Inside the dilapidated temple, Cang Yaochen sat cross-legged by the fractured offering table, forcibly tearing the Asura Godhead away from his own essence.
"Holy Monk... You will die."
Jiang Li opened her eyes weakly; she could feel Cang Yaochen's aura withering at a terrifying speed.
"Be quiet."
Cang Yaochen's voice was incredibly soft. He stared fixedly at Jiang Li, his gaze profoundly gentle. "I know exactly what I am doing."
At that moment, the stone statue in the temple—its face long since weathered beyond recognition—suddenly began to tremble.
Buzz—
As a thick layer of mud crust peeled away, it unexpectedly revealed a translucent, amber-colored "cicada slough" hidden within.
It was the "Withered Cicada Sarira," left behind by a Buddhist Saint who had attained Nirvana in this very place ten thousand years ago.
[System Prompt: Detected Buddhist Legacy—Withered Cicada Sarira. Host may use the Sarira to repair your soul.]
Cang Yaochen looked at the Sarira, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He cast a glance at the frail Jiang Li and, without a moment's hesitation, reached out into the void and crushed the Sarira.
"Li'er, open your mouth."
He guided the essence of the Sarira, mixed with his own divine blood, into Jiang Li's mouth.
Jiang Li's lips, which had turned purple from the backlash of the chaotic turbidity, regained their rosiness at a pace visible to the naked eye. More importantly, the Sarira formed a temporary "Buddhist Seal" within her body, gently enveloping the Evil God origin that had been rampaging due to her terror.
"...Hot."
Jiang Li murmured unconsciously, her body instinctively leaning toward Cang Yaochen.
Due to the medicinal power of the Sarira, their souls produced a bizarre resonance at this moment. Cang Yaochen closed his eyes and saw a vision: ten thousand years ago, upon a blood-soaked battlefield, a thousand-armed demonic shadow had personally buried this cicada slough beneath the ground of this temple.
That was the Asura Godhead!
"So... was this also part of your scheme?"
Cang Yaochen whispered in self-mockery. He felt his own energy growing weaker and weaker as the Sarira dissolved.
"Mm..."
Jiang Li fell into a deep sleep, her breathing steady, the red mark on her forehead gradually calming.
Cang Yaochen watched her sleeping face, his fingertip lightly brushing the tip of her cold nose. Though the demonic thoughts within him still roared, in this moment—within this ruined, desolate temple—he felt a long-lost, morbid sense of peace.
He no longer attempted to suppress the Asura Godhead. He slowly leaned back against the offering table, pulling Jiang Li tightly into his embrace, allowing the black divine patterns to spread across his entire body.
"Sleep. I cannot protect all living beings, but at least I can still protect you."
He lowered his head and kissed the crown of her head. This kiss was filled with nothing but selfish desire.
Outside the temple, the snow fell heavier, masking all their tracks—and concealing the birth of the Asura God within this desolate shrine, a birth destined to subvert the entire mortal realm.