The tolling of the bell, the violet flames, and the relic.

The moment the head of the evil Buddha spoke, Chen Huangpi sensed something was wrong. An excruciating pain split his mind, and a sudden urge to shave his head and become a monk arose within him. He had never before entertained such a thought, nor had he ever seen a monk.

“Aaaah!”
Clutching his head, Chen Huangpi cried out in agony. His master was a Taoist priest—he had no desire to become a monk.

“Chen Huangpi, what’s happening to you?”
The brass oil lamp dared not halt its Divine Light, but was anxious for Chen Huangpi’s state. It could not comprehend the Sanskrit uttered by the evil Buddha, as if even the act of conversion required a threshold.

“Er Huang, I feel awful,” Chen Huangpi groaned. “I don’t want to be a monk. My master is a Taoist; I want to follow his path.”

“What?”
Only then did the brass oil lamp realize that the evil Buddha sought to convert Chen Huangpi. It was both alarmed and enraged. If the Abbot knew his precious disciple was to become a monk, wouldn’t he be furious beyond measure?

Yes—the Abbot!
A sudden thought struck the brass oil lamp.
“Chen Huangpi, there’s only one way. Shout with all your strength. Call out to the Three Abbots to save you.”
The Three Abbots had not yet left the old temple; he must still be here. If Chen Huangpi called for help, however mad he may be, he would not ignore him.

Hearing this, Chen Huangpi looked upward, but saw only thick, impenetrable blue mist, not his third master. He had long considered crying out for help, but his purpose here was to take either the Golden Horn or Silver Horn, to retrieve the Soul Jade below the Yellow Spring and save the spirits of his first and second masters, and to prevent his third master from leaving the old temple. If he cried for help, would his third master truly intervene?

Chen Huangpi did not know; he only knew he did not wish to convert to the evil Buddha, for he had but one master.

“Third master, save me!”
“I don’t want to shave my head!”
“I don’t want to convert!”
“Third master, it wants to shave my head!”
Chen Huangpi screamed with all his might, but as before, there was no response.

The brass oil lamp froze. “How can this be? Why won’t the Three Abbots act?”

A wave of bitterness swept over Chen Huangpi, and his proud head drooped. He murmured, “Master, have you abandoned me?”
He felt even more sorrowful as he spoke.
“No, my master would never forsake me. It’s just the third master who will not help. If it were the first or second master, they would never let me be bullied.”

As his words fell, suddenly the world around Chen Huangpi fell silent.
The evil Buddha’s head opened and closed its mouth, but not a sound escaped.
For the Nine Separation Bell had been struck.

Its sound soared skyward, piercing heaven and earth, mingled with agony, distortion, and madness.
Boom!

The instant the Nine Separation Bell rang out, the entire world grew silent.
The conversion chant of the evil Buddha paled completely in comparison to the bell’s toll.

Whenever the bell was struck, the old temple was enveloped in an extraordinary peace.
All restless evil beings either prostrated themselves, hid in corners, or dared not stir.

Before the bell rang, any sound could exist within the old temple; the evil beings could act as they wished.
But after the bell tolled, only silence remained.
For only one sound was permitted here.

The brass oil lamp was overjoyed. “Chen Huangpi, don’t be sad. We’re saved!”

“Why should I be sad?” Chen Huangpi replied.

“Huh? Your words were so sorrowful, I felt indignant for you. Aren’t you upset?”

“I did it on purpose. Why should I be sad?”

Chen Huangpi raised his head, and there was not a trace of sorrow on his face.
It was as though, when mentioning the third master before the first and second, they would denounce and curse him, and so it should be before the third master as well.

Chen Huangpi understood his masters too well.
The third master was also his master.
A phrase like, ‘If it were the first and second masters, they would never let me be bullied,’ even if the third master had the greatest matters at hand and was intent on leaving the old temple, he could not withstand such a heavy blow.

“Look, this evil Buddha is asking for death!”
The brass oil lamp gloated, now utterly unafraid. Once the Three Abbots acted, no matter how powerful the evil Buddha, it would have to kneel.

The tide had turned!

Chen Huangpi looked at the evil Buddha’s head.
It opened its mouth wide and roared skyward, but no sound emerged.
Indeed, only one sound could exist in the old temple—and it was not its own.

The next moment, the Nine Separation Bell rang again.

Boom!

That bell, still twisted and wild, seemed to bear immense pain.
To Chen Huangpi, it sounded crisp and pleasant, but to the evil Buddha, the smile vanished from its face, replaced by agony so contorted that blood spurted from its ears.
Its eyes were filled with terror and rage.

