I Truly Am The Villian Chapter 2212: 2211: Long Zhou Rescues His Wife, Senior Brother

“What plan do you possess?” Xu Zimei inquired.

“In truth, apart from myself, the Buddha Country holds another successor,” the Barefoot Monk revealed.

“That individual possesses superior talent and greater strength than I. Perhaps they have the capability to transmute these malevolent sentiments.”

“Then why are they not accompanying you at Cloud Interval Temple?” Xu Zimei questioned.

“Ah, every family contends with their own set of challenges,” the Barefoot Monk responded enigmatically.

“This person was, by birth, the Crown Prince of the Yinchang Kingdom, originating from a lineage of opulence and nobility.”

“Regrettably, the allure of worldly status did not appeal to him; his heart yearned for the monastic path, to forsake worldly entanglements.”

“At that juncture, the Buddha Lord recognized his resolute Daoist Heart and accepted him as a disciple.”

“Following the devastation of the Buddha Country, the two of us initially remained within this Cloud Interval Temple. However, circumstances shifted when the King of Yinchang Kingdom was struck by a grave illness, compelling him to return to his kingdom.”

“My expectation was a swift return, but to my astonishment, after that poignant farewell, our paths diverged, and I never encountered him again.”

“Were he still among the living, his cultivation base ought to be sufficient for such a transmutation.”

Upon absorbing the Barefoot Monk’s account, Xu Zimei fell into contemplation regarding the Yinchang Kingdom.

He posed the question, “Where precisely lies the Yinchang Kingdom? It seems I have never encountered mention of it.”

“The Yinchang Kingdom is but a minor realm, thus it is entirely plausible you have not heard of its existence,” the Barefoot Monk elucidated.

“Though I myself have not set foot there, I am acquainted with its geographical coordinates.”

“Traverse approximately one hundred kilometers north from Longxing City, and you shall discover the Yinchang Kingdom.”

“Time is of the essence; we must depart without delay.”

Xu Zimei offered a subtle nod and inquired, “What are your intentions concerning this Cloud Interval Temple?”

“I shall bequeath it as it stands. Let it serve as a memento,” the Barefoot Monk declared.

His gaze drifted towards the fractured Jade Buddha Statue.

A wry smile touched his lips as he confessed, “In retrospect, I concealed my true capabilities far too effectively in times past. Henceforth, I am resolved to devote my existence to the propagation of Buddhist teachings.”

“My sincere desire is to take this Jade Buddha Statue with me.”

Hearing the Barefoot Monk’s heartfelt request, Xu Zimei felt no particular surprise.

He inclined his head in agreement.

After all, this very Jade Buddha Statue, in a profound sense, symbolized the former Jade Mountain Buddha.

It represented the last lineage of the Buddha Lord of the Buddha Country.

For the Barefoot Monk, the Jade Mountain Buddha transcended the role of a mere mentor imparting wisdom and techniques.

He was akin to a paternal figure.

The Barefoot Monk, once an infant abandoned to the vagaries of the wilderness, had an unknown origin.

It was the Jade Mountain Buddha who had cradled him, nurtured him, and imparted the sacred Buddhist Law.

In this existence, one could only lament the ironies of fate, how destiny toys with mortals.

The Barefoot Monk frequently pondered if the trajectory of the Buddha Country might have been brighter had destiny reversed their fates, had he been the one to perish instead of the Jade Mountain Buddha.

Xu Zimei, on his part, placed paramount importance on the Barefoot Monk’s unwavering Daoist Heart.

Conversely, the Barefoot Monk harbored a deep sense of inadequacy.

He felt he had failed to honor his mentor’s sacred teachings. Had Xu Zimei not materialized, he might have continued to languish, squandering precious time, and ultimately succumbed to age burdened by profound regret.

He moved forward, his movements gentle and deliberate, endeavoring to meticulously cleanse the fragmented Buddha Statue.

Though these Buddha Statues were aged and weathered, their gilded paint flaking away with time.

A mere touch seemed sufficient to send them crumbling into dust.

With utmost care, the Barefoot Monk secreted each fragment of the fractured Jade Buddha Statue into his spatial repository.

Precisely at this moment, the distinct sound of approaching footsteps resounded from the exterior.

“Is anyone present? Has the revered monk arrived?”

A clear, resonant voice called out.

