Chapter 434: Chapter 434

Lei Jun studied the omen he had drawn, raising his eyebrows slightly.

Was something about to happen at the Bodhi Monastery of the Southern Jin?

Any mention of "north and south" often had something to do with the Sumeru Buddhist Division of the Northern Court.

But based on the intelligence Lei Jun currently possessed, the head of the Sumeru Division, Vimasha, hadn't shown up in the mortal realm for a long time—he was likely preoccupied within Sumeru.

Likewise, the head of the Treasure Division in the Han Mortal Realm, Vandato, and the Karma Division Master of the Great Ming, Jatiluo, were probably in similar situations.

With Vimasha absent from the mortal world, it stood to reason that the Sumeru Buddhist Division wouldn’t act on its own or make any big moves.

On the other hand, Little Western Heaven had also remained relatively quiet lately.

They were still focused on consolidating their foothold within the Southern Jin Dynasty.

From current information, the Sumeru Buddhists were generally stronger than those of Shambhala.

Meanwhile, the Shambhala Buddhists were still contending with both the Ten Dynasties and the Witch Sect of Mount Ling.

The fact that the Golden Khan Ongqinfu had recently passed through Sumeru had also made the Shambhala faction more cautious—they wouldn’t easily start anything without sufficient assurance.

So then, this mention of the Southern and Northern Bodhi—did it imply Vimasha was returning to the mortal world? Or did the Southern Jin’s Bodhi Monastery hold something unique that might lure the Sumeru Division into taking such a risk?

As for the most noteworthy feature of the Bodhi Monastery's current inheritance, Lei Jun’s first thought wasn’t about the fact that its abbot was a Shambhala-appointed envoy.

Rather, it was about the Southern Jin Crown Prince—before taking up his post in the Eastern Palace, he had cultivated Buddhist martial arts, precisely the legacy of the Bodhi Monastery.

Could this incident be related to him?

Since there were no other pressing matters, and with the omens pointing this way, Lei Jun decided to follow their guidance and see what he could uncover.

He reviewed the reading once more.

The crucial turning point would be at the start of You Hour the next day, so there was plenty of time.

Leaving the Southern Jin capital of Jianye, Lei Jun traveled a thousand miles south to the northern foothills of Mount Yunzhou.

The area was desolate and rarely visited.

After a quick scan, Lei Jun confirmed there wasn’t anything notable about the foothills themselves.

But given the phrase "Thousand-Mile Rainbow," this Third-Grade Opportunity was either coming from Jianye or from the Southern Jin Bodhi Monastery.

The Zhou Heavenly Mirror of Jade Purity, which had accompanied Lei Jun on his trip to the mortal realms of the Jin dynasties, began scanning the surroundings, then turned north to focus on the area between Jianye and the monastery.

Since he’d already chosen to follow this upper-moderate omen, Lei Jun settled in at Mount Yunzhou to wait and observe.

Under the mirror's surveillance, the Southern Jin Bodhi Monastery was bustling with incense offerings.

But aside from the regular devotees, Lei Jun spotted quite a few suspicious individuals.

Some were laypeople, some monks, but all appeared to be some form of entourage.

The Crown Prince is here... Lei Jun speculated.

Even after entering the Eastern Palace, the Crown Prince had never completely cut ties with the Bodhi Monastery or Little Western Heaven.

In fact, the Southern Jin Emperor himself visited Little Western Heaven quite frequently.

But based on what he was seeing now, this seemed like a covert visit.

The Zhou Heavenly Mirror hovered high in the sky, monitoring the monastery and its surroundings.

Although the current abbot, Master Yuanfeng, was a disciple of Shambhala and had reached the Fifth Layer of the Ninth Heaven Realm, he was still not strong enough to detect the mirror's gaze.

After expanding the observation range, Lei Jun soon discovered another group of hidden Buddhist cultivators approaching stealthily.

They wore the distinctive robes of the Sumeru Buddhists—not the Vajra Division’s blue nor the Lotus Division’s red, but with white lining—marking them as members of the Sumeru Division.

“They’re here,” Lei Jun nodded slightly, sitting quietly to observe.

Even though Vimasha wasn’t present, the Sumeru Division had sent many formidable monks.

The Bodhi Monastery alone might not be able to hold them off.

The two Jin dynasties had been at odds for years, each wary of the other.

For so many top-tier monks to infiltrate Southern Jin without making waves—it could only mean this was something deep and dangerous.

