A colossal Buddha’s Palm descended from the sky, crushing the incoming swarm of venomous snakes into a pulp. The monk landed before the old monk, murmuring a Dharma Name in a low voice.

The two people in green-robes looked at the enormous palm imprint on the ground, their mouths agape in awe. The thought of their own bodies subjected to such power, reduced to a bloody mess, sent a shiver down their spines.

"This monk’s name is Faming," the monk introduced himself and performed a Buddhist salutation to the elder monk.

"It turns out to be Master Faming. This old monk’s Dharma Name is Mingyuan, the Abbot of Western Mountain Temple."

"May I ask, venerable Zen Master, what exactly has occurred here? On my journey, I have witnessed nothing but temples demolished and Buddhas destroyed. What has the Buddhist Sect done to provoke such calamity?"

"Alas! To not disguise the truth from you, Zen Master, this banishment of the Buddhist Sect is the doing of the current State Preceptor. It all started with a drought three years ago."

The old Zen Master recounted the past events, which caused Faming to furrow his brow. Only after a long pause did he sigh softly, "Out of greed, harm has come to our Sect. Yet, these State Preceptors also seem quite aggressive, using it as a pretext to attempt the eradication of our Sect."

Turning his head, his eyes sharp, the two figures in green who were trying to sneak away stopped in their tracks. The leader showed an awkward smile and said, "Master, we won’t disturb your reunion any further. We’ll take our leave now."

"You bad people, you were just trying to kill us!" a little monk stepped forward and shouted angrily.

"Misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding. We were just joking around. Surely the Master, with his compassionate heart, wouldn’t mind too much, right?"

"Hmph!" A cold snort resounded, and the two instantly felt an immense force strike them, sending them flying backwards. They crashed through several trees before plummeting to the ground, blood spewing from their mouths.

What terrified them even more was that their meridians seemed to be sealed by some mystical force, which meant from that moment on they were nothing more than ordinary people with robust physiques, unable to use their skills as before.

"Scram!" a commanding voice ordered, and the two dared not linger, scrambling up and hastily leaving.

Faming watched their retreating figures, suppressed the rage in his heart, and murmured softly, "Amitabha Buddha!"

"Venerable Abbot, may I inquire what plans you have for the future?"

The old monk gently patted the little monk by his side on the head, looked up at the sky, and sighed before saying, "It’s no longer feasible to stay in Chechi Kingdom. Buddhism is being persecuted everywhere. I intend to lead these children east, away from this strife."

"That is a good plan. However, the journey eastward is fraught with danger. If you don’t mind, wait for me for a couple of days, and I will accompany you on your journey," Faming suggested after some thought.

"Oh? What does the Master intend to do? Chechi Kingdom is now far too perilous—it’s best to avoid drawing attention."

"Nothing much. I plan to meet with those State Preceptors and ask why they are making things so difficult for our Sect," Faming’s eyes flashed with a firm resolve.

"Master, you mustn’t! Those State Preceptors are like Immortals, capable of Summon Wind and Call Rain. Should they harbor ill will, our Sect would lose yet another enlightened and accomplished monk," the old monk quickly tried to dissuade him.

As the abbot of a temple, he had good judgment. A monk like Faming was bound to become a pillar of the Buddhist Sect. He did not wish to see this monk of boundless potential walk towards death.

"Amitabha Buddha," said Faming, "I appreciate the Abbot’s kind intention, but having come from Mount Ling, how could I stand by and watch the Buddhist Sect be destroyed? Continue to wait here for a time, and if after three days I have not returned, then the Abbot may lead these children eastward." After leaving these words, Faming rose upon an auspicious cloud and headed straight for the national capital.

A group of monks were stunned by the sight before them; they hadn’t expected this monk, with his kind face, to possess the power of Riding the Clouds like the Buddha.

"Did he just say he came from Mount Ling?" the old monk muttered to himself doubtfully.

The little monks around him now had stars in their eyes, and one of them tugged at the Abbot’s kasaya, asking, "Abbot, is Master Faming an Arhat?"

"He probably is. Let’s hope for a good outcome this time," murmured the old monk to himself.

Meanwhile, Faming had already flown over Chechi Kingdom in an instant and could see the sprawling National Master Mansion from afar.

He gently descended from the cloud, and his presence was swiftly noticed by a Taoist, who asked with a cautious look, "Where does this monk come from, and what brings you to the National Master Mansion?"

The arrival of a monk was notable—many monks had lost their temples and even their lives to the commands of the State Preceptor during this time.

"I am monk Faming, here to seek an audience with the State Preceptor!"

"Off you go, foolish baldy. Do you think the National Master Mansion is a place you can simply enter? The sight of your bald head angers me. Now leave quickly; if you bother us further, don’t blame me for having you thrown into prison," the Taoist said irritably, trying to drive him away.

An unknown monk demanding to see the State Preceptor as if he thought he was the living Buddha—the Taoist was full of scorn.

However, Faming paid no heed, treating the prior words as merely a formal notification before slowly continuing his walk towards the National Master Mansion.

The Taoist hurriedly drew his treasured sword and stepped in front of Faming, saying, "Don’t be foolish, or I’ll not be polite to you anymore."

Seeing Faming continue to advance, the Taoist gritted his teeth and chopped his Treasured Sword towards Faming’s neck.

Faming stood unmoving, allowing the sword to strike at his neck. Surprisingly, the sharp Treasured Sword clinked as if hitting metal, and with a flash of golden light around Faming, the Taoist was repelled and knocked to the ground.

He looked down at his sword, which now had a notch in it, and then at Faming, who was unharmed and wore a nonchalant expression. The Taoist wisely stayed on the ground, knowing better than to involve himself in a fight between divine beings.

Thus, Faming casually entered the gates of the National Master Mansion, his demeanor tranquil and pace steady as if he were simply out for a stroll.

His entry quickly drew the attention of many; countless Taoists emerged from all directions and surrounded Faming.

"Audacious monk, how dare you intrude upon the National Master Mansion—seize him!" came an order.

Numerous Taoists rushed forward, eager to take credit for apprehending the uninvited guest, but unforeseen by any, a burst of golden light flashed, sending countless figures flying backward, scattering across the ground in agony, while wails filled the National Master Mansion.

Standing amid the crowd, Faming lowered his head and softly recited the Buddha’s name, his expression compassionate. Yet, to those Taoists, he might as well have been a demon; many retreated in terror, no longer daring to engage with this fearsome monk.