You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

After listening, Chan Kong did not refute.

A familiar, irritating smile appeared on his paler face, but this time, a hint of seriousness lurked beneath it.

"Please leave quickly, sir," he said. "I'll cover your retreat. After all, I'm the one who brought this trouble upon you."

As he spoke, golden light emanated from his body. Although the golden light was unstable, he was still prepared to fight with all his might!

All phenomena are empty, which is life and death; what is there that cannot be seen through?

His encounter with Qi Fei during his escape was not a case of shifting blame, but a genuine accident.

That's why he said, "Fate is a wonderful thing."

From beginning to end, it's all empty!

Qi Fei sighed inwardly as he looked at Chan Kong, who seemed determined to fight to the death.

He didn't have any grand pronouncements to make; he simply asked the "sword" in his heart, "Do you have any methods to defeat the enemy?"

The sword said, "I am a conscious sword. Your magic power is insufficient; you cannot use a sword."

Qi Fei almost laughed out of anger: "With magic power, would I still need you?"

As he spoke, he watched the golden light on Zen Kong's body burn brighter and brighter, preparing to slip away.

The cultivator in front of him was simply overwhelming him with his magical power.

He didn't have a method to prove the Dao. He could only rely on "Shadow Detection" and "Dao Name Sword" to crush Zhu Yixin's pseudo-method. But against a true senior cultivator like him, the gap was too obvious.

In terms of cultivation level, he was merely a cultivator at the True Observation Realm.

Just as he was about to run away, suddenly, Zen Kong stopped moving.

Not only did he stop moving, but the cultivators from the Five Cauldrons Sect opposite him also stopped moving.

The two people were held down simultaneously by something unseen, frozen in place, completely still.

Then, a soft chime rang out between heaven and earth.

The bell's sound was faint, initially seeming to drift from a very, very far place, as thin as a spider's thread, as if it would break with a gust of wind.

Before Qi Fei could figure out what was going on, the sound of the bell grew louder and louder, until it was as if someone had struck a bronze bell in his head, as if thunder had rolled over his head, making every bone in his body tremble.

He wanted to resist.

But the sound of the bell, from "appearance" to "reality," from the heart to reality, truly exists; it cannot be stopped or avoided!

In a daze, he arrived at a strange place.

Above him was a rainbow-like sky, but it seemed so low that he felt he could touch the flowing, iridescent halo if he just stood on tiptoe and stretched out his hand.

The golden city was not far away, glittering and exquisite, like a model in the hands of a craftsman.

No, it's not a model!

The brick seams in the city wall, the steps in front of the city gate, the tiny figures of people in the city—every detail was so real.

That was clearly a real city, only it was too small, so small that it looked like it had been pinched out with a thumb and forefinger.

No, it's not that the city is small, it's that it's too big.

He stood between heaven and earth, like a mountain standing in a basin, appearing crowded everywhere.

The sky wasn't high enough, the land wasn't wide enough, and even the rainbow looked like a scarf draped over his shoulders, swaying gently.

He was surrounded by a silvery-white light, which was not dazzling but spread out steadily, rivaling the golden light that filled the space, neither giving way to the other.

Those butterfly-like sprites were the first to discover him.

They flew up from the flower's heart, their wings scattering fine gold dust, fluttering as they flew towards him.

But he was so tall that they flew and flew for a long time before they could reach his knees. Then they climbed up his robes like a group of golden ants climbing a big tree.

"Sage! Sage!" they cried out. "You're too tall! Could you please sit down? We can't reach you!"

Qi Fei sat down.

With him sitting down, the world finally felt more balanced.

The sprites took flight in a flurry, forming a golden mist that circled his head, shoulders, and arms, chattering excitedly as they went:

"Wise one, wise one, you are amazing! You are so big! How can you be so big!"

Qi Fei remained silent.

He had already realized that this was a spiritual space.

Here, the competition isn't about magical power, or who has more abundant spiritual energy or more ferocious moves, but about one's realm of understanding and cultivation of character.

A faint light suddenly appeared beside him, like a firefly drifting out from the darkness.

Upon closer inspection, Qi Fei realized that it wasn't a firefly, but a Zen bird. In his eyes, the Zen bird, glowing with golden light and about the size of a soybean, floated over and landed in his outstretched palm.

Zenkong stood on his palm, tilting his bald head back, staring at him for a long while before finally managing to utter a sentence:

"Sir, you are quite large."

"There's nothing we can do about it, it's just how we are!" Qi Fei said.

Zenkong stood in his palm, looked up at him for a while, and then shook his head helplessly: "Benefactor, what you said... doesn't seem to mean that."

Qi Fei didn't respond to that question. Instead, he looked around and asked, "Where is this?"

Before Zenkong could even speak, the elves had already chattered and rushed to answer.

"This is Alaya!"

"It is the 'great wisdom' of all beings!"

"It is also the place where all beings can see Amala!"

Qi Fei said "Oh". He remembered that he had discussed Alaya and Amala with a beggar a few days ago. Surely he wasn't the one who caused this?

Before he could think it through, the elves started making a ruckus again.

"Wise one, wise one, you are so big!"

"Do you have any way to teach us?"

"We also aspire to be as great as the sages! As great as the mountains! As vast as the sky!"

They became more and more excited as they talked, and their stories became increasingly outrageous, scattering golden powder everywhere, like a golden mist.

Qi Fei looked down at the Zen Void in his palm.

He glanced again at the tiny, dust-like spirits, and then at the ant-sized figures in every corner of this strange space.

Some of them were standing, some were sitting, some were walking, and some were in a daze, but no matter what they were doing, they were all looking up at him, the silver giant who had descended from the sky.

There was surprise, curiosity, and awe in his eyes.

Qi Fei thought for a moment, pondered for a while, and then said, "Then let me tell you what my understanding of the law is."

"My method is very simple, consisting of only four principles: materialism, dialectics, contradiction, and practice."

Dialectics is not hard to understand. To put it simply, it is the left, it is the right, it is black, it is white, it is this, it is that.

In the end, you can always get the gist of it.

But "materialism" is different.

The fairies stopped flying; their wings hovered in mid-air, and golden dust still clung to the tips of their fans, about to fall.

The ant-sized figures froze, standing still with their heads tilted back, mouths slightly open, and faces bearing the same expression.

An expression of not understanding.

Especially Zen emptiness.

He stood in Qi Fei's palm, frowning.

He was from Chanxin Temple, and he practiced the concept of "emptiness of all phenomena," believing that all things are created by the mind and manifested by consciousness.

The wind moves, the flag flutters; it is only the mind that is moved.