix Wisdom King, forming a protective shield that blocked all the flying bronze fragments amidst the tremors!
Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King abruptly stepped back, the demon-subduing pestle falling to the ground with a thud. “Th-th-this is—?!”
Venerable Bhadra’s lotus throne descended. He threw his prayer beads into the air, which instantly transformed into a barrier that stretched across the sky. The brilliant white light illuminated the firmament, forcefully stabilizing the shaking Mount Sumeru amidst the tremendous noise!
Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King strode forward. “—Venerable!”
But Venerable Bhadra took a long, deep breath. After the tremors had completely subsided, he retracted his prayer beads and bowed to the sky.
“Venerable, that… what was that just now…”
“That was the Buddha’s light,” Bhadra said quietly, his gaze turning to Phoenix, who was kneeling on the ground amidst the bronze ruins, coughing up large mouthfuls of blood.
A certain doubt seemed to flicker in his eyes, but he said nothing. After a long moment, he turned and left.
·
The Vajra Bell, which had resounded on Mount Sumeru for a thousand years, was turned to dust. However, after enduring ninety-eight strikes of the bell, the Phoenix Wisdom King was still seriously injured.
This might have been a good thing for him, because the time had come for Mount Sumeru to once again send troops to attack the Asura Path.
Everyone knew that the Phoenix Wisdom King had become increasingly reluctant to go to the Four Evil Paths in recent years. The him who had once saved the Sea of Blood and emptied Hell seemed to have gradually quieted down with the passage of tens of thousands of years. More often than not, he would just sit under the Sal trees, quietly looking at the distant mountains, and the even more distant human realm.
And at this time, the Heavenly Dao’s attacks on the demon realm became more and more frequent, even reaching the point of almost wiping out the demon race.
After the Great Asura King was shot to death by Phoenix with an arrow in the Sea of Blood back then, the Four Evil Paths had been in a slump for over a thousand years. It was only in recent years, after a gray-robed Asura named Fan Luo had mastered a secret technique and dominated the demonic path, that they gradually began to catch their breath in the fight against the Heavenly Dao.
In order to promote the righteous dharma, the Heavenly Dao dispatched the Five Great Wisdom Kings to attack and conquer the Four Evil Paths in turns. And in order to replenish resources and gain a respite, the demonic path intensified its erosion of the human realm. It was said that in many countries in the human realm, the land was already scorched for a thousand li.
The war was like a nightmarish vortex, a cycle of repetition, without end.
Looking up at the sky from the peak of the sacred mountain, the view was boundless. The firmament was as blue as if washed with water. Not far away, the continuous snow-capped mountains rose and fell, like coiled azure dragons under the vast sky, reflecting the crystalline light of ten thousand years of accumulated snow.
The Phoenix Wisdom King lived here.
He had grown up here. It was said to be the closest place to the Formless Heaven Heaven of the God Realm.
Phoenix recuperated from his injuries under the Sal trees. Before him was a lake surface like a lapis lazuli mirror.
It was said on Mount Sumeru that the water in this lake was very warm, so the lakeside was covered with thousands of blooming flowers, like a huge and magnificent gem on the glacier. However, for outsiders, this legend was always difficult to verify, as this was, after all, an untouched forbidden land.
Phoenix looked at the human realm in the red dust beyond the distant mountains. His gaze under his long eyelashes was as calm as water. After a long moment, he asked without turning his head, “—Are you here to ask me to go to war, Venerable?”
Venerable Bhadra appeared behind the Sal trees and bowed with his palms together.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked instead of answering.
Phoenix sighed softly, finally pulling his gaze back from the distant human realm, and turned to return a bow to Venerable Bhadra.
“Let me guess…” the Venerable said leisurely. “You are thinking about why the human realm is in turmoil and people are displaced, with the dead littering the land for thousands of li. You are thinking about why the demon realm is full of wailing and incessant warfare. You are thinking about why the Heavenly Dao, which is clearly a pure land of Buddhist cultivation, has now become the overlord of the Nine Heavens, Ten Earths, and Six Realms…”
“No,” Phoenix said. “I no longer think about those things.”
Venerable Bhadra met his gaze and saw him smile slightly.
