Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

Two days later, outside Gao Laozhuang.

Fan Yuan did not enter the manor. Instead, he disguised himself as a traveling merchant and sat in a teahouse outside the manor for half an hour.

Inside the teahouse, several farmers taking a break were excitedly discussing the strange events of the past few days.

"...That monk was really skilled; he subdued the pig demon in no time, along with his disciple who had a mouth like a thunder god!"

"That's right. I heard that the pig demon eventually had to call that monk 'Master' and carried his load westward."

"Grandpa Gao really spared no expense this time, hosting a three-day feast..."

Upon hearing this, Fan Yuan put down a few copper coins, lowered his straw hat, and quietly left.

Pigsy has already embarked on his journey with Tang Sanzang, and the story of Gao Village has come to a complete end.

"The journey to the west is fraught with peril, but also with opportunity."

Fan Yuan gazed at the vast mountains to the west, pondering in his heart.

Now that he's on this path, he can't easily break it off, but he absolutely can't get too close. Tang Sanzang and his disciples are the focus of Heaven's attention, and if he's not careful, he'll be dragged into the vortex of cause and effect and die without a burial place.

He traveled westward, hiding by day and going out at night, avoiding towns and cities as much as possible, and taking only mountain trails.

After traveling for several days, the terrain gradually rose ahead, and a majestic and beautiful mountain came into view.

Unlike ordinary demonic mountains, which are desolate and treacherous with a pervasive demonic aura, that mountain exuded an indescribable pure and ethereal energy.

South of the mountain are green pines and cypresses, and north of the mountain are green willows and red peaches, with auspicious clouds swirling around and a thousand streams of good fortune.

Fan Yuan paused, his expression instantly becoming extremely solemn.

He remembered this place.

Futu Mountain.

In the original Journey to the West, a very mysterious and powerful master, Zen Master Wuchao, lived here.

This person's origins are shrouded in mystery, and his magical powers are unfathomable. He not only knows Zhu Bajie, but also knows the background of Sun Wukong, and even taught Tang Sanzang the supreme Heart Sutra.

"This is a true big shot, possibly even a top figure left over from the primordial era."

Alarm bells rang loudly in Fan Yuan's mind.

He dared to scheme against Zhu Bajie because Zhu Bajie had been demoted to the mortal realm and had obvious character flaws. However, when facing someone of the caliber of Zen Master Wuchao, any little thought could bring about his annihilation.

He dared not venture too far, and only dared to hide in a secluded crevice a few miles from the foot of Mount Futu.

Looking from afar, one can vaguely see a huge nest of firewood on the top of the Chinese cypress tree on the south side of the mountain, just like a bird's nest.

"That is the monastery of Zen Master Wuchao."

Fan Yuan held his breath, not daring to even extend his divine sense in the slightest, for fear of disturbing that powerful being.

Just as he was hesitating whether to take a detour immediately, a faint sound drifted over on the mountain breeze.

That wasn't the sound of speaking, but the sound of chanting.

The sound was not loud, yet it seemed to resonate directly in the depths of one's soul, devoid of any worldly concerns, yet grand and solemn, like the resounding toll of a great bell, deafening and awe-inspiring.

"When Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva was practicing the profound Prajnaparamita..."

Fan Yuan was startled.

As the chanting entered his ears, the wisps of dark, malevolent energy that had accumulated in his mind due to the repeated deaths of his clones began to melt away rapidly, like snow meeting the blazing sun.

Since obtaining the [Primordial Mirror of All Forms], Fan Yuan has gained enormous benefits from the feedback of his clones. However, with each clone's death, no matter how low the feedback rate, the despair and pain before death would ultimately leave a barely perceptible shadow on the soul of the original body.

These shadows usually remain hidden, but if they accumulate, they will become inner demons, hindering one's future path.

At this moment, the Zen chanting emanating from Mount Futu has the miraculous effect of cleansing the soul and purifying the evil energy!

"This is... an opportunity!"

Fan Yuan was overjoyed, but his body remained completely still.

Unlike those greedy seekers, he did not rush up the mountain to kneel and beg to become a disciple, or try to get closer to hear the scriptures more clearly.

He knew that it was a preordained cause and effect for Zen Master Wuchao to pass on the scriptures to Tang Sanzang. As an anomaly of unknown origin, if he rashly approached him, the most likely outcome would not be to receive the true teachings, but to be slapped to death.

"The way of nature is to go too far, as this is as bad as not going far enough."

Fan Yuanqiang suppressed his greed and sat cross-legged in a crevice at the foot of the mountain, his mind clear and focused.

He didn't deliberately memorize the contents of the scripture, nor did he try to understand its Buddhist principles. He simply used the lingering sound of Zen music carried by the wind to cleanse his soul.

The sun rises and the moon sets.

The chanting was intermittent, sometimes the Heart Sutra, sometimes like some unknown ancient ballad.

Fan Yuan sat there for three days and three nights.

During those three days, he seemed to forget the hardships of cultivation and the dangers of the journey to the West, and he was immersed in an unprecedented tranquility.

Within the sea of ​​consciousness, the originally somewhat chaotic spiritual power became increasingly pure and clear under the stimulation of the Zen sound, and the deep-seated malevolence and death energy were completely eradicated.

Even the wisp of Weak Water True Meaning suspended in the sea of ​​consciousness, under the cleansing of this peaceful atmosphere, its originally sinister and corrosive sharpness was somewhat restrained, becoming more rounded and introverted, as if it had transformed from stagnant water into living water.

On the morning of the third day, as the first rays of sunlight fell on the top of Mount Futu, the chanting abruptly stopped.

Fan Yuan slowly opened his eyes.

His eyes were clear and bright, like those of a newborn baby, without any trace of the gloom and anxiety that had preceded him.

Although his cultivation level had not improved, he felt that his thoughts were clearer than ever before, and he had more and more control over his body and spiritual power.

This kind of mental elevation is more precious than obtaining a magical artifact or learning a spell.

"Thank you, Zen Master."

Fan Yuan bowed respectfully in the direction of Mount Futu.

He knew that with Zen Master Wuchao's magical powers, he must have already discovered him, this little ant eavesdropping at the foot of the mountain.

The Zen master neither drove him away nor punished him; this in itself was an act of compassion and tacit approval.

After finishing his prayers, Fan Yuan got up and left without any hesitation.

After leaving the territory of Mount Futu for a hundred miles, Fan Yuan slowed down his pace again.

He looked back, but the sacred mountain had already disappeared into the clouds.

Fan Yuan clenched his fist, savoring the exhilarating feeling of unity between body and mind.

"Next up is Yellow Wind Ridge."

Thinking of the rat spirit that stole oil in the original story, and the Samadhi Divine Wind that could blow away the three souls and seven spirits, a hint of expectation and a hint of solemnity flashed in Fan Yuan's eyes.

That wind was a terrifying supernatural power that could even blind Sun Wukong's fiery eyes.

If he could make his clone die in that divine wind, even if he only managed to capture a sliver of the wind's power, combined with his understanding of the Weak Water True Meaning, the interplay of wind and water would surely lead to another leap in his strength.

"However, that Yellow Wind Monster is quite powerful and has many lesser demons under his command. If we want to snatch chestnuts from the fire, we will need to plan carefully."

Fan Yuan lowered his straw hat, and his figure gradually disappeared at the end of the ancient road.