That night, it turned out that Shi Jingzhi’s words were correct. Yan Budu had just returned to the cave when he started vomiting blood non-stop, as if he wanted to empty his entire body of blood. In his unstable condition, not to mention the opposing force of Kongshi, Yan Budu probably couldn’t even defeat Lord Bai at the moment.
Kongshi helplessly fetched bowl after bowl of hot water and used warm water to wipe away the blood.
The linen cloth emitted faint white steam as it gradually wiped away the dark red blood stains, revealing the image of a person within the bloodstains. The blood seeped into the crevices of the fabric, then dispersed into the water, turning the clear water in the bowl a pale crimson.
The monk clenched his fingers. The warm water slid over his slender and powerful hands, falling back into the bowl with a crisp sound.
Yan Budu had a lifeless expression and spoke arrogantly. “…Venerable, there’s no need for you to bother about me. I’ll just die here on my own. You can drag the corpse back and report your completion.”
Kongshi continued to wring the blood-stained cloth as if he hadn’t heard.
While Kongshi was busy wiping away the blood again, Yan Budu propped himself up and used his strength to imprison Kongshi beneath him.
Yan Budu’s clothes had been stained with too much fresh blood earlier, so he had to take them off, revealing porcelain-white skin. His breath was scorching, turning into white vapor as it left his mouth, carrying a faint trace of blood. His long hair was stuck to his body with sweat, as if it bore some kind of curse with dark patterns.
He lightly tapped the iron bowl with his toes and covered himself with the fox fur, then draped the monk’s robe over it. The cave fell into silence, and the flickering firelight cast an orange halo that flowed and undulated along their figures.
Yan Budu separated his damp hair and deliberately propped himself up with his injured arm. The pain combined with his illness caused his whole body to tremble slightly, and blood began to seep from the wound on his severed arm. Perhaps due to his extreme weakness, Kongshi didn’t use as much force to incapacitate him as before.
“Venerable, you truly have a kind heart. An eminent monk is indeed an eminent monk.”
Yan Budu’s voice grew softer and sounded like honey mixed with blood. He traced his fingertips over Kongshi’s face, leaving several streaks of blood between his brows and eyes.
“It is fate and illness that have come to kill me. Venerable, you haven’t violated the precepts by helping me…”
Finally, he no longer made an effort to support his body but allowed himself to fall onto Kongshi’s chest. With fiery red eyes and black hair like a prison, the two of them, one on top of the other, were extremely close.
Close enough for their breaths to intertwine endlessly, with no other objects in their field of vision.
Seeing that the other’s gaze remained unchanged, Yan Budu sneered softly. He deliberately moved slightly and licked and bit the edge of Kongshi’s ear.
“So, why did Venerable help me?”
The words “help me” slipped out of his lips, each word lingering and filled with tenderness.
Days of deliberate restraint came to an end at this moment.
Yan Budu’s true nature was fully exposed. Even if it was only his state of mind, his eerie and sticky aura made people extremely uncomfortable. Tainted with the color of disease and harboring wicked thoughts as deep as the abyss, this person’s smile was both beautiful and resembled a demon living in the human world.
Kongshi moved the damp cloth skillfully, ignoring the current situation. “Please raise your arm. There’s still some blood to wipe over there.”
Yan Budu: “…”
The profound power of the Venerable shattered the lascivious atmosphere with this one sentence.
One person desired warmth under the red canopy in a romantic setting, while the other remained motionless as if wiping a lifeless object. The monk truly seemed like a stone. Not to mention any physical response, Kongshi’s face didn’t even blush.
Yan Budu immediately lost interest. He rolled to the side, laying in a lifeless “大*” character, allowing the monk to manipulate him. Kongshi cleaned up Yan Budu, applying a cold cloth to his forehead. Then, he prepared some easily digestible soft vegetable soup and fed it to Yan Budu little by little.
*Big/large/heavy.
The strong wind roared, and snowflakes danced. The chessboard lay quietly a few steps away, with the remnants of the previous game’s final moves still visible.