The smile was very light, like a feather brushing past his lips, so fast it was almost like an illusion.
“I was thinking… if the so-called righteous path and power can make people send troops to conquer and fight endlessly, why can some worthless things also make people use countless schemes to plot and possess them exclusively?”
Venerable Bhadra asked, “Are you talking about love?”
Phoenix did not answer.
“Love is not something everyone can have,” the Venerable said flatly. “Love is the most ordinary, the most common, the most worthless thing… Yet some people are destined not to have it. When such people see the love others offer them, they feel contempt and envy at the same time. They want to accept it but cannot respond, so they worry that if they leave this love unattended for too long, it will be offered to others…”
Phoenix’s expression changed slightly.
But Venerable Bhadra ignored it.
“Therefore, in order to possess it exclusively, one must use countless schemes and calculations to replace a response, so that this love remains before their eyes for a long, long time, and is not taken away by others in the long years to come…”
Phoenix finally stood up and shouted, “—Venerable!”
Venerable Bhhadra abruptly stopped talking.
The two of them stared at each other for a long time. The atmosphere was terrifyingly tense, as if even the flowing air had frozen.
“Don’t… don’t talk about Sakyamuni like that,” Phoenix finally said softly after a long moment. “Let’s not talk about this kind of thing anymore, you and I.”
He took half a step back, as if wanting to turn around and continue the silent cultivation of hundreds of years. But at that moment, Venerable Bhadra suddenly spoke up to stop him. “No, I came specifically to talk about this today—I have seen the cause and effect of the next three thousand years and discovered some things.”
He paused, seeming to hesitate, but still said:
“…About your eldest son.”
Phoenix’s figure stiffened, and he turned his head in surprise. “Eldest son?”
“Your original form is a Fenghuang,” Venerable Bhadra said very naturally. “—The Huang will bear two sons. The elder of them will be very evil and will be a great detriment to the Buddha. I can only see three thousand years into the future and don’t know what kind of detriment it will be, but there are always those with higher cultivation than me who can see further into the future… Perhaps a very turbulent and terrifying future.”
Phoenix’s expression was one of astonishment, not knowing how to react.
For a moment, he even thought Venerable Bhadra was joking, but the latter’s gaze was calm and serious.
“But why…”
“What is it?”
“…There is no pity in your eyes,” Phoenix frowned his long eyebrows, his expression a little puzzled. “Venerables like you who can see cause and effect, shouldn’t you always have pity in your eyes? Because all life is suffering in your eyes, and the calamities of the next three thousand years are an even more boundless sea of suffering that needs you to deliver them.”
For a moment, Venerable Bhadra didn’t know what to say and even showed a look of astonishment.
Such an expression was extremely unusual on the faces of people like them, who claimed to have great wisdom and great compassion. The Phoenix Wisdom King stared at him, tilted his head slightly, and waited for his answer.
“…I can’t feel pity,” Venerable Bhadra finally admitted after a long while. “Because I will also be involved in this calamity.”
When he said this, his eyes were full of unconcealed helplessness.
Phoenix instantly felt it was a bit absurd.
“The cause and effect that I can see, that person with higher cultivation than me can naturally see as well, so I came to remind you to be careful about everything. You have been indulging in the wrong feelings for too long. I think it must be very difficult for you to see more things…”
Venerable Bhadra put his palms together and recited a Buddhist chant.
“I have said too much today. I will take my leave now.”
Bhadra turned and walked down the mountain. Phoenix stood there in a daze. After a moment, he suddenly took two steps forward. “Venerable!”
Bhadra stopped.
“You said I will have two sons…” Phoenix paused, seeming to find it difficult to say, but finally asked, “Who will be their father?”
Bhadra turned back.
For a moment, Phoenix thought he would see on his face a slight reprimand like a strict superior, or a smile like a kind elder. But then he realized he was wrong.
Venerable Bhadra’s gaze was somewhat bewildered.
“I don’t know,” he said. “That person… he is not in the causal chain.”
·
He is not in the causal chain.
Phoenix sat in the great hall late at night, thinking about this sentence. The dreary moonlight reflected on the bluestone pillars, giving off a faint light.
