Newly Entering the Spiritual Void 15. Shaving One’s Head and Becoming a Monk!

Master Tianxin, suppressing his grief, stepped forward and spoke slowly to the man in black, “Let me face you myself.” With that, Master Tianxin summoned his energy, and the muscles across his body began to swell gradually.

“Come then!” Master Tianxin shouted angrily. The man in black put away his golden pen, thrust out his right hand, striking Master Tianxin’s shoulder, and then retracted it just as swiftly—all within the span of a single breath.

Master Tianxin took the blow but did not fall. Just as everyone believed he had withstood the attack, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, sighed, and collapsed to the ground.

Seeing Master Tianxin fall, his fate uncertain, all the monks of Famen Temple were filled with dread. Now, unless Abbot Tianhong himself stepped forward, there was little hope; yet Tianhong was still recovering his vital energy in his meditation chamber, and his condition remained unknown.

The man in black cast a cold gaze at the remaining senior monks and then wrote on his jade tablet, “Is there anyone else who wishes to try my techniques?” This time, no one answered.

After all, if even Master Tianxin could not withstand the man in black’s attack, the others stood even less chance. At that moment, Moda suddenly stepped forward and said to the man in black, “I am not skilled, but I am willing to try your methods!”

Abbot Tianhong had saved Moda, and the monks of Famen Temple had helped him time and again. Now that the temple was in peril, Moda could not stand idly by. The man in black was surprised to see a young man step forward.

He picked up his golden pen and wrote on the jade tablet, “I am here today only to kill the bald monks of Famen Temple; unrelated persons should stand aside.” Upon reading this, Moda immediately drew a short blade from his waist and said, “Then today, I shall become a monk of Famen Temple!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Moda shaved his head with the blade, and a clump of hair fell to the ground. Master Tiantai, seeing Moda shave his own head, placed a hand before his chest and chanted Amitabha.

The surrounding monks were moved by Moda’s action, and the air filled with the sound of Amitabha. The man in black had not expected the young man before him to shave his head and become a monk for the temple’s sake.

He wrote on his tablet, “Why risk your life for a monastery?” Moda replied firmly, “Famen Temple saved my life. Now that the temple is in trouble, both sentiment and principle demand I stand up!” His words echoed with conviction, and all who saw him felt a newfound respect.

Moda put down his blade, and Famen Temple gained another bald monk. He spread his spiritual energy across his body, tensed his muscles, and formed a spiritual shield in front of him.

Everything ready, Moda said to the man in black, “Please make your move.” His face showed the resolve to face death without fear. The man in black wrote again, “Are you sure?”

Moda nodded, his expression resolute. “I am sure. Do your worst!” The man in black stopped writing, put away his pen, and approached. He looked into Moda’s eyes and pointed at him.

The gesture seemed light, yet was imbued with immense force. Though the spiritual shield absorbed some of it, the finger pierced through, striking Moda’s chest. Despite his taut muscles, the energy penetrated his skin and entered his body.

The man in black withdrew and watched Moda coldly. Moda felt a ceaseless stream of vital energy fill his body; had he not protected himself with spiritual energy, this force would have shattered his organs and killed him.

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Inside his body, vital energy and spiritual energy clashed and entangled. Though his spiritual energy was greater than before, the vital energy was strange and domineering. Moda’s spiritual energy was soon depleted.

Even though much of the vital energy had been consumed in the struggle, the remainder suddenly surged toward Moda’s meridians. He felt as though countless blades were cutting into him, slicing his veins apart.

Enduring the agony, Moda said to the man in black, “I have withstood your attack. Should you not spare all in this temple?” The man in black did not speak, but wrote another line on his jade tablet.

He raised the tablet, revealing the words: “I know you’re only holding out, but for your youthful loyalty, I’ll spare Famen Temple today.” With that, the man in black left the temple.

Moda could no longer hold back and spat out a mouthful of blood. The man in black’s vital energy was too fierce; without the spiritual energy to absorb some of it, Moda would have died on the spot. Even so, he was gravely wounded.

Disciples of Famen Temple hurried to support Moda and the injured senior monks to the meditation chamber. Abbot Tianhong had mostly recovered by now; seeing Moda and his fellow monks so badly wounded, he sighed deeply.

