I Am Loaded with Passive Skills

Chapter 3625: Chapter 1767: Crossing the Western Deserts on a Truth-seeking Journey, Lifting the Buddha Sword on This Path Without a Gate

Western Region, Great Desert.

Across the vast expanse of the desert, the scorching sun leaves traces of human shadows as they hurriedly pass by, a series of swift footprints.

"No—"

The echo of pain, once played atop the desert, soon disperses with the wind.

The source of the sound remains the figure of the hurried solitary traveler in the desert, an ordinary man donned in a star-patterned robe.

His appearance lacks specific features, but the bronze mirror in his hand is quite distinctive.

The bronze mirror reflects precisely the imagery of the Returning Consciousness Tomb in the Southern Region.

"Ruined."

Not knowing what he heard or thought of.

The man in the star-patterned robe puts away the bronze mirror, no longer watching, and steps forward more determinedly.

His speed is extraordinary.

Without deploying any spiritual techniques, the desert shrinks beneath his feet, and faintly from afar, starlight descends.

The man quickly traverses the desert.

The Western Region contains more than just the Great Desert; though it predominantly consists of desert, comprising ninety-nine percent.

Upon breaking through the desert, or finding an oasis within it, it mirrors the current situation of the man in the star-patterned robe.

Suddenly with a large stride, the scene before him changes, stepping from the desert into a barren zone.

Here, the sand remains, yet one can still see the impoverished soil, and occasionally, a few gray-green shoots.

A few more steps past the barren zone lead into a zone of strange rocks.

Here, towering rocks appear bizarre, and the terrain begins to steepen; not far ahead, a hint of green suggests further up lies a "mountain."

Mountains signify trees, and trees signify vitality.

Visible mountains in the Western Region are mostly barren, devoid of life.

As the man in the star-patterned robe raises his gaze to the farthest steep place in the distance, there is indeed a touch of green.

"Buddhist Sect..."

He does not pause.

A few more strides forward bring him from the zone of strange rocks into the depths of an ancient forest.

Streams, forest birds, floral scents...comparing this scene to the Western Desert is like heaven to h*ll.

Upon turning from a rarely trodden path within the forest, the scene opens up, and before him stands a small, dilapidated temple.

At the temple front stands a young monk dozing off, looking no older than seven or eight, leaning on a wooden stick, nodding his head downward.

"Eh?"

He suddenly wakes, rubbing his eyes, looking toward the visitor at the temple.

"Ah!"

The young monk shouts.

He abruptly pushes away the stick, taking two quick steps but fails to run.

Upon turning just his head inside the temple entrance, as his foot follows through, his head twists back:

"Amitabha Buddha, dear benefactor, please wait a moment."

As his foot returns, his head is pulled back inside the temple, and amidst scattered movements, he drags his feet back in, rushing in while shouting:

"Abbot! Abbot Youxi!"

"Someone has really come, someone has finally arrived, quickly, come and see, come quickly and look!"

The man in the star-patterned robe smiles slightly at the corner of his eyes, witnessing the vibrant life ahead.

The old temple seems to hold quite a few people, faint sounds of commotion emanate, but no one appears.

"Caw—"

Suddenly at a moment, the crows in the forest scatter in fright, the leaves rustle wildly.

The mountain path shivers slightly, as something heavy seems to weigh down at the temple entrance with a thud; raising his eyes, he sees a stout old monk.

The old monk looks rather amiable; draped in a red kasaya, wearing long jade beads around his neck, earlobes hanging down to the jaw, with a kindly, benevolent face.

"Amitabha Buddha."

Blocking the way at the temple entrance, the old monk clasps his hands together, wearing a repentant expression, he begins:

"A friend has come from afar; it is proper to offer tea as hospitality."

"But alas, deep in the mountains and forests, there is no grain or rice; the wood of the temple is either old or withered; I hope the esteemed guest forgives, not to invite inside the temple, any matters can be discussed at the temple front."

"Or perhaps in front of the forest stands a cool pavilion, where thick tea and simple cups await, the guest may go at their leisure."

He gestures in a direction then once more joins his hands, bowing his head, muttering lightly: "Sin, sin."

The man in the star-patterned robe laughs upon hearing: "I am indeed somewhat thirsty, an esteemed monk doesn’t speak falsehoods, does your temple truly have no tea at all?"

The old monk sighs deeply upon hearing.

"Clang, clang, clang—"

Within the temple sounds of jars breaking and bowls shattering arise, accompanied by the rustling of grain rolling on the ground, and a chorus of hushed sighs.

The old monk closes his eyes heavily before speaking: "There is none left."

"This makes me seem inhumane..."

The man in the star-patterned robe says while pulling out a bronze mirror, glancing at it, yet not intending to leave, "The elder monk does not inquire of my name, or what I seek?"

"A visitor from afar is a guest, destinies end in dust, worldly troubles avoid the mortal heart." The old monk shakes his head slightly, indicating he isn’t quite interested.

The man in the star-patterned robe is evidently reluctant for the encounter to end, respectfully clasping his hands, he says: "I am Nangong Youshu, may I ask how should I address the abbot?"

The old monk covers his ears, indicating he didn’t hear the name.

"Abbot Youxi, do you truly have no desire to hear what Nangong seeks on this journey, it might be quite entertaining?"

"Once entering Buddhism, all worldly ties cut, travelers coming and going are like smoke and clouds."

"Abbot, your temple walls are quite low, feels like I could leap over with a simple rabbit kick."

"Master Nangong, what is the purpose of this visit?"

The self-proclaimed Nangong Youshu, the man in the star-patterned robe, this time smiles with squinted eyes.

Soon he becomes earnest, hands clasped in respect, kindly saying:

"I am Nangong Youshu."

He intentionally emphasizes once more, then continues:

"I come from the Southern Region of the Land of Sin, intending to transmit the Way of the Heavens’ energy movement in the Western Region, yet along the way, finding only death and no vitality, I feel quite desolated."

"Passing by this mountain forest and ancient temple, finding it vibrant and lively, naturally it feels extraordinary, thus I came specifically to visit."

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