Inside a secluded meditation chamber at the Bodhi Monastery, two people sat facing each other.

One was a young man in his thirties with his eyes closed in deep meditation.

He was none other than Crown Prince Cao Kong of the Southern Jin.

Having shed his usual regal attire, he wore a monk’s robe as he always did when visiting the temple.

Even with his hair loose over his shoulders, he gave off an air of solemn sanctity.

He had entered a profound meditative state—Non-Perception, Non-Non-Perception—right at a critical juncture in his cultivation.

The martial lineage of Buddhist Zen emphasized real combat and rigorous training in mystical abilities. Outwardly, it resembled martial arts or the path of the Alchemical Daoists.

While it lacked the speed and explosive power of pure martial artists, it was immensely powerful in both offense and defense.

The Buddhist body, honed through countless temperings, wielded enormous strength—capable of feats like grappling dragons or moving mountains.

In defense, though not as formidable as Alchemical Daoists with their Golden Cores, Buddhist cultivators had stronger physical bodies and greater stamina.

Still, in all Buddhist paths, mental discipline was paramount.

Zen martial cultivation was no different—it worked from the inside out.

Unlike most warriors, who faltered with blood loss and injuries, Buddhist cultivators suffered only when their mental state fractured. A lapse in will could undermine even the strongest body.

But if the mind remained firm, so did the body.

Opposite Cao Kong sat his former teacher, the abbot of the Bodhi Monastery, Master Yuanfeng.

The abbot looked at him and nodded slowly.

Among the current generation of Southern Jin royals, Cao Kong stood out as someone with deep Buddhist roots and exceptional talent—a boon not only for the Bodhi Monastery but also for Little Western Heaven and the Shambhala faction.

With his talent and their support, he had clearly outshone his royal siblings.

In another dynasty, another time, Cao Kong wouldn’t have even been in the running for Crown Prince, much less the throne.

But Southern Jin was a different story.

There had been much debate, of course.

But Little Western Heaven and Shambhala were confident they could quell any opposition and secure Cao Kong’s ascension.

“Master,” Cao Kong spoke after a long while, ending his meditation and opening his eyes with serene composure.

Master Yuanfeng smiled, nodding, and took something out.

Cao Kong looked closely—his eyes briefly showing surprise.

“A Tricolored Bodhi?”

Yuanfeng smiled: “The Venerable personally instructed that it be sent to you from Shambhala.”

Cao Kong’s expression remained calm, but he folded his hands in reverence: “Buddha is merciful.”

His measured response made Yuanfeng even more pleased, and he too chanted the Buddha’s name: “Buddha is merciful.”

The golden-white-blue Bodhi branch floated from Yuanfeng’s hands to hover before Cao Kong.

He took it reverently.

Because of deficiencies in the Southern Jin’s national destiny, even as Crown Prince, Cao Kong received minimal support from the Mandate of Mountains and Rivers. Compared to Tang’s Zhang Hui or Han’s Xiang Jing, his benefits were limited.

Frankly speaking, even the Southern Jin Emperor himself didn’t think much of their own national fortune, let alone the Crown Prince.

Thus, Cao Kong’s shift to cultivating the Sovereign’s Art was largely symbolic.

What helped him far more was this Tricolored Bodhi.

It wasn’t just a treasure for Zen martial training—it was valuable to the entire Buddhist tradition.

Clearly, Shambhala had placed great trust in Cao Kong by bestowing such a treasure.

“These few days, stay here and cultivate in peace,” said Yuanfeng. “It may not be as refined as Shambhala, but it’s quieter than the capital.”

Cao Kong pressed his palms together: “Shambhala is a land of bliss, beyond the impurity of this world. Though I only spent a short time there under your guidance, I still cherish it and hope to return someday for extended cultivation.”

Yuanfeng chuckled and shook his head: “Foolish child, desire is a poison—guard against greed, anger, and ignorance.”

Cao Kong smiled: “You are right, Master.”

Yuanfeng continued, “If your heart holds the Buddha, every place is fit for cultivation. The mortal world is chaotic—but precisely because of that, we must bring salvation, making it a land of blessings. With such merit, one naturally enters Shambhala.”

Cao Kong replied, “Well said. Shambhala is a place of cultivation. So is the Bodhi Monastery. So is the royal palace.”

He bowed, then sat cross-legged, entering meditation once again with the Tricolored Bodhi in hand.

The sacred branch quivered slightly, emitting golden, white, and blue light.

Unfortunately, Cao Kong’s meditation was soon interrupted.

