Chapter 86: Never Seeing the True Buddha

Sun Yuan’s soul was destroyed, and his body crashed to the ground with a deafening boom, like a meteor striking the Nine Provinces. The earth trembled slightly from the impact.

Jiang Li tossed the corpse to Yu Yin, leaving it to her to handle. Whether she refined it into a puppet or burned it to vent her anger—it made no difference to him.

Yu Yin bit her lip, her gaze complicated as she looked at Jiang Li’s expressionless face.

She had risked everything, putting her life on the line to break through to the Tribulation Stage. Yet, Jiang Li had effortlessly slain a peak Tribulation Stage cultivator, leaving him no chance to fight back.

Was the Mahayana Stage truly this powerful?

With national fortune protecting her and an immortal artifact in hand, how many exchanges could she last against Jiang Li? Five moves? Maybe eight?

Regardless, she couldn’t imagine lasting ten.

Jiang Li glanced at Yu Yin, noticing her unsettled state, but said nothing.

Unlike Holy Maiden Jingxin, he understood that Yu Yin’s Dao heart was pure and resolute.

She had simply suffered betrayal, failure, and the shock of witnessing the gap between herself and him. It had shaken her.

But given a few days of reflection, she would break through this heart barrier on her own.

Jiang Li then sent Ji Kongkong back to Great Zhou.

When Ji Zhi saw Jiang Li’s expression, a chill ran down his spine.

Since Jiang Li had become the Human Sovereign, Ji Zhi had never seen his face so dark.

He appeared calm, but anyone could sense the earth-shattering fury beneath that calm.

Jiang Li simply placed Ji Kongkong down and left without saying a word.

Ji Zhi didn’t say anything either.

He knew—the Nine Provinces were about to change.

Buddhism resided in the far west of the Nine Provinces.

The land itself was infused with Buddhist teachings, emitting a faint glow, which became even more pronounced at night.

Beside the Buddhist lands lay a nation called Leshan. Though not on par with the Nine Great Dynasties, it was still a powerful country. Perhaps due to its proximity to Buddhism, its people were poor but content. It was common to see frail elders surrounded by children and grandchildren, enjoying the warmth of family.

If you stopped anyone on the street, they could recite Buddhist scriptures and even give you a lecture, explaining fundamental concepts like reincarnation, karma, the universe, and the Three Thousand Worlds.

According to legend, beneath Leshan lay a massive golden 卍 character buried in the earth—the national treasure of Leshan. Some had believed the tale and dug deep, only to find nothing but hardened soil they couldn’t break through. Eventually, they gave up and declared their failure.

Leshan was like an extension of the Buddhist sects. The entire nation worshipped Buddhism, and every household had a Buddha statue. They firmly believed in karmic retribution—suffering in this life was the result of past sins, and good deeds in this life would bring blessings in the next.

Ordinary cultivators who didn’t grasp the essence of Buddhism found Leshan’s ways incomprehensible.

Thus, few cultivators ever set foot in Leshan.

Even the profit-driven Tianji Tower had no interest in this place.

These people had no desires.

No one would come to Tianji Tower to buy intelligence.

Jiang Li walked through Leshan, gauging the density of Buddhist influence.

He noticed many people heading in the same direction as him—Mount Sumeru.

But while he walked upright, the citizens of Leshan crawled forward on their knees.

With each step, they pressed their palms together and bowed toward Mount Sumeru.

Then they stood, took another step, and bowed again—repeating the cycle endlessly.

Every day, high monks gave lectures atop Mount Sumeru, explaining the profound mysteries of Buddhism. Anyone could listen—there were no restrictions.

But few cultivators cared for Buddhist sermons.

They found Buddhism dull and incomprehensible, a waste of time that wouldn’t advance their cultivation.

Jiang Li climbed the hundred thousand steps of Mount Sumeru, relying solely on his body, without using any magic.

