Chapter 2872: Three More Years At The Temple
Three years passed like petals drifting on a quiet stream.
Lin Mu remained at the Green Lotus Temple, his presence becoming as natural as the rising sun over the temple's mist-veiled peaks. In these years, he trained, taught, healed, and meditated. The once-foreign bearer of the White Jade Ruyi had now become one of the most beloved and respected figures within the entire Silent Lotus World.
Every morning, Lin Mu would walk the temple grounds, the sleeves of his simple robes catching the wind like flowing silk. The monks greeted him with clasped hands and bowed heads—not from fear or obligation, but with warmth and reverence.
He continued to explore the Healing Heart Sutra, slowly uncovering its deeper layers. At first, it had merely healed wounds and purged toxins. But as time passed, Lin Mu discovered subtler aspects: the ability to cleanse lingering curses, soothe emotional trauma, and even restore spiritual damage caused by forbidden techniques.
The cost, however, remained. The worse the wound, the deeper the corruption, the more Qi the sutra devoured. It demanded a toll from its user—not one of pain, but of endurance. And Lin Mu, unwilling to let others suffer, paid it without complaint.
To temper the drain, Lin Mu devised new meditation routines, some based on the ancient techniques within the temple, others inspired by his own experiences. With the help of the monks, he also cultivated vast fields of spiritual herbs around the Eighth Herb Peak, their energies nourishing him between healing sessions.
The Eighth Peak itself had transformed. Once a simple farming hill, it had become a Sacred Peak in name and spirit. Verdant life covered its slopes. The mutated Urim Lotuses thrived beneath, growing in size and strength, and the entire peak pulsed with tranquil energy.
Sometimes, at night, monks would claim to see flickers of green light circling the peak, like dancing fireflies. A few even dreamed of the Green Petal Urim Lotus, her illusionary voice whispering words of healing and hope. Whether true or not, it only added to the mystique of Lin Mu's presence.
Despite the peace, Lin Mu had not grown complacent. He knew the world beyond the temple had not stopped moving.
Word had reached them occasionally—rumors of sects falling, of demonic cultivators rising in the northern ranges, of ancient beasts stirring beneath the sea of clouds. The fragile balance of the cultivation world trembled more with each season.
Still, Lin Mu remained.
Not because he feared the outside world, but because the Healing Heart Sutra required time—time to grow, to ripen, to awaken.
In the second year, he began experimenting with healing formations. Using Immortal runes, talismans, and the resonance of the temple's natural energies, he created restorative zones within the temple grounds. Pilgrims and injured cultivators flocked to them, often experiencing healing just from entering their range.
He did not charge for this. He asked for no favors. His only price was sincerity.
"Come with a heart that wishes to be healed," he once said, "not a mind that wishes to own healing."
In the third year, Lin Mu began mentoring younger monks more seriously. He did not consider himself a teacher, but they clung to his words all the same. Among them was Meng Bai, the boy who once struggled with basic formation writing. Under Lin Mu's guidance, the child grew into a fine practitioner of healing formations and even created a minor technique of his own—one that helped stabilize spiritual veins in wounded beasts.
Lin Mu smiled when he saw it, pride glowing in his eyes like a quiet lantern.
Meng Bai had also progressed a lot in his cultivation, having reached the Peak of the nascent Soul realm, the Adult Soul Stage. He was also close to his next breakthrough, having already figured out what kind of Dao Shell he wished to form.
The Sutra had changed Lin Mu. Not just his powers, but his heart. The Calming Heart Sutra had shown him stillness, the Severing Heart Sutra discipline, the Burning Heart Sutra fury, the Nurturing Heart Sutra compassion, and the Murdering Heart Sutra clarity in darkness.
But it was the Healing Heart Sutra that taught him patience.
To nurture life, one must first be willing to wait for it to bloom.
Still, not all was rest.
Once, during the end of the third year, a band of corrupted cultivators descended upon the outer regions of the lotus prefecture. They were poisoned, diseased, and maddened by cursed arts. This was the first time such a conflict was happening within the region in hundreds of years thus many were shocked.
The monks readied for battle, fearing infection, but Lin Mu walked calmly to meet them alone.
He placed his hand upon the ground and whispered the sutra.
Within moments, tendrils of green light burst from the earth, enveloping the bandits. Plants grew around their feet—not binding them, but purifying. The poison was burned away. The madness lifted. They fell to their knees and wept like children, crying for lives they had long abandoned.
He healed them. Then he let them choose.
Some stayed at the temple to learn repentance. Others wandered off, seeking purpose elsewhere. But all remembered the man in white robes with eyes like the wind-carved sky.
It was on start of the fourth anniversary of his learning of the Healing Heart Sutra that the abbot summoned Lin Mu to the inner sanctum.
"You've done much for us, Bearer Lin Mu," the old monk said, gazing at a mural of the various buddhas. "Perhaps it is time you venture out again."
Lin Mu looked up, quiet.
"There are places that need you more than we do. Realms where the Healing Heart Sutra may blossom into its true form." The abbot turned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The temple will always be here. But perhaps it is time you became more than just a guardian of peace."
Lin Mu didn't reply immediately. He looked toward the west, where the morning sun pierced through clouds like golden spears.
"I've learned a lot here," he finally said. "But perhaps it is time to explore the rest of the world and learn even more."
The abbot nodded.
"Then go, and walk the path of benevolence. Heal the wounds of the world."
Lin Mu smiled faintly. His hand brushed the sleeve where the White Jade Ruyi rested.
The temple bells rang in the distance.
A new chapter was about to begin.
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