At Mount Yunzhou’s northern foothills, Lei Jun had waited a full day. Now, the moment predicted by the omen—three quarters into You Hour on the second day—was nearly here.

Through the Zhou Heavenly Mirror, he watched the battle erupt at the Bodhi Monastery.

Sumeru Buddhist experts from the Northern Court had launched a surprise assault on this Southern sanctuary.

The battle flared white-hot from the first moment.

The invaders included multiple Ninth Heaven monks, and the sudden attack left Abbot Yuanfeng on the defensive.

But the fight ended quickly.

Though the Southern Jin Emperor remained in the capital, many top cultivators rushed to reinforce the monastery.

Monks from Xuantian Temple and Tianlong Temple arrived as well.

But the true turning point came when Abbot Baoneng of Little Western Heaven entered the field.

The South’s foremost Buddhist master, his intervention ensured the monastery and Crown Prince Cao Kong were saved.

With the Zhou Heavenly Mirror, Lei Jun calmly observed it all.

Baoneng had reached the Fifth Layer of the Ninth Heaven—both spiritually and mentally powerful—but his focus was locked on the battle, and he never noticed the mirror above.

Lei Jun had no intention of interfering.

He simply watched as North and South Buddhists clashed over Cao Kong and the Tricolored Bodhi.

Without Vimasha present, the Sumeru monks were forced to retreat in defeat, suffering heavy losses.

But Abbot Baoneng was far from pleased.

Cao Kong’s visit was meant to be secret. Very few in either the temple or the capital knew.

Yet so many Sumeru monks had infiltrated undetected—it raised far too many questions.

Though Cao Kong was unharmed, his meditation was ruined.

Worse, the Tricolored Bodhi was nearly lost.

In the chaos, it shattered—its essence dispersing into a pale golden rainbow that flew into the sky.

Cao Kong bowed to Abbot Baoneng. “This disciple has failed the Venerable, failed my Martial Uncle, and failed Master.”

“No need to dwell on it,” Baoneng replied. “Though the Tricolored Bodhi was destroyed, there's still a chance to salvage the situation.”

He instructed Master Yuanfeng, “I’ll remain here a bit longer. Please take a trip south and collect the remnants of the Bodhi essence.”

Master Yuanfeng pressed his palms together. “Understood, Senior Brother.”

He nodded to Cao Kong as well, then followed the path where the pale golden rainbow had disappeared and headed south.

A distance of over a thousand miles posed little problem for someone at the Altar Stage of the Buddhist path.

Though Buddhist cultivators weren’t known for agility compared to martial artists, those who had attained the Altar Realm typically possessed miraculous steps—lotuses blooming with each stride.

The golden rainbow had vanished in a flash, but with Yuanfeng’s pace, he wasn’t necessarily any slower. He’d only started a breath later.

He moved swiftly southward and soon reached the Mount Yunzhou area.

But after scanning in all directions, he found no trace of the golden rainbow.

Nor was there any residual Buddhist essence left behind.

Master Yuanfeng was puzzled. In that moment, he uncharacteristically questioned himself—had he misjudged the rainbow’s landing site?

He widened the search radius and scanned the surrounding region, but still found nothing.

Then a cold realization struck him.

He hadn’t been wrong. Someone else had gotten there first and taken the golden rainbow.

Harvesting the rainbow was no easy feat—it required immense power and cultivation.

And to do so without leaving a trace, beyond his ability to detect, meant that this person’s strength vastly surpassed his own.

In an instant, Yuanfeng abandoned all thought of the Tricolored Bodhi and fell into deep doubt and unease.

Had they been waiting here on purpose? Or was it coincidence?

Could Vimasha, the head of the Sumeru Division, have secretly returned to the mortal world?

Or was it some other Sumeru master—or perhaps someone else entirely?

Local cultivators like Shen Xi, Xiao Chan, or even the Southern Jin Emperor shouldn’t be capable of this… and if they were, then the implications were even more alarming.

Yuanfeng quickly contacted Abbot Baoneng of Little Western Heaven.

When Baoneng arrived later and surveyed the scene, his expression was equally grave.

The two high monks from Shambhala looked at each other, confused and unsettled, a faint chill rising in their hearts.

“The Venerable must know something about this,” Yuanfeng said softly.

Baoneng nodded, though he didn’t look any more reassured.

At the third quarter of You Hour, Lei Jun sat quietly at the northern base of Mount Yunzhou, watching a streak of pale gold arc across the northern sky.

