Invasion Myth: Starting with the Schoolteacher

Chapter 6 Dream

"What good is it if one is the official in charge of a county, and devotes himself to governing the region with all his heart and soul?"

"A single wrong word can lead to the destruction of one's family and death."

"Reading can't save the world."

There just happened to be one vengeful spirit missing, so he would make up for it with the scholar's soul later; he never wasted anything.

He relaxed his mind and formed a lotus image, his spiritual power fluctuating slightly in the room, but after a moment of careful sensing, he found nothing.

Moonlight streamed into the room, but the chill and loneliness could not extinguish the flame ignited by chance.

Zhu Wuyong looked at Xu Xuan, who was still asleep.

To cultivate oneself to such a level in life naturally requires many extraordinary encounters.

When he was young, he accidentally entered a mural of a celestial maiden in an abandoned temple outside the capital, and only managed to escape after several twists and turns.

Later, out of nostalgia for this past and longing for the Peony Fairy, he created this method of spiritual dream entry.

"I never expected to use this technique on you."

It's not that I can't extract souls, but the memories obtained from extracting souls are incomplete and fragmented, and there's also the risk of contaminating the soul.

But entering a dream is different; in a dream, you can see complete past memories.

He took out a short black incense stick, lit it, and stuck it in the air. The wisps of smoke slowly drifted down onto Xu Xuan on the bed.

Then, a glimmer of light from between the eyebrows fell into the smoke.

"Let me see if you've recently acquired anything you shouldn't have."

A misty fog, a narrow path.

Zhu Wuyong walked on it and began to draw out his memories, and the thick fog began to churn and boil.

After walking several dozen steps, the view suddenly opened up and they arrived at a painted boat.

"Young Master Xu, this poem truly speaks to my heart~~~"

At this moment, Xu Xuan was reciting poems and composing verses amidst the flattery of his maids, like a peacock spreading its tail feathers.

In the distance, a scholar dressed in silver and adorned with silver ornaments was throwing lewd poems with a jade pendant.

Zhu Wuyong scoffed, saying the poem was overly contrived and the painted boat was rather vulgar.

Back in the day, his dashing demeanor and the grandeur of the Yanlou brothel in the capital were far beyond what this young scholar could compare to.

Then they saw Xu Xuan stagger out of the painted boat, drunk, pick up a pornographic picture, open it, and take it away as if he had found a treasure.

They felt it was even more pathetic that this scholar still had his virginity intact; it was truly outrageous.

After that, it's just teaching classes, looking at pictures, teaching classes, looking at pictures.

Upon arriving at this point, Zhu Wuyong sensed something was amiss; there was something wrong with the painting!

Could this be the opportune moment?

The image began to blur and become abstract, and finally Xu Xuan, sitting at his desk, appeared to be crazed as he grabbed a carving knife and slashed his wrist.

Blood gushed out like a spring, splattering on the ground, and Xu Xiucai collapsed into a pool of blood, dying completely.

this! ! !
Zhu Wuyong was greatly alarmed.

So what is Xu Xuan now?
His mind was filled with a violent warning: the short black incense stick outside had begun to burst into flames, and the smoke, like thick fog, began to envelop the entire bedroom.

Just as Zhu Wuyong was about to exit the dream, it was too late.

The erotic pictures on the table suddenly rose to life, and the sixteen pictures spliced ​​together began to rotate.

Countless lines recombine, and he sees the rising and setting of the sun and moon, and sees clear water flowing around endless lapis lazuli land, with six billion seven-jeweled lotuses in the water, and mani water flowing into them to expound the wonderful Dharma. There are seven rows of trees on the land, with seven-jeweled flowers and leaves, and five hundred billion jeweled towers, in which countless gods play music, and there are musical instruments that hang in the void and sound without being struck.

Furthermore, they saw Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, eighty trillion nayuta yojanas tall, with a ushnisha on his head, a halo around his neck, and a standing Buddha in his crown. Eighty-four thousand kinds of light flowed from the hair between his eyebrows, and he constantly guided sentient beings with his precious hands.

Zhu Wuyong was completely stunned, and his spiritual avatar trembled as he spoke.

