The True Lord has arrived

Chapter 38 A Single Thought in the Human Heart (New book, please read!)
Mountain King?

Zhou Yan was stunned, sensing the third image gradually taking shape on the jade book—and the breakthrough method, formation, and aura emanating from the vengeful souls that Wang Chun had painstakingly obtained from the Qingming Pavilion Master had all become part of this image.

Zhou Yan suddenly realized.

The tiger itself is not a mountain spirit. The term "mountain spirit" should be more of a symbolic concept, representing something that happens in a single moment, the right to command ghosts, the justice of revenge, and the moment when killing and karma converge.

Together they form the deity-like state of [Mountain Lord].

It was something Wang Chun longed for but could not obtain.

On the jade scroll, streams of light are converging.

Zhou Yan exhaled a breath of stale air and refocused his attention.

He first picked up the Buddhist lamp that had just been flung away.

This thing works remarkably well; while illuminating the netherworld, it also seems to have a certain degree of restraint over resentment.

He had just thrown it out and was casting a spell with lamp oil.

A significant amount of oil had spilled from the lamp, leaving less than a third of it. Zhou Yan, who had fought with unrestrained passion and exhilaration, now felt the pain of losing his life.

Aside from what Uncle Shen gave him, this was the only treasure he possessed that could be considered to have extraordinary power. Moreover, although Shen Cangming didn't specify, this treasure, imbued with the essence of chanting in a century-old temple, was fundamentally different from things like sword ointment made from materials.

The former is unique, while sword ointment, pills, and the like can be replenished.

Whether it's history or the passage of time, use it sparingly, and use it sparingly.

I wonder if just pouring in some lamp oil would work.

Suddenly, Zhou Yan felt that the chilling aura around him seemed to have intensified.

Shen Cangming stood beside Zhou Yan, his left hand slightly raised, holding Zhou Yan's front. The big black horse's hooves wobbled uneasily, but it still obediently stood guard beside Zhou Yan. The barefoot little girl stood blankly beside them.

Big Black shook its body, for the sake of the fruit.

They actually took the initiative to cooperate with Shen Cangming, forming a simple triangular military formation to protect Zhou Yan and the child within them.

Shen Cangming suddenly said, "It seems that things have changed."

The chill in the air was gradually intensifying.

Upon hearing Shen Cangming's words, Zhou Yan looked up and saw gusts of eerie wind howling inside the cave. He also saw the vengeful spirits transforming in a terrifying way.

This place is inherently filled with yin energy and resentment.

Even after Wang Chun was wiped out, these spirits were still not satisfied with their resentment and hatred. In fact, the act of killing Wang Chun stimulated their own resentment and hatred, causing them to tend towards a more extreme direction.

Shen Cangming pressed his fingers against the hilt of the sword, his bloodthirsty aura subtly erupting.

He actually felt that Zhou Yan's decision to throw Wang Chun's head over and let these souls take revenge was somewhat ill-considered, which would cause these souls to transform into vengeful ghosts.

There is a possibility that it could harm all sides.

And at that moment, a sigh escaped.

Without any regard for the precious lamp oil, the oil lamp that had just been extinguished was lit again, its faint golden light slowly spreading out and suppressing the yin energy.

Zhou Yan held up the oil lamp with one hand, his expression calm.

Gazing upon those souls possessed by malevolent energy.

The golden light, which would normally be somewhat dim, was now incredibly clear.

Even if it's filthy, even if it's a broken Buddhist lamp, it's still far more upright than pure hatred or twisted malevolence.

As the Buddhist lamp clashed with the resentment, the Buddhist spirit within it was activated, and a faint chanting sound arose, stopping the transformation of the malevolent spirit into a vengeful ghost in the midst of resentment.

Eighty ghosts stared at Zhou Yan.

Some of them had bloodshot eyes and fangs in their mouths; some had tattered clothes; some had their bellies ripped open and their clothes stained with blood, looking gruesome and pitiful.

The boy was covered in blood, his clothes on his left arm were torn, and his skin looked as if it had been splashed with boiling water. He had a knife in his right hand and a lantern in his left, letting the lanterns scatter. The knife in the boy's hand pressed against the ground, emitting a low and murderous whistle.

Zhou Yan looked directly at them and said:

“Every injustice has its owner, and every debt has its owner.”

"Wang Chun is dead, and we have avenged ourselves. So, let's part ways here."

As Zhou Yan held the Buddhist lamp high, the vengeful spirits, having already torn Wang Chun apart and devoured him, lost their core essence. Under the warm and gentle light of the Buddhist lamp in Zhou Yan's hand, their resentment began to dissipate like ripples on water.

This avoids an imbalance of hostility, preventing them from fighting each other and devouring one another.

How can I describe this feeling?

It's like walking a long, dark road, losing your way, surrounded by the roars and howls of wild beasts, feeling the pain of being cut by knives—that feeling of being lost, bewildered, fearful, and lonely.