The rainbow spanned the heavens and descended directly toward where he sat.

Having already witnessed the entire battle at the Bodhi Monastery, Lei Jun had a clear idea of what this was.

The Fifth-Grade Opportunity mentioned in the moderate-moderate omen was likely that Tricolored Bodhi.

It was indeed a great treasure. The Sumeru Division likely had many goals in their raid, but if they could’ve taken the Tricolored Bodhi, that would’ve been ideal.

But for a Daoist cultivator like Lei Jun, it wasn’t all that valuable.

It was a rare opportunity, yes—but to retrieve it from the Bodhi Monastery would’ve meant confronting Abbot Baoneng himself.

That man had fully mastered the Ninth Heaven Realm. Lei Jun might not fear him, but to forcibly take the Bodhi would risk exposing his true identity.

That slight threat was what the omen had hinted at.

Now, however, the situation was entirely different.

Lei Jun was alone at the foot of Mount Yunzhou. The golden rainbow was flying directly to him.

No one else was around. No need to fight, not even a witness.

With his cultivation, Lei Jun easily took the golden rainbow without leaving a trace.

[Immaculate Golden Rainbow]—a name surfaced in his mind as if by divine insight.

So this was the Third-Grade Opportunity hinted at in the upper-moderate omen... Lei Jun understood.

With his keen perception and comprehension, he didn’t even need to analyze it closely to recognize its extraordinary value.

This Immaculate Golden Rainbow had formed from the intense clash between Northern and Southern Buddhist cultivators. Their profound Buddhist energies had destroyed the Tricolored Bodhi, and under the natural convergence of essences, it had transformed into something entirely new.

For Buddhist monks, it might be hard to say whether this or the original Bodhi held more value.

For Cao Kong, the Bodhi had been more suitable.

But for Lei Jun, a Daoist cultivator, the rainbow was far more useful.

He instantly realized it was similar in nature to the Black Abyss Water Marrow he had obtained in the past.

That, combined with the Xihe Flowing Gold he’d later acquired in Penglai, had helped him refine the Solitary Phase of Water, a core part of his current cultivation at the Third Layer of the Ninth Heaven.

Now, this Immaculate Golden Rainbow contained aspects of Shambhala, one of the Nine Heavens—perhaps even surpassing the Water Marrow.

When the time came for Lei Jun to form the Fourth Layer of the Ninth Heaven and refine the Sevenfold White Radiance, this golden rainbow could serve as the perfect catalyst for its Duality Aspect.

Of course, as the omen had warned, there were some potential risks.

As he sealed and temporarily suppressed the golden rainbow, Lei Jun sensed something within it—a faint pair of eyes, trying to open and peer at him.

But his own power was immense. With a single suppression, the rainbow—and those eyes—were silenced.

The only one from Shambhala with this level of spiritual might would be Venerable Puguang.

If Lei Jun recklessly refined the rainbow, he might give Puguang a chance to intrude—invite a wolf into the house, as the saying went.

And with Buddhist Venerables, their strength of spirit and soul was not to be underestimated.

Fortunately, the omen had also said: Handled properly, no harm will follow.

With a flicker of thought, Lei Jun had a solution.

He would find the right moment to weaken the rainbow’s Buddhist essence—a better time for refinement would come.

But for now, he left Mount Yunzhou after safely storing the rainbow.

He expected some Buddhist cultivators might come looking.

But he had no intention of revealing himself—nor of attacking anyone.

Better to stay completely hidden.

The Southern Jin would soon fall into inner chaos. Lei Jun had no interest in getting involved.

So before Master Yuanfeng even arrived at Mount Yunzhou, Lei Jun was already gone.

He cloaked himself and traveled north—toward the capital of the Northern Jin.

Unfortunately, even there, he found no useful clues about the Grotto-Heaven of Jade Purity and Grand Unity.

Obtaining the Immaculate Golden Rainbow made the journey worthwhile, but it had failed in terms of his original goal.

Still, Lei Jun didn’t feel frustrated. If it comes to me, so be it. If not, then it’s fate. His mind remained calm.

Leaving the Northern Jin capital, he thought briefly, then returned to the former site of Mount Longhu in Xinzhou.

After checking the place thoroughly, Lei Jun left behind several of his own Spirit Talismans.

They shimmered briefly, then sank into the earth veins beneath the mountains.

Each talisman split into countless copies.

In an instant, tens of thousands of talismans scattered through the river of spiritual energy within the earth, dispersing in all directions and vanishing without a trace.

