First-Year Internship—And You Went to Site 749 to Contain Monsters?!
Chapter 310: Di Chang Becomes Di Yue, The Buddha’s Disciple Meets the Taishui

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Among all the members of the Di family present,

Only Di Chang, the family head, survived this life-or-death disaster.

He leapt into the air—

Emotions clashed in his eyes: fear, confusion.

Then his gaze fell on Lu Ding’s shoulder, spotting the shoulder patch of 749.

His confusion only deepened.

Why would someone from 749 show up here, and strike to kill without even a word!!?

The questions swirled in his head, but no one offered him answers.

Lu Ding cast him a sidelong glance, eyes cold. “You think you deserve to float above me?”

A blade strike flashed.

While Di Chang was still airborne, it cleaved through his waist—cutting him clean in half.

Di Chang became Di Yue.

Blood sprayed in a violent arc.

The impact came in three distinct bursts.

Thump. Splash. Slam.

First to hit the ground was Di Chang’s lower half.

Then came his worthless intestines.

Lastly, his upper body.

The air, previously choked with scorched stench, was now filled with a rich, iron tang of blood.

Lu Ding stepped forward.

Wutian seemed to want to ask something.

Just then, Yan Feifan popped out of the ground, his body covered in all kinds of qi-concealing talismans.

He showed the monks from Lionheart Temple his 749 credentials.

“Official 749 business. Clear the area, non-personnel stay back.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, other members of the Di family, drawn by the commotion, started arriving.

Wutian looked at the ID Yan Feifan had just flashed.

Instead of backing off, he asked, “May I ask—has the Di family broken the law?”

Yan Feifan was worried this little monk might be one of those stubborn, self-righteous types you see in movies—spouting things like ‘one mustn’t kill recklessly,’ interfering with the mission.

So within the flexible boundaries of protocol, he replied, “Yes. Now go, or you might get caught in the crossfire.”

The moment he said that—

Wutian clapped his hands in a seal.

“Eight Guardian Deities—Earth-Walking Yaksha, Permission to Kill—Strike the Enemy!”

The Yaksha that hadn’t fully emerged earlier now crawled out again from the rippling dark void, twirling a steel fork.

Then the slaughter began—ruthlessly targeting the Di family.

The brutality was no less savage than Lu Ding’s—limbs flying everywhere.

Yan Feifan stood there dumbfounded.

This wasn’t the kind of monk he’d expected at all.

He discreetly pulled out his phone and scanned Wutian’s face.

Well damn—he hadn’t expected this, and the results shocked him.

Wutian clasped his hands in a respectful gesture. “Apologies. This little monk acted on his own. But the Di family’s baleful qi has corrupted the land. Once this is over, I’ll return with you both and accept punishment.”

Yan Feifan didn’t know what to say.

He could only wait, and let Lu Ding decide later.

Up ahead—

Lu Ding looked at the half-dead remains of Di Chang with satisfaction.

He asked coldly, “Where’s the Taishui Mine you were raising for the Heavenly Truth Sect?”

“Where’s the Wax Corpse?”

“And where’s that old piece of sh*t in your Di family who can’t break through to the Earth Survey Realm?”

Di Chang trembled, gritting his teeth against the pain. He had no strength left to resist.

The intruder was far too powerful.

And those three questions made it crystal clear—

Today, disaster had come for the Di family.

He probably wasn’t going to survive.

But he couldn’t let the entire Di family perish with him!

Even preserving a tiny bloodline would be better than nothing.

So the principle was not to tell—but...

“I can tell you, but if I do, you—”

“Apologies, Investigator,” Wutian interrupted, “but I know where it is—I can see it. Just kill this man. He’s committed too many sins. He doesn’t deserve to negotiate.”

Hearing that—

Lu Ding paused, falling briefly into thought.

Was this guy really a monk??

Even Di Chang couldn’t take it anymore!!!

The thought had just sprouted—his family’s only hope for survival—maybe not a great chance, but at least something to cling to.

And now—

Before the offer even left his lips, this d*mned bald donkey snuffed out the final ember of hope!!!