He was covered in a wide robe, curled up, his long, soft hair spreading onto the bed.
Outside the great hall was a vast, starry sky and ten thousand li of glaciers. Inside the great hall, there was only him, all alone. The chill seemed to seep out from every corner, every crack in the floor tiles, freezing him from the inside out, inch by inch.
I just don’t want to be alone… he thought.
Many years ago, he was indeed not alone. Although no one cared about him, no one paid him any attention, at least he still had Sakyamuni. He and Sakyamuni, in this place closest to the Formless Heaven Heaven of the God Realm, in this world of ice and snow far from the mortal world and human habitation, relied on each other, depended on each other for survival, and passed one long, endless harsh winter after another.
—But now, everything was gone.
Even if the truth is ugly, you still cling to it, unwilling to let go, because that was your only warmth, after all.
Phoenix hugged his knees, rested his chin on his arms, and stared blankly at the cold, bright moon outside the great hall.
He often sank into nightmares and reality, unable to wake up. On one hand, there were the various puzzles and不堪 he gradually became aware of as he grew up; on the other hand, there was the ubiquitous, long loneliness, which cruelly reminded him every moment that if he abandoned that false warmth, he would have nothing at all, from beginning to end.
Nothing at all.
What a terrible thing that was.
Sometimes, late at night, he would deliberately numb himself, deceive himself that all the lies did not exist, and in a daze, he would have the illusion that he was still loved. However, the cruel truth would occasionally pop its head out from his nightmares, revealing a small corner of the injury, letting him see the rotting flesh and blood down to the bone.
Under this day-after-day, repetitive torture, sometimes he would even wonder why he was still alive. Although his appearance was stunningly beautiful, inside, he was like a frozen walking corpse, without a spark of life except for his breath.
The pain, like being cut by a blunt knife, was endless, and his eternal life was so long that he would even have thoughts like, I wish Sakyamuni hadn’t lied to me, or I wish Sakyamuni could come back and continue to lie to me—he really had no one else to think about. Besides Sakyamuni, there was only an absolutely vast wasteland.
He thought this wasteland would last until the end of his eternal life.
Until today, Bhadra told him that there was still a person who was not in the causal chain, who would appear in his life like a divine soldier descending from heaven and have two children with him.
Phoenix leaned against the cold bed, slowly lost in thought.
Not in the causal chain, what would that be like?
A human? A demon?
Or a ghost?
It doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter what kind of creature. As long as such a person appeared, so that in the endless long nights to come, he would not have to comfort himself with false lies, anything would be fine.
—Then, what would his two children be like? Phoenix brushed aside the long hair that had fallen to the side of his face and couldn’t help but start to wonder.
Will they look like me? Will they be obedient?
Will they grow up together, keeping each other company?
He looked down at his slender hands. These hands had once delivered thousands of vengeful spirits, slain countless demons, and been stained with innumerable amounts of blood for a so-called “righteous path” that even he himself was very confused about. But from now on, they finally had a real purpose.
They could take care of and protect his children, forever shielding them from all disasters and misfortunes.
That mysterious person who was not in the causal chain could leave at any time, but his own bloodline would never leave.
Phoenix closed his eyes in unparalleled peace and fell into a deep, sweet sleep.
It was the first time in many years that he had truly fallen asleep, instead of lying with his eyes open in the bone-chilling cold, waiting minute by minute for dawn. He even dreamed. He dreamed of cuddling with Sakyamuni in his youth, watching the Milky Way stretch across the sky. The warmth in the dream was like soaking in a warm current in the middle of winter, so real it almost brought tears to his eyes. Suddenly, Sakyamuni’s face turned into that of a person with a blurred face, with a safe embrace and strong arms, his breath hot and long, as if he could accompany him for a very, very long time.
Phoenix felt very happy in his sleep and couldn’t help but curl up into a ball.
But then, a prick of vigilance against danger pierced his consciousness, making his eyelids twitch in his sleep.
—Someone’s presence.
Someone was standing by his bed.
Phoenix’s eyes flew open. He saw a person standing against the light in the darkness, tall and familiar, his gaze extremely oppressive, staring intently at him.
—It was Trailokyavijaya Wisdom King.
