As soon as he finished speaking, footsteps could be heard. It was Chen Weichen carrying many Buddhist scriptures.

Knowing that Chen Weichen's situation was worrisome and required careful attention, Ye Jiuya reached out his hand.

Chen Weichen understood and grinned, handing over the heavy scriptures to Ye Jiuya to carry.

"Xing Qiu had a falling out with Master Kong Ming and has already left the mountain," he said to Ye Jiuya. "Who do you think lured him here? But nothing happened."

After much thought, the only person in the immortal realm who would scheme like this and was likely in the capital was Chi Juntian. But if it was her, things wouldn't be as simple as just luring Xing Qiu up the mountain. Even they would be...

This person was born into Tianyan and could predict the future. If she set a trap, it would be flawless.

He exchanged a glance with Ye Jiuya, knowing he had the same guess.

Chen Weichen narrowed his eyes. "She's stringing us along. We can only take things one step at a time for now."

Ye Jiuya walked down the mountain beside him. "What are you planning to do?"

Chen Weichen looked a bit pale and sighed. "Also taking it one step at a time."

Ye Jiuya looked at his profile, feeling that he must be tired now, yet there was a stubborn persistence within him.

Coming down the mountain, he had learned a lot about Chen Weichen. If this person was a mortal, he could live a life of ease and comfort. Even after entering the immortal path, with his current situation and Ye Jiuya by his side to protect him, he wouldn't have to suffer the torment of the three forces clashing within him.

Chen Weichen noticed his gaze and also looked over. They actually stared at each other for quite a while.

A bird suddenly flew out of the forest with a flapping of wings, interrupting the silence.

A playful smile appeared in Chen Weichen's eyes. "Lord Ye, you've been staring for so long. Could it be that you've fallen for me?"

Ye Jiuya had already gotten used to how this person addressed him differently every few days.

With his personality, faced with such ambiguous jokes, he ultimately had no way to banter back. He only said mildly, "What do you want?"

Unlike the Demon Emperor, who always lacked focus and missed the point, Chen Weichen was a more direct conversationalist, especially when faced with Ye Jiuya's succinctness.

He said, "We've been together for half a year, yet you still treat me as a mortal."

Ye Jiuya looked at him, his expression shifting slightly.

"When we first met, you said the immortal path was arduous and bitter," Chen Weichen said. "Since I've come, I also want to seek my own way. If you consider me a fellow cultivator, you wouldn't have asked that earlier."

Ye Jiuya was quiet for a moment before saying, "I was wrong."

After a pause, he added, "Your situation is perilous. You mustn't cultivate alone."

Chen Weichen smiled as if he had gotten his way. "Then I'll have to trouble Swordmaster Ye to protect me from now on."

Ye Jiuya's expression remained mild as always. Chen Weichen swallowed back the words "Brother Ye, were you feeling distressed for me just now?" and caught up to walk beside him.

The Buddhist sect opened the door of great compassion. The mountain path occasionally curved with the terrain but was not rugged. After descending countless neat stone steps, it was as if they passed through an invisible barrier at the foot of the mountain. The tranquil scenery suddenly receded and the majestic city walls of the Southern Capital appeared before their eyes.

They continued searching the city for places with unusual energy, but after a day, other than learning the location of the State Preceptor's manor, they came up empty-handed.

Chen Weichen was worried about Wen Hui and couldn't help feeling a bit anxious. A few days ago, he had found some of Wen Hui's hair in the Yue City residence. After another three days, on the day when yin energy was at its peak, Xie Lang lit the soul-linking copper lamp and burned the hair on it. Fortunately, although the flame was unsteady, it remained abundant and bright, indicating that the owner of the hair was unharmed.

The Daoist priest also dug out a cat hair mixed in with the rest from his horsetail whisk and burned it the same way—it burned brightly, showing that the plump lady hadn't wasted away much after leaving Xie Lang.

Xie Lang ground his teeth.

Since they couldn't find any leads, Chen Weichen stopped going out. For half a month, he read Buddhist scriptures in the study every day. Although he didn't have an eminent monk to teach and guide him, he seemed to have innate intelligence and gradually made his way through.

Seeing him immersed in the Buddhist scriptures, Xiao Dao not only went to temples in the capital to request prayer beads to wrap around his wrist, but even the clothes she prepared for him became much more plain.