The steps of Mount Sumeru were unique—if one used magic, they could ascend effortlessly.

But if one relied only on their body, each step felt as heavy as carrying a mountain.

With every step, the weight multiplied.

By the time one reached the top, it was said to be equivalent to carrying a hundred thousand mountains!

Legend claimed that this was a trial left by the Buddha.

If one could reach the top by physical strength alone, they would see the True Buddha.

Many Buddhist devotees had attempted the climb.

But none had ever passed three thousand steps.

Jiang Li once thought the legend was false.

But today, he wanted to test it himself.

He showed his true face, shocking the high monks deep in meditation.

One by one, they left their temples.

They didn’t know why the current Human Sovereign had come.

But they had to witness it for themselves.

One thousand, two thousand, three thousand…

Jiang Li passed the infamous three-thousand-step barrier with ease.

His steps were steady and light, as if Mount Sumeru’s weight meant nothing to him.

Five thousand, ten thousand, fifteen thousand, twenty thousand…

The monks exchanged glances, reading the shock in each other’s eyes.

Even at twenty thousand steps, the current Human Sovereign showed no sign of difficulty.

They could no longer maintain their usual meditative composure.

They whispered among themselves—what was the Human Sovereign trying to do?

Was he seeking answers from the True Buddha?

The True Buddha had nothing to do with ascended immortals.

A True Buddha referred to an Enlightened One—someone who had opened not just the six senses, but also the seventh consciousness (manas) and the eighth consciousness (alaya).

They were eternally unchanging, their nature as indestructible as diamond, always embodying the true essence of nirvana.

Because of this, most cultivators found Buddhist teachings incomprehensible.

It was too difficult to grasp.

Yet even those unfamiliar with Buddhist philosophy knew that Buddhism had a Present Buddha and a Future Buddha.

The Present Buddha was Old Buddha of Mount Sumeru.

At 9,800 years old, he was the oldest among the Tribulation Stage cultivators.

His mastery of space surpassed all others in the Nine Provinces.

He had aided many battles against the Outer World Demons.

The Future Buddha was Buddha Wuzhi, whose wisdom was so profound that even Old Buddha of Mount Sumeru admitted inferiority.

Thirty thousand.

Forty thousand.

Fifty thousand…

The numbers seemed meaningless to Jiang Li.

His expression remained unchanged as he climbed, step by step.

Eighty thousand.

Ninety thousand.

One hundred thousand.

Jiang Li reached the peak of Mount Sumeru through pure physical strength.

He had accomplished an unprecedented feat.

Yet, he felt no joy.

The legend was false.

Reaching the summit—he saw no True Buddha.

“Furthermore, Subhuti, if a good man or good woman receives, recites, and upholds this sutra, they may be scorned by others. This scorn is the consequence of their past sins, which should have led them to the evil paths. But because they now endure scorn in this life, their past sins are thus eradicated, and they shall attain supreme enlightenment—”

A deep voice resounded.

Old Buddha of Mount Sumeru sat upon a golden lotus.

His figure was towering, his lips thick, his earlobes drooping.

His elderly face was solemn yet brimming with vigor.

His flesh was raised in bone-like mounds, resembling a topknot—one of the Thirty-Two Marks of a Buddha.

Barefoot and bare-armed, he pressed his thumb and middle finger together as he preached to his disciples.

His disciples listened, entranced.

But then, his voice abruptly stopped.

“Well met, Benefactor Jiang. What brings you here?

Why do you wear such a sorrowful expression?”

The disciples turned in surprise.

They saw the current Human Sovereign standing at the summit, his face twisted with emotion—

As if he had discovered that someone he respected had committed an unforgivable crime.

As if he was forced to kill them.

“Old Buddha, tell me…

How did you become an immortal?”

Jiang Li’s voice trembled.

He had reached the peak of Mount Sumeru.

But he had not seen a True Buddha.

He had only seen a Buddha who ate people.