I Don’t Believe the World Holds White-Haired Ones, Part 3

Yun Yao never imagined that the one about to be struck by Fantian Temple’s divine thunder wasn’t her—the culprit who nearly toppled the temple four hundred years ago—but the utterly innocent Lord Hanyuan by her side.

Equally shocked was the young monk leading the way ahead of her.

The thunder came abruptly. Mu Hanyuan dodged, the purple-black arc grazing his sleeve, scorching a dark mark on the snow-white hem.
His veiled hat wasn’t so lucky, caught by a thunder arc and torn off, revealing the face renowned across the world as an exiled immortal.

“Lord Hanyuan?!” the young monk exclaimed.

Yun Yao had no time to hush him.
Triggered by the temple’s jade lions, the twelve jade steps they’d crossed began to rise with a deafening roar and blinding Buddhist golden light.
Chants echoed from near and far, rolling like a tidal wave from the horizon. In the void, a golden Arhat formation materialized, its chants and faith forming a golden dome, as if to subdue the defiant.

This was Fantian Temple’s Twelve Heavenly Gates Arhat Formation, which Yun Yao had once forcefully breached.

Having experienced it, she knew how formidable this ancient temple’s protective array was. Had her swordsmanship not been exceptional back then, with Fifth Senior Brother aiding her in secret, she might not have even seen the bald donkey.

The old resentment toward this temple flared again. With a wave, Yun Yao summoned her wooden sword to her side.
At the same time, her irritated transmission shot toward the two jade lions rising into the array. “Lion One, Lion Two! Your bad eyesight still hasn’t been fixed after four hundred years, has it?!”

The two lions, facing the array with their backs to the temple gate, froze at her voice, exchanging a glance.
The smaller lion on the left showed a distinctly human-like fear in its eyes.
The one on the right wasn’t much better.

“Brother, that ancestor’s back. Do we still fight?”
“How do we explain to Fantian if we don’t?”
“What if we get beaten again?”
“Sigh…”

As the two lions wavered between “defending dignity” and “fleeing like rats,” a Buddhist chant descended, resounding through the golden array.

“Amitabha. Please, Benefactor Yun, show mercy.”

“…”

Yun Yao didn’t immediately lower her sword. Only after seeing the two lions slink back as streams of light to their jade pedestals at the temple gate did she sheathe her weapon.

The three young monks stood respectfully in a row, bowing to the newcomer. “Master Ancestor.”

“…”

Yun Yao’s eyelids twitched as she was about to check on Mu Hanyuan.

Master Ancestor?
In today’s Qianyuan Realm, that title could be grand or minor, depending on the generation. Was this someone who knew her or not?

The damned bald monk, the only one who could clarify, was inconveniently unconscious.

Grumbling inwardly, Yun Yao kept her composure, mimicking a respectful bow. “I didn’t expect the temple’s guardian lions to be so fierce. Thanks to the master for intervening.”

Her words deftly sidestepped her earlier shout of “Lion One, Lion Two.”

The “Master Ancestor” of Fantian Temple lingered on her for a long moment.
Even without meeting his gaze, Yun Yao sensed the complex emotions, making her feel guiltier. She kept her eyes down.
After a few breaths, the monk said softly, “Benefactor Yun, it’s been a long time.”

Yun Yao: “…”
Bad news—she was known.

Thankfully, the monk was gracious, not dwelling on old times. He instructed the young monks to take the unconscious Liaowu to his meditation chamber, then lifted his robe, gesturing to Yun Yao. “Benefactor Yun, please.”

Yun Yao hesitated. “Master, a moment.”
She turned to Mu Hanyuan.

Perhaps shaken by the temple’s thunder, Mu Hanyuan hadn’t moved since, his long lashes half-lowered, masking his emotions, his face frosted with a deeper chill.

“What’s wrong? Upset?” Yun Yao leaned closer, whispering.

Mu Hanyuan’s figure trembled, as if waking from his sea of consciousness. His voice was hoarse via transmission. “Master.”

The phrase “Demon of Heaven’s Wrath” rang as thunder to others, but only he heard its true warning.
It felt like…
A secret of heaven not to be revealed.

He couldn’t help but look at Yun Yao, seeing her innocent confusion. She hadn’t heard it.

If she had…
What would her reaction be?

Mu Hanyuan lowered his gaze, shadows falling like lashes across his eyes.
There, unseen by all, lay a dagger of light.

Yun Yao, thinking he was brooding over the incident, quickly reassured him. “Don’t mind those silly lions. One’s half-blind, the other’s brainless. They probably meant to strike me and missed.”

Her words were unabashed, loud enough for all to hear.

The monk, with his profound cultivation, remained unmoved, his face compassionate. The young monk sweeping nearby wasn’t so composed, coughing in shock and nearly dropping his broom.

Mu Hanyuan, coming to, gave a helpless smile, his voice low and warm. “This is Fantian Temple, the foremost Buddhist sanctuary. Mind your words.”

Yun Yao, thinking he doubted her, switched to transmission. “I’m serious. This temple’s something, but their lions are still dumb and blind. Last time I came, Lion Two even rubbed my leg, calling me master… It’s lived longer than me, yet it’s shameless.”