"The Sixteen Contemplations of Sun and Water, a reincarnation of a high-ranking Pure Land Buddhist monk?"

"No, this is..." The fifteen images continued to rotate.

The sun sets in the west, rivers freeze, trees shed leaves, crystal loses its color, magnificent buildings collapse, and even Bodhisattvas shed tears.

Finally, it transformed into 84,000 white lotus petals that stretched across the void, upon which sat an unparalleled deity in the lotus posture, but without a face.

Xu Xuan himself sat cross-legged in front of the white lotus, his eyes gleaming with white light as he looked down at the figure below.

The mere sight of him was an unbearable burden for Zhu Wuyong, causing his spirituality to collapse.

what! ! ! ! !
The original body standing at the head of Xu Xuan's bed opened its eyes in horror and immediately sensed that its soul had suffered irreparable damage.

Bleeding from all seven orifices, his heart began to beat wildly after a long absence, and immense fear emanated from the depths of his soul.

A far greater terror than the one that struck General Zuo thirty years ago when he witnessed his towering sword light descended.

Opportunity?

It turns out I was the one who brought good fortune!
The scholar on the bed suddenly opened his eyes, which still emitted a faint white light.

He slowly stood up, gently raised his hand, and extended a flawless, jade-colored finger.

The ethereal sound echoed in the bedroom, and Zhu Wuyong suddenly felt as if his soul had left his body and he was in a state of otherworldly existence.

Knowing something was wrong, a distinct feeling of impending death and annihilation welled up in my mind.

Because he also knew this move, but Zhu Wuyong swore that even the leader of the sect could not surpass this scholar in this move.

He tried his best to form hand seals and use a substitution technique to avoid the finger strike, but his usual magical power, which was like that of his hands and feet, did not respond at all.

The surrounding air suddenly became extremely heavy, as if it were collapsing.

It felt as if there was a giant vortex above my fingers, emanating an endless attraction.

Zhu Wuyong's body was already involuntarily moving towards the vortex, as if welcoming that finger.

"Do not!!!"

The finger finally touched the forehead without any hindrance.

In an instant, the remnants of the White Lotus, who had been hiding for decades, gave up resistance and evasion, their minds opening up like wanderers eager to return home.

Xu Xuanbao spoke solemnly, his voice ethereal yet filled with profound love:

"My mother has no life, my hometown is empty!"

Something chilling happened: Zhu Wuyong's burned face actually showed a peaceful and joyful smile, and he whispered:
"My mother has no life, my hometown is empty!"

With each recitation, immense spiritual power and the vital energy of his body converged at his brow, flowing into Xu Xuan's index and middle fingers.

Once the body loses these, the skin begins to dry out rapidly, the muscles atrophy, and the bones turn to powder.

"The Unborn Mother, the Vast Homeland..."

Zhu Wuyong chanted the incantation peacefully and joyfully, his voice growing softer and softer until he finally turned into ashes.

The doors and windows that had been opened were closed again. Xu Xuan, unaware of what he had done, returned to bed and continued to sleep. The absorbed divine soul and blood energy began to naturally transform his foundation.

It seems that no trace was left.

No, there is.

Xu Xuan had another dream.

In Menglongtan, Jiangxi, I was traveling with Zhu Xiaolian in the capital. We happened to visit a Buddhist temple, with its halls and meditation rooms, and inside the hall was a statue of Zhigong.

Both murals are exquisitely painted, with lifelike figures. The east mural depicts a celestial maiden scattering flowers, within which a young girl with her hair in a bun smiles, holding a flower, her cherry lips seemingly about to move, her eyes about to sparkle.
Staring intently for a long time, I was unconsciously captivated and lost in thought. Suddenly, my body floated up as if riding on clouds and mist, and I was already on the wall.

The Bodhisattva enlightens the ignorant, and a thousand illusions arise. All are driven by the human mind. The old woman, anxious for enlightenment, regrets not hearing his words and attaining great understanding, and instead let her hair down and went into the mountains.

Why did I dream about the mural?

When Xu Xuan woke up, he felt that his physical condition was better than ever before.

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(End of this chapter)