Nightfall

Suddenly the wind blew hard and the snow sheeted down in the night forest. However, the seemingly light and thin snowflake was not blown away by the roaring wind, nor did it gradually disappear inside the dense snow. Instead, the arrogant and lonely snowflake slowly fell from the sky, regardless of the strong wind and other snowflakes, eventually staying over one of the Third Minister of Offerings’ shoulders.

Trapped by the monk’s Emblematic Gesture, the Third Minister of Offerings who sat cross-legged in the snow, could not move at all. He watched the snowflake falling on his shoulder, feeling confused.

When the thin snowflake fell, the monk stopped walking toward the lake bank with his sandals deeply sunk in the thick snow, and he turned back, watching the snowflake silently.

Suddenly there was a sluggish noise in the forest, which sounded like pieces of ice abrading against each other. Accompanied by the wind and snow, it obviously sounded desolate like wailing cicadas.

The cicada was a kind of a summer creature, and it was silent in the autumn wind.

In context, the cold cicada represented silence.

However, even though the cold wind and snow were strong tonight, it seemed that countless cicadas had appeared in the forest.

Those cicadas hid behind branches, concealed themselves in tilted barks, hung between cobwebs and sat in the snow. They watched the falling snow, the monk, while chirping wantonly.

Cicadas made noises constantly.

Cicadas could be seen everywhere in the forest.

The forest became crowded with the increasingly piercing sound of cicadas. The thick snow accumulating on the branches was shaken by it. However, there seemed to be two cicada wings over the forest, big and invisible, enveloping the entire sky without any trace of their buzzing extending outside the forest.

The fierce calling was colder than snow and more elusive than the night wind. They rang, returned to silence and then revived in all directions, and finally landed in the ears of the monk.

The buzzing in the forest seemed to say indifferently, “Repent and be saved.”

Hearing those increasingly piercing cries, the monk looked graver.

He was called Qi Nian.

Coming from the Xuankong Temple, he was a powerful World Wayfarer of the Buddhism Sect.

Because of the records on the temple’s scroll, he came to Chang’an to see the legendary Son of Yama, and he even was ready to kill him even if he had to face the Academy.

Since he practiced Silent Meditation, his heart had become more and more determined, and so had his mind. Not even combining the countless strongmen in Chang’an and the Academy in the south of the city could his mind be moved.

Logically speaking, no sound could stop him from walking forward.

But these buzzes were different.

Because he was clearly aware that the buzzes represented a person.

It was the most mysterious or even the most terrible person in the world.

Not to mention him, even if the preach chief monk of the Xuankong Temple heard these buzzes, he would have to treat them seriously.

Qi Nian’s expression was grave even with a kind of respect for his predecessors, but he still looked determined. He pointed at the Yanming Lake behind him.

He told the person behind those buzzes that his destination was over there.

Although the Third Minister of Offerings was trapped by the snow and could not move at all, he could watch the thin snowflake and hear the piercing sound. His face became increasingly pale and his eyes were filled with fear.

He was a Grand Cultivator of the Knowing destiny State, who found lots of secrets about the world of cultivation in the Library of the Qinghe County. Although he was not sure, he vaguely guessed the identity of the man in the forest.

The person who could trigger such buzzing sounds and make a Bhadanta of the Xuankong Temple become serious, it obviously turned out to be the most mysterious headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine, Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation.

After the destruction of the Front Gate of the Devil’s Doctrine years ago, the forces which once set off turmoil in the world had fallen, but no one dared to ignore the contemporary headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine.

In many years, no one had ever seen him or heard any news about him; he finally became the most mysterious legend in the cultivation world.

There were rumors that the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine had turned into a pile of bones due to excessive practice of Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation, and also it was said that he hid himself somewhere but kept an eye on this world indifferently, ready to appear at any time to once again bid wind and rain to come.

In any case, nobody in the cultivation world could forget him, including those who believed that he had died. People were scared even in their dreams, as they always thought that the suzerain would reappear in front of everyone at the least expected moment.

And this was indeed a moment that no one could have imagined.

At least it was a moment beyond the Third Minister of Offerings’ imagination.

Before the battle between Ning Que and General Xia Hou, World Wayfarers of Buddhism and Taoism came to Chang’an, and Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation reappeared in the world unexpectedly.

Third Minister of Offerings was terrified, but he turned his eyeballs subconsciously when he thought that he might find a chance to escape while the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine and the Bhadanta of Xuankong Temple were fighting.

With his eyes moving slightly, he saw the thin snowflake on his shoulder.

And then he remembered that he had forgotten some of the stories of legend.

It was said that the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine did not kill many people as he disdained butchering ordinary people. He thought that only Grand Cultivators from the Knowing Destiny State were worth being killed by him.

It was said that the reason why he was the most mysterious person in the world was that he would kill all the people who had heard the wail of the cicadas.