Lei Jun formed another hand seal at his chest, generating new talismans. Together, they formed a Ritual Formation, set deep beneath Mount Longhu.

The formation quietly activated, receiving feedback from the dispersed talismans.

Normally, such talismans would disintegrate quickly under the strain of earth-spirit flows.

But with Lei Jun’s current cultivation, they would last.

Thus, the formation gathered intelligence from far and wide, helping Lei Jun continue his search for the Grotto-Heaven of Jade Purity and Grand Unity.

If the grotto still existed somewhere in the Jin mortal realms, this method might eventually reveal it. It was only a matter of time.

Lacking any clearer lead, Lei Jun decided this brute-force scanning method would suffice.

Since he wouldn’t remain in the Jin region himself, he left it to this array.

Like Xu Yuanzhen, Lei Jun now turned his attention toward the movements of the Great Han Dynasty and Mount Longhu of Han in the Han Mortal Realm.

Having completed everything, he dusted off his hands and departed the Jin realms, returning to the Tang Empire.

He left behind two unsettled dynasties—Southern Jin and Northern Jin—each rife with internal strife.

And in the shadows, the aristocrats of the Han quietly conspired, working to dig beneath the foundations of both kingdoms.

Former Song Mortal Realm.

Although there were rumors that the Golden Khan Ongqinfu was slumbering in the outer void, both the Canglang Khanate and the remnants of the Great Song dared not let their guard down.

Ongqinfu’s dormancy in the outer void—unlike places like Sumeru, the Land of the Deep Sea, or the Return Ruins within the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths—meant he was unlikely to receive messages from the mortal realm in a timely manner.

Even if those of the Golden Khanate, like Haritana, managed to send word to their khan, whether he responded was a matter only Heaven could determine.

It might be immediate.

Or it might be as if cast into a sea of silence, with no reply for years.

This wasn’t because Ongqinfu had other plans, but simply because slumbering in the outer void meant he couldn't receive messages right away.

That was one of the major downsides of immortals choosing to rest in the outer void instead of within the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.

Still, neither the Canglang Khanate nor the Song remnants dared gamble on that.

While there was still ongoing conflict within the former Song Mortal Realm, the intensity of it had waned.

Jingxiang, now reduced to a lifeless wasteland, stood as a chilling testament to the overwhelming power of the Martial Immortal.

Far from Jingxiang, other locations in the mortal world—once torn apart by fractured lands and mountains—had formed the Deep Valleys of Youluo and Lightless Domains.

To ordinary mortals, such terrain was bleak and desolate.

Yet they had become refuge to the exiled Nine Li Clans who had withdrawn from the Land of the Deep Sea.

Surprisingly, Li Yuanheng, once the ruler of that underwater dominion, did not take his Tan Li Clan into the Kongsang Domain as many had expected.

With help from the Grand Shamans of Kongsang, and after paying a heavy price, he finally escaped Tang Xiaotang’s relentless pursuit.

But even so, the Tan Li Clan’s situation remained dire.

The closure of the portal between the Land of the Deep Sea and the Former Song Mortal Realm—whether a blessing or a curse—was hard to say for them.

One day, a Kongsang Grand Shaman came to visit.

After Li Yuanheng hosted and saw the guest off, one of the Tan Li Elders returned and asked:

“Clan Chief… are we to enter Kongsang?”

Entering Kongsang was no paradise.

There were confirmed beings there that had surpassed even the Ninth Heaven Realm.

To the Nine Li clans, the people of Kongsang had once been descendants of the Xuanyuan line, just like themselves.

Even setting aside old grievances and the discomfort of being under another’s roof, Kongsang simply lacked a livable environment for the Nine Li people. In many ways, the Lightless Domains of the Former Song Realm were more suitable.

“We will not go to Kongsang,” came Li Yuanheng’s calm reply from the darkness.

“But because of Kongsang… we might get a chance to return to the Deep Sea.”

The Elder hesitated. “But your injuries…”

Li Yuanheng replied evenly, “I lost a lot of vital energy, but thanks to Kongsang’s assistance earlier, it’s no longer serious.”

The closing of the Deep Sea portal might be an obstacle for others.

But not for the one who once ruled that realm.

He only had one shot—but he intended to make it count.

And he certainly wouldn’t pave the way for Ongqinfu to benefit at his expense.

“We’ll wait and see,” Li Yuanheng said softly. “Kongsang is about to make a major move.”