Chapter 340: Illusion of the Ancient Bell

Among those who had experienced Old Zhang's unique acupuncture, only Wu Sheng spoke favorably of it. Everyone else regarded Old Zhang with a mixture of awe and fear, avoiding him whenever possible. Of course, the Wu Clan Elder's assessment of Old Zhang was mixed. While Old Zhang had indeed cured him, he had also robbed him of his manly dignity, even though his advanced age rendered it unnecessary.

"It's not really in the way, is it?" Lin Fan mused, referring to something unspecified.

"Let's continue climbing," he declared. "Good exercise." Waving his hand, Lin Fan led the group further up the mountain. For others, this journey was fraught with peril, their lives constantly at risk. But in Lin Fan's words, it was merely a climb. Perhaps, with overwhelming strength, one truly could do as they pleased.

In the distance…

"Damn it!" Mo Wu's face was grim. His injuries were severe. The damage to the mystical flying sword had wounded his essence. Even with his Saint Realm cultivation, such an injury to his essence would require considerable time and precious resources to heal.

The surrounding clan disciples dared not speak. They knew Saint Mo Wu was furious. Being humiliated in such a way was a slap in the face to all Saints. Having reached such a realm, even when facing stronger experts from the Starry Sky Clans, he shouldn't have to be so humbled. Yet, the current situation had utterly stripped him of his dignity.

His priority now was to relay the situation back to his clan. They needed reinforcements, powerful reinforcements, to control the situation.

The spectacle of Lin Fan's battle with Mo Wu had already attracted widespread attention. Most experts were aware of the violent tremors echoing from afar. Such was the nature of battles between powerhouses. It also served as a warning to other experts to tread carefully, lest they encounter similar trouble and find themselves unable to escape.

On the small path…

Sun Xiao held his phone, filming the surroundings. Such open filming was only possible when he was with Lin Fan. The viewers in his livestream were already thoroughly impressed by Lin Fan's power. Their idol was clearly no ordinary person. They also envied Sun Xiao's luck. By the idol's side, safety was absolutely guaranteed.

As they walked…

Suddenly, Lin Fan stopped. He noticed that those following him had also halted, seemingly captivated by something.

"What's wrong?" he asked curiously.

No one answered.

The Wu Clan Elder and the others stared in one direction, their eyes vacant, as if under some kind of influence.

"Xiao Bao…"

"Old Zhang…"

Lin Fan called out, but they remained unresponsive.

What was going on?

The livestream chat erupted.

"What's happening?"

"Dog Thief Xiao isn't moving!"

"Looks like they're in trouble."

"Why can the idol move? Does this thing only affect certain people?"

"Nonsense! This is an ancient ruin, of course it's dangerous. The reason our idol is fine is because he's strong!"

"Perfect explanation, you said exactly what I was thinking."

No one knew what was happening. Even Lin Fan was baffled. They had been walking along perfectly fine. Why this sudden change?

Then, he stood in front of Old Zhang, leaned his head against Old Zhang's, and followed his line of sight. A clever tactic. Who would dare say that those who came from the青山 Mental Hospital weren't intelligent? That would be a misunderstanding of mental patients. Look at how clever Lin Fan was! Even when coming up with such a brilliant idea, he remained humble and composed, without a trace of pride.

"There…"

He saw what had captured Old Zhang's gaze. On a small hill in the distance, there was a dilapidated ancient bell. It stood within a pavilion, weathered and worn by time. There was nothing remarkable about it. It appeared utterly ordinary.

Soon, Lin Fan stood before the old bell, tilting his head as he examined it. He couldn't discern anything unusual.

"It's all rusted," he observed, reaching out to touch the bell.

Suddenly, a deep, resonant bell chime reverberated through the air, ascending to the heavens and descending into the depths of hell. This was no ordinary chime.

Creatures throughout Changbai Mountain heard the sound. Countless mutated beasts roared in apparent fright, their deafening cries echoing through the mountains, their aura radiating a chilling power.

Many people paled. It wasn't the bell's chime that unsettled them, but the terrifying roars of the beasts. How could such fearsome creatures exist in Changbai Mountain?

The White Jiao, hidden beneath Heaven's Pool, jolted in alarm. Its already minimized form shrank further, retreating into its shell, too afraid to move.

"Who is courting death, daring to go there?"