Mu Hanyuan paused, looking at her.

Unfortunately, Yun Yao didn’t notice. Just then, the monk interjected casually, “May I ask why Liaowu sealed his soul?”

Hearing the monk’s address for Liaowu, a spark flashed in Yun Yao’s mind. She turned hesitantly. “Are you… the high monk Liaowu mentioned, who never leaves Fantian Temple or Tianyuan Mountain?”

“This humble monk stays for reasons of karma, not daring to claim high monk status,” the monk said humbly. “This isn’t a place for talk. Please, Benefactor Yun, join me in the meditation chamber.”

“…Alright, as you say.”

Yun Yao shot Mu Hanyuan a glance before following.

The monk’s chamber lay at the temple’s northernmost end, nestled in a vast, verdant bamboo grove.

On the way, Yun Yao confirmed the monk’s identity—he was indeed the high monk Liaowu said could seal her Flame of Finality. Relieved, she recounted everything: the secrets of Dragon Burial Valley, Liaowu’s ambush by True Dragon Yuyan, leading to his soul-sealing to suppress the ghost prison. She mentioned the black mist figures, probing for insight, but intentionally omitted the third who aided them.

Regrettably, the monk seemed unaware of the black mist’s evil spell origins.

“Liaowu is at the Insight Realm, or Unity Realm outside Buddhist terms,” the monk said after Yun Yao sat on a cushion. “As for His Majesty the True Dragon, even with great cultivation, he remains in this realm, not yet breaking Heaven’s Gate—Transcendent at most. He couldn’t cast a soul-veiling spell on Liaowu from afar.”

Yun Yao’s eyes flickered. “You mean Liaowu and Yuyan have met?”

“Indeed, Benefactor.”

“…That doesn’t help find the dragon,” Yun Yao sighed after a moment. “It was the Immortal Alliance’s council. Nearly every major and minor immortal sect was there. Liaowu met hundreds, if not thousands, of cultivators—not to mention a donkey. Finding a dragon skilled in soul concealment is like searching for a needle in the sea.”

“No need to rush. If this True Dragon seeks to achieve something, he can’t hide forever. Sooner or later, he’ll show himself.”

“…”

The monk’s fearless demeanor gave Yun Yao a headache.
Muttering inwardly about “easy for you to say,” she kept a smile. “You’re right. Speaking of the dragon’s traces, I need your help with something.”

“Fantian Temple doesn’t meddle in mortal affairs.”

The monk hesitated.
But seeing Yun Yao’s barely restrained impatience, he relented with a sigh. “However, you’ve done the temple a kindness. Speak plainly.”

“Me? A kindness to you?”

Yun Yao wasn’t sure if she’d misheard.
What kindness?
“Renovating” the temple’s main gate four hundred years ago, helping them “rebuild”?

The monk only nodded, saying nothing.

Yun Yao, not one to undermine herself, went along. “With Yuyan’s ambush crippling Liaowu and distracting Mu Hanyuan and me, followed by the black mist figures’ perfectly timed attack—if you say there’s no connection, just coincidence, I absolutely don’t believe it.”

“Your reasoning is sound,” the monk said calmly. “What do you need from this humble monk?”

“I’ve thought it over. There are only two possibilities. Either the black mist figures are Yuyan’s people, fully in the know, or they’re cooperating with him for some gain, unaware of his true identity or purpose.”

Yun Yao turned to Mu Hanyuan, standing under the eaves. “Which do you think?”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan, lost in the mountain scenery, paused before answering. “Unity Realm isn’t easily achieved. Given the needs of the bone dragon city in Dragon Burial Valley, the True Dragon hasn’t been awake long enough to cultivate a group of Unity Realm followers.”

“I agree—cooperation is more likely,” Yun Yao said to the monk. “As a Buddhist sanctuary with great prestige in Qianyuan, please send a message to the immortal sects, a warning.”

“What words?”

“A demonic calamity has arisen among the immortal sects.”

“…”

The monk pondered long before agreeing.

Mu Hanyuan joined Yun Yao, pouring her tea. “Master aims to stir the tiger by shaking the mountain?”

“To resolve my… cultivation issue, we’ll need time in the temple,” Yun Yao said. “If they act while I’m not out there, what then? This is the only way. With everyone on edge, countless eyes watching, they’ll have to tread carefully.”

Thinking of the Flame of Finality’s seal, Yun Yao grew serious.
She looked at the monk. “Liaowu must’ve mentioned my issue. How will you proceed?”

“Your calamity can only be resolved by entering the tower.”

“The tower?” Yun Yao vaguely recalled something. “Liaowu said you never leave the temple because you guard a tower.”

“Correct. The tower I guard is called Fantian, also the Tower of Reincarnation,” the monk said, his eyes deep as eternity, like ancient chimes echoing from afar. “Only through reincarnation can evil karma be undone.”

“…”

The chime-like sound inexplicably stirred panic in Yun Yao’s heart.
As if veiled in mist, something terrifying, long buried, something she refused to recall, was on the verge of surfacing.
She blinked, suppressing the strange feeling.