This unexpected announcement stirred the Barefoot Monk, who rarely received visitors at the secluded Cloud Interval Temple.

How extraordinary that multiple individuals should arrive in succession on this particular day!

Xu Zimei also shifted his gaze upwards, observing the unfolding scene.

A contingent of individuals proceeded to enter the hallowed grounds of Cloud Interval Temple.

At the vanguard of this procession strode a man clad in austere black robes, his countenance grim and imposing.

Flanking him were a youthful man and a young woman radiating distinct energies.

Trailing behind them was a middle-aged man attired in opulent silken robes, his expression one of profound subservience.

Following in their wake, several attendants carefully bore a palanquin.

An immediate assessment revealed that the central figure was undeniably someone of considerable stature.

“Does the Barefoot Priest reside within these grounds?”

The sycophantic middle-aged man bellowed his query.

The man in black robes registered a slight furrowing of his brow.

From within the confines of the palanquin, the delicate sound of a woman’s cough emanated.

Moments later, the silken curtain of the palanquin was drawn aside.

A woman, possessing an undeniable aristocratic bearing yet marked by a pallid complexion, revealed herself.

She addressed the middle-aged man with evident displeasure, “Patriarch Meng, this is a sacred temple; such boisterous conduct is unbecoming.”

The middle-aged man, whose demeanor was characterized by an obsequious affectation, was identified as Meng Kun, the esteemed Patriarch of the Meng Family within Longxing City.

Within the dominion of Longxing City, the Meng Family reigned as the undisputed paramount authority.

As the progenitor of this formidable clan, his every decree wielded absolute sway over the city’s destiny.

Yet, in this present moment, the once-absolute ruler exhibited an astonishing degree of deference towards others.

Were the populace of Longxing City to witness this spectacle, they would undoubtedly be plunged into utter astonishment.

However, if they were aware of the black-robed man's identity, many might realize the situation.

This figure garbed in black was named Long Zhou, a formidable figure from thirty thousand years in the past.

It is commonly said that around thirty thousand years ago, Long Zhou's name echoed throughout the entire Heaven Extreme Realm.

Whispers suggested that among the most powerful individuals of his era, none could rival him.

At the height of his prowess, he once annihilated thirteen Dao Fruit Powerhouses in a single, decisive engagement.

That was thirty thousand years ago, and the realm of his current cultivation remains a mystery.

His strength is truly beyond human comprehension.

During his prime, Long Zhou made the decision to withdraw from public life.

The reason, it is rumored, was his wife's aversion to the constant strife and conflict.

After all, as the saying goes, one who frequently walks by the river is bound to get their shoes wet.

For Long Zhou, his wife held a significance surpassing anyone or anything else.

He would unhesitatingly choose his wife over his own Martial Path, should such a choice ever arise.

Consequently, at the zenith of his power, he and his beloved retreated to a secluded, idyllic haven, far removed from the world's clamor.

Following this, the world ceased to hear any further accounts of Long Zhou's exploits.

He made his reappearance merely a few days prior.

His wife had been afflicted with a severe illness, a malady so profound that even his immense cultivation could not remedy it.

After exhausting numerous avenues, he finally gleaned information from an account related by an enigmatic individual.

The symptoms afflicting his wife were attributed to a curse.

From a considerable distance, a thousand miles away, the curse's malevolent influence intensified.

The method to unravel this curse appeared straightforward enough.

Should the afflicted person possess sufficient strength, the curse would find it difficult to manifest its full power.

The crux of the issue was that his wife was merely an ordinary mortal, her longevity sustained solely by longevity elixirs he painstakingly acquired and administered bit by bit over time.

To have his wife embark on the path of cultivation seemed as improbable as ascending to the heavens.

By the time she might achieve any measure of success, the curse could have become too deeply entrenched, her condition beyond any hope of cure.

Yet, the peculiar individual's narrative offered an alternative path.

A distinguished Buddhist monk might possess the ability to break such a curse.

Buddhism, after all, holds a renowned expertise in transformation and the dispelling of curses.

Subsequently, upon inquiring with the mysterious person about the location of the most potent monk available.

The enigmatic individual responded, "The Buddha Country is situated within Longxing City."

Thus, Long Zhou, accompanying his wife and their two children, journeyed there with utmost haste, arriving overnight.