And now, someone has lit a lamp for them.

Even if this lamp isn't very bright, it's enough.

A single light illuminates the way home.

He returned from the netherworld to the mortal realm.

Zhou Yan carried the lantern and walked slowly forward, his resentment dissipating.

Inside Misty Peak, there is often mist from Zhongnan Mountain, a hazy, ethereal mist that spreads and lingers. Now, as this resentful aura dissipates, it has lowered the temperature near the cave on Misty Peak.

Then the mist transformed into a hazy rain, and raindrops fell, hitting the trees and grass, bursting into tiny splashes. The gentle pattering sound gradually calmed the pent-up resentment. After personally slaying their enemies, guided by the subtle divine energy within the Buddha lamp, the resentment and malevolence slowly dissipated, and the people returned to their former forms, weeping and grieving.

It's unclear whether what's falling is rain or their tears.

Even with revenge, the pain and sorrow remain intense.

Because, in any case, the calamity has already occurred.

Even if the villain is dead, even if the enemy has been killed and the murderous aura washed away, he is still dead and can never return to the world or embrace his loved ones. Thinking of this, one can't help but cry.

The Buddha lamp emitted a warm light.

The young man, with a tacit understanding, held up the Buddhist lamp in his left hand, pressed his palm against the knife, and tapped the scabbard with his fingers, making a crisp sound. He whispered, "All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, dew, and lightning."

"This is how it should be viewed."

Zhou Yan didn't understand Buddhist scriptures, but he had seen some famous quotes in modern times.

He thought for a moment, then with a flick of his wrist, spilled all the precious oil from the Buddhist lamp.

The oil from the Buddhist lamp glowed with tiny golden flames, somewhat like the river lanterns released on a long river during festivals, twinkling like stars, guiding people home. The young man, his hand on his sword, blood still dripping from his arm from the recent battle, whispered:

"Go well, go on your way."

"May you return to the world and never have to suffer like this again."

Bathed in golden light, these pitiful, ordinary people bowed to Zhou Yan. They were still sorrowful and regretful, yet also grateful, and said:

"Thank you, my lord."

Then these souls dispersed in the faint golden light, the Buddhist lamp was activated by its hidden Buddhist energy, and all the lamp oil was exhausted, finally dimming.

But when the Buddha lamp was dim.

Changes have occurred.

There were faint specks of light in the air, like falling dust, like the first rays of dawn piercing through the clouds at sunrise, flowing through the rain and landing on the dim oil lamp in Zhou Yan's hand.

As if the gratitude of all living beings, the golden light transformed into golden lamp oil.

The dim Buddhist lamp, inch by inch, lit up again.

The previous foul air completely dissipated, replaced by an absolutely bright and warm aura, perhaps good or evil, perhaps gratitude. Zhou Yan was stunned, then smiled freely, hung the Buddha lamp back on his waist, and turned to look in that direction.

Among the many living souls, there was one whose malevolent aura, after dissipating, did not dissipate but instead maintained a human body. He was a young scholar who looked honest and reliable. He said, "Um, my name is Yin Zichuan. I have met this young hero and this great hero."

He greeted everyone very politely.

Big Black snorted in dissatisfaction.

So Yin Zichuan quickly added another bow:
"Ah, and there's also this Master Ma!"

"No, there's already a great hero, but... a mid-level hero!"

"Hero of the Horse".

Big Black nodded in satisfaction, thinking that this guy was more sensible than the kid next to him.

Shen Cangming gazed at the soul devoid of resentment, then looked away and turned to Zhou Yan, saying, "Look at her." Zhou Yan followed Shen Cangming's gaze and looked at the little girl.

His eyes saw more.

The child looked at him with clear, questioning eyes.

Zhou Yan's expression changed; he was moved.

"This child..."

This is a pitiful child, with many wounds on her arms, clutching a faded rag doll, looking very nervous. Yet, in Zhou Yan's eyes, he could see the deathly stillness emanating from her.

She wasn't actually arrested.

She is dead.

Moreover, it was imprisoned within the physical body.

Zhou Yan looked slightly pity and reached out to pat the little girl's head. As his hand landed, the child instinctively shrank her neck, then noticed that Zhou Yan hadn't hit or kicked her.

She slowly relaxed and then stood on her tiptoes.

She carefully rubbed her hair against Zhou Yan's palm.

A fawning, pitiful smile appeared on his face.

Yin Zichuan floated to Zhou Yan's side and said, "Wang Chun used a method to seal this child's soul inside his body, keeping him in a state of neither life nor death, all to store the soul. Alas..."

He couldn't continue speaking, and Zhou Yan could sense the child's confusion.

However, his martial arts skills and methods were insufficient to deliver the souls in such circumstances.

Just then, Zhou Yan felt the jade book resonate slightly.

With a flick of his middle and index fingers, a jade talisman appeared between Zhou Yan's fingers.

【Mountain Lord】Jade Talisman.

The sealing is complete!

(End of this chapter)