Behind it, the enormous, eerie halo began to spin—the evil Buddha’s nimbus, capable of seemingly reversing time.
Yet as it started to turn—

Boom!
Boom!
Boom!

Three consecutive tolls of the Nine Separation Bell.
In an instant, the evil Buddha’s nimbus was shattered to dust by the bell’s power.
Its eyes bulged grotesquely, as though about to pop out.

The evil Buddha’s head trembled like a leaf in the wind, its gaping mouth moving as if begging for mercy.
But the only answer was the relentless toll of the bell, each one laden with fury.

Silent wails escaped the evil Buddha’s head, blood streaming from its eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.
It struggled desperately, even bowing to Chen Huangpi.
But Chen Huangpi hated it too much to utter a word of mercy.

The brass oil lamp, on the other hand, was jubilant.
“Rotten Buddha head, listen well—this is the Pure Immortal Temple! Even if you’re just a head, not in your prime, even if your own Buddha came, if you dare bully Chen Huangpi, you’ll lose your head!”

“Everyone knows the Three Abbots love Chen Huangpi most.”

“Though his honor is gentle and kind, broad-minded and magnanimous, the one I admire most, even if he’s mad, he’ll stand up for his beloved Chen Huangpi!”

The brass oil lamp praised the Three Abbots with reckless abandon—one, to stoke the fire; two, to win favor; three, in hopes that if the Three Abbots really appeared, perhaps these heartfelt, thunderous words would earn it a lighter punishment.

But with these words, the bell’s toll abruptly ceased.

“Ah! Three Abbots, please continue—I’ll shut up at once!”
The brass oil lamp panicked, clinging tightly to Chen Huangpi’s leg.

“Third master?”
Chen Huangpi was equally confused.

The evil Buddha’s head, however, seemed to understand something.
Without hesitation, it darted downward, as if fleeing from some impending doom, faster than light.

But something was faster.

A thick, dragon-like violet true fire suddenly descended from the heavens above, straight toward the evil Buddha’s head.

Chen Huangpi was stunned. “It’s the first master…”

Fire comes in seven colors.
His first master often tossed him into the Nine Dragons Furnace, always using blue true fire.
But Chen Huangpi knew the first master also had violet true fire, and even another flame above that.

His master had never used such flames on him.

Now, even at a distance, Chen Huangpi could feel the terrifying heat of the violet true fire.

Yet, to him, it felt warm.

The evil Buddha’s head was not so lucky.
The violet true fire closed in and engulfed it.
The black tumors atop its head melted and burned away.
The fire even ignited its skull; streams of flame erupted from its flesh, growing ever fiercer.

The evil Buddha’s head could no longer scream; its very essence was consumed by the flames.

Like a meteor, it crashed to earth.

Boom…

Smoke and dust billowed, earth trembled.
Looking out, Chen Huangpi saw a vast pit on the ground, bottomless, with violet flames still erupting.

The brass oil lamp puzzled aloud, “The Great Abbot and Third Abbot have acted—how can the Second Abbot restrain himself?”

Though it was unclear how the Great Abbot, outside the old temple, could strike from afar, if he could, so could the Third Abbot.

“It seems the second master has acted already,” Chen Huangpi said, uncertain.

But at the instant the violet true fire appeared, the Six Yin God within his mind suddenly pulsed, as if sensing something.

The brass oil lamp looked around. “Where? I don’t see it. You must have mistaken.”

Suddenly, with a thud, a black stone struck the brass oil lamp’s head.

“Ow, ow, ow! Second Abbot, forgive me, I shouldn’t have spoken ill of you!”

The brass oil lamp clutched its head, grimacing.
Its body was incredibly tough, but a single stone could make it cry in pain—no doubt the Second Abbot was behind this.

For the Second Abbot was the most petty, and utterly mad; simply seeing him inspired fear.

“What is this?”
Chen Huangpi eyed the black stone floating before him, curious.

“A sarira!”
The brass oil lamp exclaimed, “The Second Abbot is truly ruthless—without a sign, he snatched the evil Buddha’s sarira.”

“What use does the evil Buddha’s sarira have?”

“I don’t know.”

The brass oil lamp was stumped; recognizing it didn’t mean knowing its purpose.
It only felt this thing was saturated with evil, not wise to keep close.

But the Second Abbot had thrown it out, clearly intending for Chen Huangpi to take it.

“No matter; the second master wouldn’t harm me.”

Chen Huangpi took the evil Buddha’s sarira and looked upward.

Earlier, the first master’s violet true fire had descended from the heavens, burning away the blue mist to carve out a path.

At the path’s end, the mist was thin, and the vague outline of the Scripture Hall could be seen.

(End of chapter)