Di Chang snapped—mentally broke down on the spot!!

“You think anyone needs your fing ‘sight,’ you meddling bastard monk from Lionheart Temple! I’ll f your eight generations of ancestors, your mother—”

Before the national curse finished—

Lu Ding raised his foot and stomped down.

The remaining half of Di Yue burst like a watermelon, chunks of flesh flying in all directions, only to be sliced into finer bits by the passing blade wind.

Lu Ding lifted a hand. “Lead the way.”

The little monk walked ahead like he was strolling through his own house. “Amitabha. This way.”

Lu Ding followed, thinking to himself—this guy’s actually got skills.

And whatever this ability was, it had to be more valuable than the Flying Bear Pounce technique.

Lu Ding could smell the stench in the air, but he couldn’t tell exactly where it came from.

This guy, on the other hand, could see it directly.

At that moment—

Yan Feifan came up and whispered, “Brother Lu, they’re all monks from Lionheart Temple.”

“That temple’s done a lot over the years. Ordinary monks joined regular military forces to resist invaders.”

“The Qi Refiner monks helped Bureau 749—they killed a lot of hostile outsiders.”

“Over a hundred years ago, their High Monk even competed with a Daoist Celestial Master to sacrifice himself and stabilize the Great Han’s borders. He lost the chance, and it broke his heart.”

“Later, they helped exterminate an evil beast, the Rending Fang, and lost a lot of lives doing it.”

“That drained their upper ranks, and over time, they stopped being considered one of Buddhism’s sacred temples.”

“During the earthquake in Shu, a monk there broke three taboos to save over a hundred pregnant women—he entered the female quarters, cooked meat, and bled in the meditation room.”

“The sins he took on alone—the heavens wouldn’t save them, so he did.”

“In three months, 108 babies were born in the temple. To thank him, all 108 families cut a patch from the clothes their child had worn.”

“They stitched those patches into a single Hundred-Patch Robe.”

“Later, when the matter caused a stir, many Buddhist factions tried to discredit him—said he wasn’t a Qi Refiner and thus useless. They demanded he hand over the robe.”

“Lionheart Temple immediately stood up for him and fought it out. The Buddhist infighting got so bad, even 749 stepped in. That’s how the robe was returned.”

“That little monk we met today is that monk’s only disciple—Wutian.”

“His name comes from his master’s saying: ‘If Heaven won’t save them, I will.’ He later tested with talent and dual identity, then entered Lionheart Temple to study.”

“Eventually, he even awakened one of the Thirty-Two Marks of the Buddha—the White Hair Between the Brows. He’s now the official Buddha’s Disciple of Lionheart Temple.”

“He’s also the chosen successor of his master’s temple, which means he’s basically leading two temples.”

Hearing all that—

Lu Ding no longer had any doubts.

If that’s his background, then Wutian’s personality and actions made perfect sense.

Whether it was Lionheart Temple or his master’s modest rural temple—

They were worthy of deep respect.

Saving the people, saving lives, saving the nation.

Now that was a true master.

Up front, Wutian’s ears twitched—he’d heard every word Yan Feifan said.

His face reddened, but his steps grew taller, his back straighter, his chin lifted higher.

He was proud!!!

Instinctively, he was about to say something humble—his master had taught him well.

But he forgot—his White Hair Mark was still active, revealing the source of baleful qi.

He turned his head—

And saw Lu Ding’s body wrapped in thick, black evil smoke shooting to the sky, blotting out sun and cloud. It was terrifying beyond words—he looked like a demon king incarnate.

Inside that smoke, a sinister dragon twisted through storm clouds, staring down with chaotic pupils.

Above, the Twelve Palaces and the Jade Capital manifested in translucent outlines—like a heavenly court.

Within sat divine figures, their robes fluttering, lines of divine patterns etched across their forms, exuding supreme holiness and overwhelming dread.

All of that, concentrated into one man.

For the first time in his life, Wutian completely lost control of his facial expression.

Such a demon... and I thought I could... wait—no!!!