Yan Budu had never had any issues with himself. He slowly swallowed the soup while his gaze wandered over Kongshi’s body, and then he revealed a smile that seemed to guarantee his victory. “Kongshi, oh, Kongshi, you really are…”
He didn’t finish his sentence but continued to gaze meaningfully at the monk.
Kongshi remained calm. His profound features were immersed in light and shadow, devoid of any sharpness. He always seemed to have that gentle and carefree expression, unhurried and composed.
No joy, no sorrow.
The two remained silent for a while.
Shi Jingzhi frowned. “At this rate, Venerable Kongshi’s condition isn’t good.”
“Kongshi’s martial arts are inherently effective against Yan Budu. With Yan Budu’s injured arm and weakened spirit, he doesn’t have full confidence, so he won’t easily make a move.”
“It’s not a matter of confidence, but a matter of winning or losing.”
Shi Jingzhi paused, glanced at Yin Ci, and cautiously continued, “If Yan Budu were to attack and kill Kongshi without any tricks, he wouldn’t be considered to have won against the Venerable.”
Yin Ci showed some interest. “Go on.”
Shi Jingzhi became more energized. “He learned the Nightmare Breaking Technique just to regain control of the situation. For people like Yan Budu, losing the initiative is more unbearable than death. And to win against someone like Kongshi, killing him is useless; destruction is the true victory.”
Yin Ci smiled, somewhat cryptically. “Are you speaking from experience?”
“Does your Master seem like… cough, a dark-minded person.”
When this person felt guilty, he really enjoyed referring to himself as “Master”.
“I’m not Kongshi, and I have no Buddha in my heart. I have seen people who are even crazier than you. There’s no need to be so cautious… Didn’t I already say it? I prefer someone like you.”
As soon as these words came out, Shi Jingzhi seemed to have been caught off guard. He quickly averted his gaze, focusing intensely on Yan Budu’s smoking pipe pendant.
Yin Ci shook his head, smiling.
It turned out that Shi Jingzhi and Yan Budu truly shared a deep connection.
Under Kongshi’s care, Yan Budu weathered this ordeal. He didn’t rush to kill Kongshi but instead acted as if nothing had happened, engaging in casual conversations and playing chess together.
Yin Ci could tell that Yan Budu had changed his strategy.
For several days, they maintained a harmonious atmosphere. Yan Budu knew deep down that as long as they avoided discussions of morality and righteousness, they could always find common ground. From mathematics and music theory to astronomy and history, they never ran out of topics to discuss day after day.
Yan Budu was like an experienced hunter, patiently biding his time with his prey.
He no longer mentioned the despicable things he had done, and he balanced his actions, presenting himself as a debauched gentleman. When he was in the mood, he occasionally made flirtatious moves or teasing remarks toward Kongshi. However, all of these gestures stopped just at the point where Kongshi wouldn’t shy away.
A brush of fingertips, a sweep of hair. His words were charming but not vulgar, his touches were ambiguous but not explicit; everything was just right.
Strangely enough, unlike before, Yan Budu wasn’t deliberately putting on a show. He no longer avoided the cruel and violent aspects of his character, shedding layers of masks and freely expressing his true nature, enjoying his time with Kongshi as he pleased.
True to Yan Budu’s expectations, Kongshi remained unruffled, unperturbed by the rain and wind.
And so, over a dozen days passed, nearing a month since their confinement.
The coldest moments had already passed, and the snow outside the cave had lessened considerably. Yan Budu’s injured arm was finally approaching full recovery.
Their daily routines became regular.
In the morning, Kongshi went out to dispel the illusion and open a path, while Yan Budu took on the task of foraging and would bring back vegetables, meat, and eggs. One vegetarian and one meat-eater, yet their ways never clashed.
After finishing lunch, they played chess. A game would take several hours, and the two would engage in lively conversations, discussing a wide range of topics. The two masters were knowledgeable and talented, and the cold atmosphere of the previous days of silence was no longer present.
At sunset, the chess game would always end in a draw. Kongshi would begin reciting sutras, while Yan Budu silently practiced his internal cultivation to heal his injuries. Occasionally, when he couldn’t hold it anymore, he would vomit some blood, and Kongshi would help him wash his clothes, clean his body, and adjust his inner force.