Master Tiantai had lost an arm, but was fortunate to be alive. Yet Abbot Tianhong did not see Masters Tianxin and Tianwen among the wounded and felt puzzled, so he asked a young monk nearby, “Why are your uncles Tianxin and Tianwen not here?”

The novice quickly recounted the events in the temple, and Abbot Tianhong staggered, his face filled with sorrow. “Tianxin, Tianwen, my brothers!”

Moda, seeing the elderly monks in pain, felt sorrow himself. His own meridians were nearly all severed, but fortunately he was not in mortal danger—and he was born with a burning meridian, unable to cultivate anyway.

Abbot Tianhong, after a moment’s grief, regained his composure; after all, Moda and several others still required care. He examined Moda’s wounds and shook his head. The damage to his meridians was beyond his ability to heal.

“Little benefactor, your injuries are beyond my power to cure,” Abbot Tianhong sighed. “Master, do not worry. I could not cultivate to begin with, so broken meridians are of no consequence,” Moda replied with a forced smile.

Abbot Tianhong shook his head and moved on to Master Tianbao, who had survived but lost all his cultivation, reduced to an ordinary old man.

“Yuanhui, bring a Nine-Return Pill for the little benefactor and take him to rest,” Abbot Tianhong instructed. Yuanhui pressed his palms together in assent, retrieved the pill, and soon returned to escort Moda to the guest quarters.

Moda recuperated in Famen Temple for several days before bidding farewell to Abbot Tianhong and departing. During his stay, Moda was able to transform the vital energy left by the man in black into spiritual energy, absorbing it into his primordial spirit.

This unexpected gain thrilled him. If he could convert vital energy for his own use, he would no longer fear cultivators. But the process was slow and could not be used in combat.

Moda now needed to visit the Samwei Academy to ask Ma Nan about the Red Fragrance Courtyard affair. He could not let himself be framed without answers. Ma Nan was leisurely sipping tea in his room when someone informed him that Moda was seeking him.

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Ma Nan hurriedly got up from his chair, slipped on his shoes, and ran out. The sword cultivator from Jade Void Palace had not remembered Moda’s face, so the palace had not issued a warrant for his capture.

Ma Nan, unaware of Moda’s troubles, stepped out to greet him, but Moda strode up angrily and asked coldly, “Ma Nan, was it you who had me framed?”

Ma Nan was puzzled by Moda’s words. “Master Mo, what do you mean? I have always acted upright and would never frame anyone. Besides, I have never harbored ill will toward you; how could I have framed you?”

Ma Nan’s words were sincere. If not for the fact that only Ma Nan knew he was at the Red Fragrance Courtyard that night, Moda would have believed him. “But you were the only one who knew I was there. If it wasn’t you, who else could have done it?” Moda pressed.

Hearing this, Ma Nan recalled the murder at the Red Fragrance Courtyard a few days before, realizing that Moda had killed Nangong Wentian. He found himself admiring Moda—a man who couldn’t cultivate, yet managed to slay a sword cultivator in the innate realm.

Ma Nan said, “Master Mo, this isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Moda nodded. “Very well, but you’d better not deceive me.” “Rest assured, Master Mo, I will tell you everything I know!” Ma Nan wanted to pat Moda’s shoulder to show friendliness, but seeing Moda’s cold expression, he withdrew his hand.

The two went to a teahouse and ordered a private room. Once seated, Ma Nan spoke first. “Master Mo, what happened to your hair?” “You talk too much. Tell me what happened at the Red Fragrance Courtyard,” Moda snapped.

Ma Nan thought for a moment before asking, “Did you kill a sword cultivator from Jade Void Palace?” “Yes, I did. He tried to kill me, so I acted in self-defense,” Moda explained.

“That’s not important. Do you know why Jade Void Palace hasn’t issued a warrant for you?” Ma Nan smiled slightly. Moda shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t see my face clearly, or else why wouldn’t they pursue me?”

“Master Mo, others may not know, but I do. The girls at Red Fragrance Courtyard told the sword cultivator that I spoke with you there the previous night,” Ma Nan said, squinting.

Moda realized the truth. “So you covered for me?” “Exactly. I covered up the matter for you. But do you know whose idea it was behind all this?” Ma Nan continued, squinting at Moda.

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