The Unique Guardian Beast Master in Cultivation World - Chapter 382

Chapter 382: Chapter 241: Buddha’s child? Buddha’s father!

Translator: 549690339

Young, brimming with life, the willow branch swept through the air, a few dewdrops, crystal clear and glistening, fell from the tender green foliage. They finally landed on the pockmarked and severely damaged body.

The tiny dews erupted with a vibrant vitality that filled the surroundings. On that severely wrecked body that would make any physician shake their head, began to show signs of revival. The torn flesh and blood, the internal organs that had turned into a mess, the hardly intact bones, were all regenerating, healing, and reborn at this moment.

“Master…”

Hovering between life and death, being tormented again and again, Yinghai woke up in a daze from his comatose state. A wrinkled old monk with thick white brows that hung over his shoulder appeared in front of his eyes. This gave the disheartened monk a jolt of strength. His shattered Zen heart and collapsed will began to show signs of recovery.

“Yinghai, how do you feel?”

The old monk’s aging but robust voice resonated. His eyes, clear as a deep ancient well, quietly watched over his disciple’s woebegone guise.

“Master, this one…”

His wrecked body, covered with sores and wounds, had regained its former state thanks to the dewdrops, but Yinghai still felt juggling with a piercing pain similar to being sliced and chopped with a knife, it was the pain of his spirit.

But aside from the pain originating from his spirit, Yinghai could feel a wave of chilly gentleness spreading throughout his body. He knew it was the life-saving object that his master had begged from the King of Medicines, Avalokiteshvara, now it was being used on him.

“Shameful!”

The burly monk staggered to his feet. Beholding the old monk who had picked him up from the wilderness and nourished him to maturity, a wave of indescribable anguish and pain suddenly erupted.

Thump!

The nine-feet-tall monk knelt heavily on the ground, trembling ever so slightly. The subdued feelings ever since losing the battle for Buddha’s son’s inheritance were finally unleashed at this moment.

“Amitabha!”

The white-browed elderly monk beheld his disciple, who he had raised with his own hands, more frail and weak than ever. He chanted Buddha’s name in a low voice. Unlike the times when Yinghai was a child, he did not reprimand him. His deep eyes, like ancient wells, stared at his disciple.

“Foolish child, sigh.”

With a single sigh, he refrained from uttering too many words. Even though it was a brief encounter prior to this, seeing his familiar face, then his injuries, affirmed the elderly monk that his disciple had been through a lot.

The Seven-treasure Gold Crest that he had bestowed upon Yinghai for his journey was long gone. His spirit had been severely damaged, clearly someone had tried extracting an important inheritance from him.

“Relate to your master everything you’ve been through on your travels in the Nan Hua Continent.”

A moment later, the white-browed elderly monk finally spoke. He wanted to know what had transpired that might have caused his disciple to go through such misery.

“Yes.”

With forehead pressed against the ground, Yinghai slowly got up. Revisiting his familiar surroundings and reuniting with his beloved master again, his body and spirit involuntarily relaxed. Subsequently, he narrated his experiences during his travels in the Nan Hua Continent meticulously.

The white-browed elderly monk wore a neutral expression as he patiently listened to Yinghai’s experience. Even trivial matters were met with patience, patiently listened as Yinghai narrated his realizations.

Only when the old monk heard his disciple say that he met a boy resembling Buddha’s son did his snowy long eyebrows quiver. Even so, he did not interrupt.

Until Yinghai recounted how he had received the inheritance of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, taken it as dependence, peered at the boy once again, and tried to steer him back onto the path of righteousness did the old monk no longer remain composed. He couldn’t help but lower his head and chant Buddha’s name.

“Amitabha!”

“…this monk herein tried to coerce his spirit into undergoing the Six Paths of Reincarnation and have him cleansed of his mundane trappings through numerous cycles of rebirths. However, this monk realised that his true spirit couldn’t even make a dent on the boy’s spirit. At that moment, this monk realised that the young man was the reincarnation of the very Immortal Monarch that’s widely acknowledged…”

Yinghai poured out his heart like a child to his trusted elders, dissecting the hardships he had endured. Even now, he did not think that he had done anything wrong.

Even after recognising that Feng Qing’an was the widely acknowledged reincarnation of the Immortal Monarch in Da Jin, but what about it?

Powerful beings after reincarnating, due to the wrong choices they made, receive no appropriate guidance, and as a result, their true spirits remain ignorant until they regain their original status. There were numerous such precedents.

The white-browed elderly monk took out a string of prayer beads and quietly rotated it in his hand. He did not utter a single word.

This old monk never imagined that his disciple brought all this hardship upon himself. The other party even went as far as sparing him at one point, but he was so ungrateful that he went back to them and even tried to correct them according to his understanding. The end result was he got himself so terribly tormented.

From the looks of it, it was correct that he didn’t intervene just now, as this was clearly a case of him getting what he deserved. If it hadn’t been him raising the boy, he would have wanted to slap his disciple. Out of sheer indolence, he had entwined himself in such affairs.

Did he not weigh his abilities? Would the choices made by a reincarnated Immortal Monarch be up for him to criticize? He still wanted to help the other party rectify and return to the right path?

From the old monk’s perspective, it served his disciple right to be beaten. He was even fortunate that he wasn’t beaten to death, but merely had his spirit played around with. Considering he could heal it as his master, it was relatively mild.