The White Jiao had lived in Changbai Mountain for countless years. It knew better than anyone which places were safe and which were not. It was a cheerful White Jiao, a little darling on the path to transforming from Jiao to Dragon. It preferred to guard its treasure, waiting for it to mature, and avoid unnecessary conflicts it couldn't win. The risks were too high, the rewards too meager.

The moment Lin Fan touched the rusty bell, his consciousness was pulled into a mysterious space. No… not a space, but a lingering echo of a gathering of powerful beings from ancient times, engaged in a philosophical debate. Their residual power had formed this peculiar illusion.

"Old Zhang…"

"Xiao Bao…"

"Mother Hen…"

"Where are you…"

The surrounding environment was familiar – the same place they had been – yet it felt like Changbai Mountain from thousands of years ago.

He walked and walked.

Noisy voices reached his ears.

Looking up, he saw a group of people sitting beneath the ancient bell in the distance. The clamor emanated from them. Upon closer inspection, they seemed oblivious to Lin Fan's presence, engrossed in heated debate.

Two figures beneath the bell stood out. They resembled teachers lecturing students, or perhaps figures of high status, seated in positions of honor.

One wore tattered Daoist robes. The other had darker skin and strange attire, resembling a Buddhist. He was debating with the old Daoist, each word accompanied by descending lotus flowers that enveloped the surroundings.

Anyone else in Lin Fan's situation would have recognized the significance of this scene. This was a clash between Buddhism and Daoism, the native Daoists resisting the encroachment of a foreign faith, yet losing ground. A mysterious force seemed to be manipulating events from behind the scenes.

Lin Fan paid no attention to the noise. Finding his companions was his priority.

"Huh? What are you all doing here?" Lin Fan spotted Old Zhang and the others sitting in a row, their eyes glazed over as they stared at the Buddhist figure by the bell, mumbling incomprehensible scriptures.

Lin Fan went to Old Zhang, took his hand, and said, "Old Zhang, let's go. What are you doing?"

There was no response. The Mother Hen, meanwhile, clucked rhythmically.

"Mother Hen, where are your feathers?" Lin Fan noticed the hen was completely bald, not a single feather remained. He couldn't fathom what had happened. The Evil Rooster, lacking in willpower, had converted to Buddhism with a single Buddhist chant, shaved its feathers, and become a Buddhist Chicken.

Normally, the Mother Hen would acknowledge Lin Fan, but now it ignored him completely, leaving Lin Fan even more perplexed.

"We shouldn't be here," Lin Fan muttered, sensing they were under some kind of spell. He picked up the Mother Hen and pulled on Old Zhang's hand…

Just then, the noise ceased. Everyone who had been clamoring turned to look at Lin Fan in unison. The old Daoist by the bell vanished.

The Buddhist figure looked at Lin Fan, his eyes filled with an astonishing power, as if the weight of the entire world rested upon him. Fierce. Angry. Various gazes locked onto Lin Fan, their message clear: you cannot take them.

"Why are you looking at me? They are my friends, and I'm taking them with me," Lin Fan stated, undaunted. He sensed hostility from them. They didn't seem like good people. However, he wasn't one to judge by appearances. He needed to interact with them to understand their true nature.

The Buddhist figure by the bell gently struck the bell. It vibrated, emitting sound waves that rippled outwards like waves. This was a captivating chime, difficult for anyone to resist.

"You can ring your bell, but I'm taking my friends. You cannot stop me. If you try to keep them here by force, I will not be polite."

As soon as he finished speaking, Lin Fan stomped his foot. The force of the impact created a crack in the ground, which snaked towards the bell like a living creature.

When the crack reached the bell, the Buddhist figure lowered his gaze, and a light emanated from him.

"The sea of suffering is boundless, turn back to the shore."

It was a simple act, like rewinding time. The crack vanished, as if nothing had happened. An ordinary person would have been powerless to stop it.

Unfortunately…this was Lin Fan's stomp. The power behind it was unimaginable. The crack didn't disappear. Instead, it pierced through the light and reached the base of the bell.

Crack!

The bell hummed, vibrated, and then cracked, the sound sharp and piercing.

The crowd, which had been watching Lin Fan, shifted their gaze back to the bell. Some looked pleased. Others, regretful. Some seemed relieved. Only the Buddhist figure by the bell glared at Lin Fan with fury, his form growing increasingly blurry, the surrounding scene rippling and fading.

Everything returned to normal.

"What just happened?" The Wu Clan Elder was the first to recover, looking around in confusion, disoriented.