During these moments, Yan Budu would always take advantage of the situation* until the monk furrowed his brows.
*Wipe oil/eat tofu/mopping water. Term used to describe taking advantage of others in public.
Compared to the initial confrontation filled with hostility and madness, it now seemed like a fantasy. Simply looking at these days, they resembled friends who had accumulated years of understanding, rather than mortal enemies.
Compared to the beginning, Yan Budu seemed much more relaxed, whether it was acting or genuine. Kongshi’s expression remained unchanged, as gentle as ever.
But the observing master and disciple understood that this was merely a brief period of peace after the two of them stumbled upon the ancient formation.
Once the remnants of the formation outside the mountain were resolved, severe cold and snowstorms would no longer be able to confine masters like Yan Budu and Kongshi. They would leave this narrow cave and enter an endless state of life and death—either Kongshi would die here, or Yan Budu would be captured by Kongshi and taken to the Jianchen Temple, never to see daylight again.
They couldn’t stay here forever.
…How exactly did Yan Budu plan to “destroy Kongshi”?
To deceive Kongshi through days of familiarity, to stir emotions in the monk? Or was he going to pretend to repent and then strike from behind?
Yan Budu had lived an extremely cruel and violent life, with no satisfying opponent or trusted friend. If he were to spend his final years like this, it might even be considered the best way to die. Did he truly still want to “destroy Kongshi”?
Yan Budu was a person who had always been unrestrained, without any taboos, and acted recklessly. He couldn’t be judged by ordinary standards. At this point, the master and disciple were no longer certain.
Until a change occurred.
On that day, as usual, they were playing chess when they suddenly discussed “death”.
“I’m unwilling to die like this. Kongshi, have you ever heard of the ‘Shirou’? By consuming it, one can achieve immortality and eternal youth.”
“Amitabha. Such practices are not encouraged in Buddhism.”
“I guessed as much. A sect that amuses itself with the heavy sand hoop couldn’t possibly seek immortality.”
“Has Patron found the Shirou?”
“If I had, would I still be here?”
Kongshi slowly placed a chess piece down. “Then what about after Patron achieves immortality?”
“…Why are you suddenly asking about this?”
“Patron is now superior to ordinary people, having experienced all the wealth and luxury of the human world and seeing all beings as no more than pigs and dogs. So, once Patron ascends to immortality, what kind of thoughts and way of life does Patron plan to have?”
Yan Budu’s breath hitched.
“Wealth beyond measure, infamy renowned. The masses are dull, and there’s no one by your side. If Patron becomes an immortal, it will only prolong this situation. Forgive this humble monk for failing to see the difference.”
“Immortals are different from ordinary mortals. How can there be no difference?”
“Then, will Patron abandon worldly desires and sever the seven emotions and six desires?” Kongshi unusually laughed. “Is Patron willing to do so?”
Yan Budu’s face also darkened unusually. “Who was the one who said he would save me? Kongshi, what do you mean by this?”
“Amitabha. This humble monk is curious.”
“You’re curious too? That’s rare.”
“The remnants of the formation outside the mountain have been resolved by about eighty to ninety percent, and the mountain path has appeared. Perhaps by tomorrow, we won’t have the chance to converse anymore. This humble monk just wants to seek clarity while we still have this opportunity, that’s all.”
The final game?
So this was their final game.
A month of ease and tranquility ultimately turned out to be a fleeting illusion. Just like the ever-changing chessboard every day, the outcome never changed.
Yan Budu’s expression slightly changed, shifting from melancholy to a faint arrogance, which then transformed into pity tinged with a sense of charity.
In the span of a stick of incense, he slowly tightened his grip on the chess piece and spoke casually, “Once I become an immortal, the first thing I’ll do is take my time. I’ll do whatever I want, no longer worrying about all those nonsense matters and dealing with two-faced people who speak with forked tongues.”
“After all, mortals in this world are just a few masks and a few types of reactions. I’ve grown tired of killing people, so why not catch an interesting immortal to pass the time with me? The heavenly realm is so vast; there must be someone I can’t see through, right? Then I’ll truly be carefree…”
…Just like this very moment.
Yan Budu slightly widened his eyes.
