Chapter 116: The Wen Clan Beseeches the Ancestor to Depart for the Afterlife-I Became the Female Villain in a Male-Oriented Novel(Sichuan Pepper)

"Master?" The Sorrowful Buddha was stunned, as if he had not expected this answer.

"No, that’s impossible. It cannot be Master."

"Master is the one who eradicates demons!"

"Master is not a true traitor."

The Sorrowful Buddha muttered to himself, and by the end, he could no longer even hear his own voice.

"Hey! Where are you going?" The Saint Son of the Demon Clan was becoming annoyed with him. This man had started walking toward the crowd without a word. "Don't drag me to my death just because you're seeking yours. Can't you see Wen Jingge is already surrounded?"

The Sorrowful Buddha looked as if his spirit had been sucked away by a demon, his entire demeanor wilted. He gazed at the ancient ginkgo tree and pointed to the side. "There should be a dry well here."

"There isn't one!" The Saint Son looked as if he had seen a ghost, then slapped himself across the face. "I am a demon, not one of your servant girls. Can you show me some respect? Immortal Wen—"

He opened his mouth, intending to act as if nothing had happened, but the blood-stained figure suddenly turned her head. "Why are you calling me?"

Looking at the carnage of severed limbs on the ground, the Saint Son’s mouth twitched. "Do you have a thing for chopping off people's limbs?"

Wen Jingge had not taken their lives, but the ground was carpeted with arms and legs. Those who had been maimed lay there, rolling in agony; it was a scene of utter misery.

"I don't like it as much as you might imagine."

"Listen to that—is that something a human would say?" The Saint Son tugged at the Sorrowful Buddha. "Aren't you a Buddhist? Don't you constantly chant about the compassion of Buddha?"

"No," the Sorrowful Buddha said, dazed. "I chant 'Amitabha'."

The Demon Saint Son: ...

"How virtuous! How virtuous!"

The Demon Saint Son: ...

"Does the benefactor wish to hear about the compassion of my Buddha?"

The Demon Saint Son: ...

"My Buddha is compassionate, and heaven favors the living... is that not it?" The Sorrowful Buddha rubbed his bald head, looking toward Wen Jingge in confusion. "What are they doing? Where is this? Why is this humble monk here?"

"Are you suffering from amnesia?" The Saint Son took a deep breath. Why was his luck so terrible? If he had known where this was, would he have been caught so easily?

"I don't remember, I don't remember." The Sorrowful Buddha looked despondent, appearing truly detached from the world. "Benefactor, do you know the way to the Xuan Yun Sect? This humble monk seems to be heading there to reunite with my senior brother."

The Saint Son looked at the person who was still happily slaughtering and pointed a finger. "You wouldn't be looking for her, would you?"

"Ah!" The Sorrowful Buddha tapped his forehead in surprise. "Yes, that is Immortal Wen."

Only then did he seem to wake from some sort of comfort zone. He looked at the scene in confusion. "Shouldn't we go help Immortal Wen? Wait, you have two horns on your head—you're a demon!"

"Horns?" The Saint Son was astonished. He reached up to touch his head, but there were no horns. "You must be insane!"

"Why are they only attacking Immortal Wen? So many people have already fallen, yet they continue to target her. Why? We are standing right here!" The Sorrowful Buddha pursed his lips. "How strange!"

"You want me to take the monk and the Saint Son away?" Wen Jingge raised an eyebrow.

Liang Si and the others were far away, and Wen Jingge had assumed these members of the Wen Clan would do something to them. But it seemed they really were only targeting her.

"They are useless." Wen Xue-shan held his arm, the only one of his group still standing. "Did the Ancestor realize we are not human?"

"Indeed," Wen Jingge nodded. "Not human, not demon, not spirit. I cannot fathom what you are."

"It seems the Ancestor has truly forgotten many things."

"Is it possible you are mistaken? That I am not your Ancestor?"

"In this world, only the Ancestor has the power to open that gate."

"Perhaps it is the treasure I carry?"

"No," Wen Xue-shan said with certainty. "When you left, you said that only through your own hand would the gate to the Divine Realm open. The Heavenly Ladder will descend upon the world after your death, and we shall pass away alongside you."

"Are you saying I must die?"

"Yes." Wen Xue-shan knelt, looking at Wen Jingge with deep emotion. "Members of the Wen Clan, please send the Ancestor to the afterlife!"

"Members of the Wen Clan, please send the Ancestor to the afterlife!"

Every person present who still had the strength to remain conscious shouted in unison. The impact of the scene was staggering.

"As you say!" Wen Jingge tossed aside her demonic zither and sat down on the ground. "I have forgotten many things. I can die, but I do not wish to die in confusion. If you had explained yourself clearly, you wouldn't have had to suffer like this, would you?"

"No," Wen Xue-shan shook his head. "The Ancestor must die in utter despair for it to be effective. This is what you said; we are merely following your instructions."

"Very well, I understand." She reached for her demonic zither. "I know your limbs can be reattached. If you go and kill my disciples now, it will cause me pain."

The Demon Saint Son: Don't look at me! Don't look at me! I am innocent!

"Yes, we obey the Ancestor's command." Wen Xue-shan directed them to proceed.

"So obedient," Wen Jingge laughed helplessly. Watching them split off to kill Liang Si and the others, she didn't know how to respond, so she changed the subject. "The 'me' you speak of must have been my past life, correct?"

"The Ancestor will not die—"

"Good!" Wen Jingge shouted. She suddenly stood up, lifted the demonic zither, and brought it down upon her own neck.

"You, you, you!" The Demon Saint Son considered himself a man who had seen great storms, but he had never seen anyone as insane as Wen Jingge. He tried to intervene, but it was too late.

Wen Jingge’s head had already fallen.

The Sorrowful Buddha looked devastated, as if he were the one who had died. "How can this be? How can this be? Why is everyone dead?"

"Wait?" He rubbed his head. "Why did this humble monk say 'everyone'? Who else is dead?"

"Senior brother, I must find my senior brother."

"Send off the Ancestor!" Wen Xue-shan closed her eyes and placed her head back beside her body. He knelt on the ground and shouted.

All the Wen clansmen stopped, as if time had frozen. They wept and kowtowed to Wen Jingge, as if they were not the ones who had killed her.

Lu Wei walked over with several disciples. He looked at her; the girl's blood-stained clothes were spread across the ground, and the fallen ginkgo leaves were dyed a deep crimson—it was her blood.

"Why kill her?" His red, dual-pupiled eyes turned toward Wen Xue-shan. "Was she not your respected Ancestor? Is the Ghost Festival meant to kill ghosts? Or to kill people?"

"Ghosts." Wen Xue-shan knelt on the ground. "The gate is open; you may leave."

"She is a ghost? I think you are the ghosts!"

Wen Xue-shan was not afraid of him. "Only when the ghosts in the human heart are extinguished can the gods be invited. She was once our master; a master of the masses needs no humanity."

At that moment, Lu Wei thought of himself. "And what of those gods who turned into demons?"

"Once they have fallen into demonic ways, how can they still be considered gods? Mr. Lu, what do you think?"

"You recognize me?" Lu Wei gripped his throat; he had never mentioned his surname was Lu.

"I recognize you now. They may leave, but you must remain. When the Heavenly Ladder appears, your sins shall also be judged!" With a flick of his sleeve, Wen Xue-shan cast Lu Wei aside, and he felt his body grow light as he was thrown out.