At this time, sandalwood incense was burning in the study and a white candle was lit on the desk. The young master Chen wore light blue robes, his wrist loosely wrapped with apricot-colored prayer beads, looking quite authentic.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to become much more ascetic—as he read, he lost his backbone and leaned against Ye Jiuya beside him.

Ye Jiuya glanced at the page and immediately saw the words "Prince Ming," "Consort Princess," and "dual cultivation of emptiness and bliss."

The young master Chen had a guilty conscience. He coughed and, in a poor attempt to cover it up, closed the book and picked up a proper copy of the Avatamsaka Sutra to read.

Ye Jiuya's cultivation was currently at the peak of the second realm. His energy had long been complete, and opportunities to break through were hard to come by. Once he had free time, he had nothing to do. Accompanying Chen Weichen in reading scriptures every day, he gradually got used to such flowing days.

After half a morning, Chen Weichen grew tired of reading scriptures and found a collection of witty Buddhist verses to pass the time.

Just then, a spring breeze entered through the window, flipping the pages. They rapidly changed before finally settling on one poem, which read:

"All joyful unions are impermanent and hard to maintain for long. In this life full of fear, our lives are as fragile as the morning dew."

His slightly lowered eyelashes trembled. He held up the book and stared at it for a long time, his gaze lingering on the word "impermanence."

"Impermanence," he heard himself murmur.

Looking up, he saw the flowing clouds passing the horizon outside the window, covering the sunlight. The shadows were like a physical thing, passing through the window lattice and falling on his face, sometimes sticky, sometimes drifting. When the clouds dispersed, the sunlight came in again, scorching. The endless cycle made a sense of bewilderment rise in his heart at being toyed with by time.

He turned his head to look at Ye Jiuya. The shadows cast by the sunlight on his eyes had not yet dissipated, blurring the man's features. The room suddenly darkened. He reached out to touch, grasping cool, soft hair that was as smooth as flowing water. He was dazed for a moment.

He heard someone reciting a sutra: "All conditioned phenomena are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow, like dew or a flash of lightning; thus we shall perceive them."

He turned his head and saw that the pages of a copy of the Diamond Sutra on the desk were flipping with a rustling sound.

Another voice spoke up: "Ninety ksanas make up one thought-moment. Within one ksana of a thought-moment, there are nine hundred births and deaths." It was from the Sutra of the Humane Kings.

The golden light was dazzling, and the sound of flipping pages in the study rose loudly. Before his eyes, pages flew everywhere, and the aged ink fragrance mingled with sandalwood, penetrating his chest. He became the embodiment of these two converging scents, sinking into a daze.

Countless voices chanted, a cacophony denser than the chirping of cicadas, gradually merging into a deafening roar: "All things in this world, the mountains, rivers, earth, and all conditioned phenomena, are impermanent, constantly changing, and will ultimately transform, all without exception."

He struggled to break free, but it was like the futile struggle of drowning, with no support or escape.

The echoes lingered, one voice not yet subdued before another arose.

"Coming from impermanence, departing into impermanence."

After a while, there was singing, like the chants at a funeral procession:

"The heavens above are vast, the earth below is boundless. The dead return to the netherworld, the living to the mortal realm. The living have their homes, the dead have their resting places."

Finally, it culminated in a sharp rebuke:

"Evil obstructions, swiftly depart!"

In his confusion, he grasped someone's hand, refusing to let go. He struggled to awaken amidst the turbulence, but to no avail. Exhausted, a thread of clarity dawned in his mind, and he said, "Since the beginning of chaos, there has been impermanence. Brother Heavenly Dao, we share the same origin, so how can you not understand the principle of the alternation of prosperity and decline, the endless cycle of rise and fall? Why must you always be at odds with me?"

He sighed and smiled, "The mortals under your jurisdiction are often insatiably greedy. But I am different. Even if there are myriad impermanences, I only want that one."

The voice remained silent for a long time.

In his dazed amusement, he thought this being didn't seem to be a witty one.

Then, everything went dark, and he fell into a deep sleep.

In a stone chamber in the capital.

Wen Hui, bound by iron chains, lay on a stone platform.

He had a chaotic dream and spat out a mouthful of blood. Opening his eyes, he saw a white-haired woman in gray robes watching him, her eyes like bottomless ancient wells.

He tried to distance himself from her, glaring fiercely, "Wicked crone! What do you want to do now?"