Kongshi saw him stop midway through his words, unable to continue, and simply reminded him in a gentle voice. “Patron, it’s your turn to make a move.”
Click.
The stone chess piece slipped from Yan Budu’s trembling fingers and fell to the ground.
In the next moment, Yan Budu spewed out a mouthful of black blood. He collapsed to the ground, curling up into a ball.
That chess piece soaked in the dark pool of blood was three shades darker than the rest.
Yan Budu’s alluring face contorted completely. Through his disheveled hair, he stared at Kongshi with eyes filled with disbelief and bitter resentment. He convulsed in pain, and filthy blood kept flowing from the corners of his mouth.
Kongshi stood up. “Patron, let me help you to another place—”
“Get lost!” Yan Budu wailed, his nails digging tightly into the ground, mangling his flesh. “Damn you, do you know…”
Before he could squeeze out a few more words, more black blood sprayed out.
Yan Budu trembled violently, almost unable to speak properly. Judging from this condition, it was even more severe than all the previous episodes combined.
The days of their mutual understanding and peace shattered into pieces. Yan Budu showed a panicked expression for the first time. His negative emotions seemed out of control—fear, sorrow, and hatred all mingled together, splattering in every direction along with the black blood.
“How could I… How could I have this intention only now…”
Unlike the previous episodes, countless small, bluish-black blood vessels appeared all over Yan Budu’s body. They intertwined with each other, delicate and intricate, against his fair skin, resembling the fine cracks of porcelain.
Beautiful yet terrifying.
Yan Budu was still playing chess normally a moment ago, but now he was burning with a high fever, and his whole head emitted heat in the freezing cold. His condition was bizarre, as if possessed by a demon, yet there were no signs of his inner force being in chaos. Just as Kongshi was helping him up, Yan Budu let out a miserable scream. His inner force exploded recklessly, forcing Kongshi to retreat.
Kongshi finally showed a different expression. “Patron, what is…?”
“Congratulations, monk, congratulations.” Yan Budu’s tone turned eerie and sarcastic. “No matter what happens this time, you’ll have to carry a dead person out of this mountain. How convenient, cough, it is.”
“Last day, isn’t it…? Tomorrow, you and I will be opponents again, so you won’t have to… you won’t have to lay a finger on me.”
Yan Budu’s eyes were bloodshot, and his red pupils resembled flames from the depths of hell, revealing a hint of desperate madness.
“I should have… should have killed you long ago… but it’s a pity that someone like you won’t accompany me… accompany me to hell…”
After uttering those fierce words, he seemed to have emptied himself. Then, Yan Budu despairingly clawed at the ground with his nails. His voice was so low that it couldn’t be heard. Kongshi approached and barely made out a few muffled “why” and “on what grounds”.
Kongshi let out a soft sigh.
The monk pried open Yan Budu’s hands and carefully bandaged his wounds. He wiped away the blood from his mouth and nose with gentle movements as always.
But in the end, disregarding Yan Budu’s struggles, Kongshi forcibly took his pulse.
“A few days ago, this humble monk saw some good medicine. If it can be collected in time, it should be able to keep you alive.”
“Pointless…”
“Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow. A patient is a patient, and an opponent is an opponent.” Kongshi lowered his gaze. His voice was clear and unobstructed. “It would be best if you didn’t move recklessly and wait for my return.”
In the midst of intense pain, Yan Budu suddenly revealed a smile stained with blood.
“Venerable is so attentive—could it be that you’ve taken a liking to me… If you don’t mind these threads of blood, I can play with you, Venerable… Even in death, it’s still a romantic affair*…”
*To die under the peony. It’s a saying historically used by men to express their admiration for women (like it’s romantic to die under such a beauty (the peony)).
“If a few words from Patron were enough for this humble monk to be drawn to the mortal world, then this humble monk would have been troubled long ago.”
After speaking, the tattered monk’s robe fluttered through the air. Kongshi carried the stone sword on his back, standing tall and resolute, stepping into the wind and snow without hesitation.
Yan Budu leaned against the stone wall, watching Kongshi’s figure with a gaze too complex to put into words.
Before long, his strength finally gave out, and he fell into a deep slumber.