“When can I enter?” Yun Yao asked, her voice inexplicably hoarse.

The monk stared unblinkingly. “Are you certain you want to enter?”

Yun Yao laughed wryly. “If I weren’t, why trek to Tianyuan Mountain?”

“I know you enter to avert calamity for all beings, but you must understand: reincarnation carries its own fate. Today’s solution may bring unknown consequences tomorrow.”

“…”

Yun Yao paused, then smiled. “Could it be worse than this?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Yun Yao’s expression didn’t waver. “No. I believe man conquers heaven.”

“This humble monk believes heaven’s will is hard to defy. Beginnings and endings, cause and effect, are fated. Even if you escape today, how do you know disaster won’t return in another form, worse than before?”

“…”

Yun Yao’s emotions churned fiercely.
Uncontrollably, she recalled the surreal dream in Fuyu Palace’s annex and the black-and-white figures she saw in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes the night his sword emerged.
Like inescapable nightmares, etched across time and space, they haunted her soul.

As she frowned, struggling, a snow-white robe with gold-trimmed sleeves draped over hers on the cushion beside her.

Yun Yao turned, meeting Mu Hanyuan’s eyes—clear as distant lakes, their coldness softened by his gentle gaze.
“Don’t overthink, Master. Do what you wish.”
“Leave tomorrow’s matters to tomorrow.”
He whispered, “No matter the outcome—beginning or end—I’ll be by your side.”

“Alright.”

Yun Yao’s resolve hardened. With determination, she faced the monk. “I’ll enter the tower.”

“Amitabha.”
The monk chanted, his long brows lowering, slowly fingering his prayer beads.

Yun Yao, growing impatient, waved her hand before him. “…Master, where’s the tower?”

He lifted his eyelids slowly. “On the full moon, the Tower of Reincarnation appears.”

Yun Yao: “…”
All that emotion, wasted?

With a favor to ask, she held her tongue.
The full moon was only three to five days away—she could wait.
Calming herself, she said, “We’ll trouble the temple for a few days.”

“Benefactor Yun is too polite.”

The monk’s attitude seemed to cool suddenly, though Yun Yao couldn’t tell if it was from Mu Hanyuan sitting beside her or her insistence on entering the tower.

But in a Buddhist sanctuary, clinging too closely was improper.
So Yun Yao deliberately lagged two steps behind Mu Hanyuan.

At the bamboo chamber’s eaves, she remembered something and turned back. “The monk… Master Liaowu, how is he?”

“The temple’s monks are aiding the Buddha in suppressing the ghost prison. Within ten days, his soul will be unsealed. No need to worry.”

“…Oh.”
Yun Yao descended the steps.
The sunlight cast her shadow long across the stone path, her gaze lingering on the wooden hairpin binding her hair.

The red-clad girl paused, touching the warm wooden hairpin.

As the breeze rustled the bamboo, her shadow appeared again under the eaves.

The monk wasn’t surprised by her return, only asking, “Does Benefactor Yun have more to say?”

“Liaowu’s Ghost Body Buddha practice—is it unavoidable?” Before he could turn, Yun Yao cut in. “I’m not meddling in your disciple’s practice. It’s just that he was entrusted to me by an old friend. If something happens to him, how do I face my senior sister in the underworld?”

The monk was silent for a long time before saying, “Like you, it was Liaowu’s choice.”

“Like me?” Yun Yao was baffled. “How so?”

The monk sighed, facing her. “Four hundred years ago, the Red Dust Buddha refused to sever worldly ties or emotions. To guide him to Buddhism, the temple’s abbot exhausted his life’s cultivation to open his Reincarnation Eye.”

Yun Yao froze.
She knew Liaowu had the Reincarnation Eye to see past and future lives, but not its timing.

“What’s the use if he wouldn’t convert…?”

She paused, her expression grave. “What did he see the first time he used it?”

The monk said slowly, “He saw your Third Senior Sister, Xiu Xin. In her past life, she bore a blood debt, her sins vast as the sea. This life, she was fated to wander, suffer the pains of human emotions, and die violently. Destined for a short life, not past twenty, with no redemption or next life due to her past sins.”

“Impossible!” Yun Yao’s voice was sharp. “My senior sister died for the immortal realm at Twin Realms Mountain, living past one hundred twenty. How could she be short-lived…?”

Her words halted.
The wooden hairpin on her red robes trembled.

Yun Yao remembered.

The year the Red Dust Buddha severed ties and joined Buddhism, Xiu Xin was just nineteen, the immortal realm’s most renowned young prodigy.

The monk, as if unseeing, continued calmly, “She was meant to die young.”
“Unless the Red Dust Buddha became a monk, practicing Ghost Body Buddha, risking soul dissipation for a century. From the day he succeeded, he had to enter the ghost prison nightly, enduring a hundred ghosts devouring his soul, flames scorching his spirit, to redeem her blood debts.”

“Even so, it only extended her life by a hundred years.”

“Benefactor Yun, you wish to enter the Reincarnation Tower to defy fate, don’t you? They are your cautionary tale with the Flame of Finality.”