Urban Undying Lord
Chapter 622 - 622 641 Wuhua Temple

622: Chapter 641 Wuhua Temple 622: Chapter 641 Wuhua Temple The night sky was like water, with countless stars twinkling.

Each star obeyed the eternal laws, rolling thunderously across the heavens, their light bathing the world, coating everything with an unblemished sheen.

Little Stone Village!

The lights were bright, and the sounds of lively chatter filled the air.

Dozens of villagers had gathered at Uncle Zhuo’s front door, each face brimming with joyous laughter, the sound of mirth occasionally bursting forth.

Though it was already deep into the night, after a day of celebrating the Buddhist rituals, the villagers were still spirited.

They had set up a few simple banquet tables in front of Uncle Zhuo’s house, topped with some inferior wines and spirits.

The banquet was modest, with only crops like sweet potatoes, accompanied by some vegetables and homemade liquor, but it was enough to entertain the villagers.

Of course, the villagers didn’t just gather at Uncle Zhuo’s doorstep to drink and be merry; they wanted to express their gratitude to Ye Xuan, who, however, did not join in, merely thanking the villagers before closing his door to further visitors.

It was not that Ye Xuan was aloof by nature; he simply preferred solitude.

And he knew the villagers harbored some suspicion about his identity.

Had he truly joined the banquet, inevitably, he would have had to explain his origins.

Ye Xuan was someone who disliked trouble.

Thus, he preferred to stay alone in his thatched cottage, which spared him many inconveniences.

The night deepened, with the lonely moon high in the sky.

As the villagers returned to their homes one by one, Ye Xuan was met with a rare peace.

Yet, in this moment, someone gently knocked on his door, prompting him to rise from his bed and open it.

As expected, it was the grandfather and granddaughter.

“Big Brother Ye,” the little girl called out sweetly, her big watery eyes filled with admiration.

“Good girl, Zhuo Ma,” Ye Xuan answered with a gentle smile, fondly ruffling the girl’s hair, his eyes brimming with warmth.

“Young Ye, we owe you a great deal today.

Had it not been for you, who knows what trouble that Buddhist Envoy would have caused,” chuckled Uncle Zhuo, expressing his thanks to Ye Xuan.

“Come inside, let’s talk,” Ye Xuan stepped aside, allowing the grandfather and grandchild to enter.

A candle flickered within the cottage.

Now, in the depths of the quiet night, Ye Xuan spoke with Uncle Zhuo inside.

The young girl, being small, soon fell asleep in Ye Xuan’s arms, a sweet and innocent smile on her lips.

Watching his granddaughter asleep, Uncle Zhuo silently regarded Ye Xuan before speaking cautiously, “Young Ye, ever since you came to Little Stone Village, this old man could tell you were no ordinary person.”

“But I also understand that our little village can’t hold a divine dragon like you.

There will come a time when you shoot up to the Nine Heavens.

I just hope that you know, no matter when, Little Stone Village will always be your home.

If there ever comes a day when you feel weary, come back home to see me and little Zhuo Ma.

That would give this old man peace in death.”

Uncle Zhuo did not inquire about who Ye Xuan was, nor did he ask about his status.

He only knew that during the time Ye Xuan had been there, they had come to regard him as family.

Looking at Uncle Zhuo’s aged figure, Ye Xuan remained silent.

Just as Uncle Zhuo said, one day he would leave Little Stone Village.

It might be tomorrow or a hundred years hence, for Ye Xuan himself did not know when he would depart.

The quest for enlightenment, the chance for Quasi-Sainthood.

He stayed in the small stone village, by the side of the grandfather and grandson, where he sought the heart he had once lost, as well as the opportunity to step into the realm of a Quasi-Saint.

For Ye Xuan, this period was a rare time of quiet, devoid of strife and formidable enemies; there was only the peace and tranquility of Time.

Ye Xuan enjoyed these serene and peaceful days, using the time to introspect and search for what he had lost.

He elevated his spirit and honed his soul, hoping that one day he would have an epiphany of the path to Quasi-Saint.

A hundred years hurried by for Ye Xuan, but for mortals, a century was a lifetime.

Whether with emotion or without, Ye Xuan couldn’t define his feelings for the grandfather and grandson.

But he always understood a principle: the seemingly aged man had taught him a lesson about the human heart, and that was why he lingered in the small stone village.

If the heart is undying, all things remain.

Once the True Spirit emerges, the Quasi-Saint can be achieved.

Ye Xuan always remembered these sixteen words, the maxims left to him by Hong Jun, the Daoist Ancestor, which were also key to his opportunity to advance to Quasi-Saint.

“As long as I’m in the small stone village, even for just a day, I’ll ensure its peace for a lifetime.

I will treat little Zhuo Ma as if she is my own sister, and Uncle Zhuo can rest assured,” Ye Xuan whispered, making a promise to Uncle Zhuo and expressing his own stance.

“Ye, you are a person of great ability, but I am just a mortal bound to be buried in the earth sooner or later.

The only thing I cannot put to rest in this mortal world is my granddaughter.

If you wouldn’t mind, when I’m gone, take care of her.

Let her make your bed and fold your blankets.

That way, she’ll have family by her side and won’t be alone and unsupported.

I would rest easy in the Netherworld.”

Uncle Zhuo spoke and was about to bow to Ye Xuan, but before he could lower himself, an invisible force stopped his action.

“Uncle Zhuo need not do this.

Zhuo Ma is very well-behaved and sensible.

I will treat her as my own sister,” Ye Xuan said softly.

“Ye, thank you.”

The night was dotted with stars, and the darkness was like water.

That night, little Zhuo Ma stayed sleeping in the thatched hut, while Uncle Zhuo returned home alone.

Yet Ye Xuan, watching the old man’s departing figure, had a look of complexity in his eyes.

The bond of family is hard to sever, the most valued thing for the old man.

He was now advanced in years, and the only thing he held dear was his granddaughter, which led to his earnest request to Ye Xuan today.

Ye Xuan could see that the old man had only one year left to live, but he did not tell him this.

Although Ye Xuan could make the old man undying, mortals had their own destinies, and how many could Ye Xuan help?

“Uncle Zhuo’s heart is with Zhuo Ma, but where does my heart, Ye Xuan, lie?”

Under the veil of night, Ye Xuan leaned by the window and murmured to himself, his eyes filled with confusion, clearly unable to find the answer to this question.

…

Wuhua Temple!

Speaking of Wuhua Temple, it was a famous Buddhist temple in the Western Continent with a history of a hundred thousand years.

It was highly revered and worshipped the Buddhas of Western Lingshan, its popularity and importance not something ordinary temples could compare with.

The Thunderclap Monastery of Western Lingshan was renowned throughout ancient and modern times.

Being a part of the Lingshan complex, the abbot of Wuhua Temple, Master Fahua, had the cultivation of an Arhat, equivalent to the realm of the Luotian Mystic Immortal.

It garnered high esteem in the Western Continent.