The Third Minister of Offerings who was on the Knowing destiny State did hear it tonight.

No sooner did the Third Minister of Offerings understand the reality that he died.

That piece of thin snowflake, as if spreading its wings, gently wedged into his old neck.

The blood splattering out of his neck, slammed into the blizzard, hissing.

Like the wail of the cicadas.

The wail of the cicadas was the result of shaking their wings. They could shake hundreds of thousands of times to impact people’s emotions with different sounds.

The sound of the splattering blood was a result of the frictional vibration between the blood and the wound, which was similar to that of cicadas. Both sounds could be very similarly grieving.

The monk turned back to look at the dead Third Minister of Offerings sitting in the thick snow. He frowned and knew that it was a warning from the man in the forest.

He was a Buddhist disciple who could kill people but was unwilling to do so. Thus he just trapped the Minister of Offerings with an Emblematic Gesture. But it was beyond his expectation that he had become an accomplice to the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine.

The monk knew why the Twenty-Three-year Cicada reappeared and why he prevented him from walking toward Yanming Lake by the wail of cicadas.

Because Xia Hou was a traitor to the Devil’s Doctrine, bound to be killed by Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation.

There would be nothing if the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine had died, but he would definitely kill Xia Hou or watch him die since he was still alive.

For the sake of the Academy and the Tang court, he had been forbearing for many years. How could he let others touch this matter since the Academy was determined to kill Xia Hou.

Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation might be afraid of the Headmaster of the Academy.

But he would never fear the Xuankong Temple or the Zhishou Abbey.

Although the mute monk understood the intention of the wail, it did not mean that he could accept it.

The Buddhism Sect had always been regarded as an outer sect by Haotian Taoism, but it belonged to main sects after all. Although he knew that the headmaster of the Devil’s Doctrine was extremely strong, he would not stop for he was determined.

He was Qi Nian, the successor of the Xuankong Temple.

He began to feel angry.

Not arrogantly nor indignantly.

The monk still closed his mouth tightly, with his eyes filled with determination and his hand moving quickly before his robe. Within a moment, the monk formed a piercing Emblematic Gesture.

It was the most powerful and brightest Invariant Ming King Gesture among the Emblematic Gestures of the Buddhism Sect.

Those two ordinary-looking hands before the old kasaya, with fingers separately pointing upwards, formed a strong aura spreading out to the forest in all directions.

Silently, all the accumulated snow in the forest sharply flew to the sky, and suddenly the wind and snow in the sky were shaken and became stagnant.

The wail that could be heard everywhere in the night forest suddenly stopped.

However, after a short while, the buzzes resumed, becoming more clear and piercing than before.

It sounded like someone was laughing loudly.

The wind blew harder and the snow fell more sharply in the forest. The ground was again filled with snow and the falling snow shot straight to Qi Nian.

Qi Nian looked the same, standing slightly in the snow with his sandals. He hit his left knee with his right leg, naturally sitting in the snow on a half snow lotus plate.

Those piercing snowflakes like thousands of cicadas hit Qi Nian cruelly.

There seemed to be an invisible barrier on the surface of Qi Nian’s body.

Those snowflakes could no longer move forward when they were half an inch away from him. They stopped in the sky and stuck to his outer body like cotton.

In a flash, his kasaya was totally covered with snow only with his head and hands outside, and he looked like a snowman.

Looking into the deep night forest and feeling the cold frost on his eyelashes, Qi Nian hesitated to say something with his cheeks twitching slightly.

After fifteen years’ practice of Silent Meditation, would he finally start to speak tonight?

Yet, at this moment.

A voice suddenly rang in the deep forest.

The sound was very quiet.

Thus, there was a sharp contrast to the piercing wail in the forest.

However, in such a quiet voice, the content was cold.

“If you speak, I will make tens of thousands of people in the world become dumb.”

Hearing this remark, the monk became extremely furious, looking into the deep forest with his eyes wide open, and both the cold frost on his eyelashes and the accumulated snow on his body were melted into warm water.

He understood that even if he spoke tonight, he would still be unable to defeat that man. However, the man would definitely set off a bloody storm in the world, if he did so.

If he faced Mr. First, Mr. Second, or even the Headmaster of the Academy, he could ignore the warning because he was clearly aware of their decency.

But the man was Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation.

He could do anything.

Angry as he was, he could not speak.

The man in the deep forest kept silent after saying those words, but Qi Nian knew that he was still there as the wail of the cicadas continued.

The monk could not sigh as he could not speak. He could only silently sigh in his heart, decomposing the Invariant Ming King Gesture and slowly closing his eyes with his palms put together.

The snow continued to fall sharply like cicadas, covering the monk including his head, thus the successor of the Xuankong Temple became a snowman overnight in the forest.

The snow that had been falling for an entire day suddenly eased up.

The wail of the cicadas became weaker but sadder.

Cicadas cried mournfully.

The heavy snow gradually stopped in the lake that night.