Xuanxia

Chapter 1053: Desperate Road to Becoming a Demon (Part )

Jiangnan, Mangdang Mountain, Jinchan Ancient Temple.

Unlike the grand and magnificent Jinchan Temple in the capital, this ancient temple that has lasted for hundreds of years is quite simple.

When the fog first cleared from Mount Mangdang, five layers of green eaves pierced through the sea of ​​clouds.

The blue bricks and black tiles are soaked in moss, and bronze wind chimes hang from the eaves and corners, but there is no sound at all. There are no morning bells or evening drums in the temple, only the rustling of the robes of eight hundred monks.

A plaque with the words "Empty Cicada" hangs in the Sutra Pavilion, and spider webs on the eaves are covered with dew. An old monk sits cross-legged on a cushion and strikes a wooden fish, the sound of which sounds like autumn rain hitting stones; a young novice kneels in the corridor and flips through palm-leaf scriptures, the rustling of paper like spring silkworms devouring mulberry trees; a broom is leaning against the side in front of the Discipline Courtyard, and the bamboo branches draw 36,000 arcs on the ground, which are filled with fallen leaves every day and then swept clean again.

The window lattices of the Sutra Library let in skylight, and dust formed Sanskrit in the beams of light; the ancient ginkgo leaves cast gold-foil shadows on the scriptures, as if Buddha's finger was tapping them; the cold pond in the back mountain reflected the tower, and a few red carps swam past the reflection of the bell hanging on the top of the tower, and the ripples shattered the seven-story pagoda.

In the Buddhist hall deepest in the mountain temple, Master Huikong still looks like the little novice monk of the old days. He sits quietly in front of the Buddha, twirling beads in his hands and humming softly.

Soon, the door of the Buddhist temple was pushed open, and the sunlight pierced through the mountain fog and shone into the temple, casting a human figure on the ground.

"Amitabha……"

Huikong did not turn around, but whispered: "Why did you not stay in Xishuo, but came to this deserted mountain and ruined temple?"

The green lamp flickered, illuminating the face of the person coming to the door...it was the King of Xishuo, Zhao Liang!
Zhao Liang looked a little tired and his face was quite pale, but he still managed to take care of himself meticulously, and not even a strand of his hair was messy.

"Of course, I have something important to do, so I came here just now."

He spoke softly, slowly came to Huikong and sat down on the cushion.

Huikong did not tilt his head.

Three years ago, they had a fierce battle in the palace.

On that occasion, King Xishuo took advantage of the half-possession of his lord's soul and fought his way to the palace, intending to directly help his lord ascend the throne, but he was immediately stopped by Dong Qianran and Huikong. He was defeated by the two and fled in embarrassment.

But when they met again, they were quite peaceful and calm.

“Donor, since you have seen the Buddha, why don’t you bow to him?” Huikong asked.

Zhao Liang was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, not kneeling. He looked up at the Buddha, with no intention of worshiping him at all.

"This king only respects the ancient holy rites and teachings, and does not believe in gods or Buddhas."

He said calmly: "If you don't believe it, then you won't worship it."

"Amitabha..." Huikong said calmly, "The donor has no gods or Buddhas in his heart, no faith or reverence, no wonder he dared to do such a rebellious act."

"Ah."

Zhao Liang laughed: "Master Huikong, you can be weird too?"

"If you put down some shackles, the world will become wider." Huikong smiled slightly.

At this point, he finally turned his head and looked at Zhao Liang: "Donor, you didn't come here to debate with me, did you?"

"Actually, I have a question that I would like to ask the Master."

Zhao Liang's eyes became serious: "Buddhism talks about reincarnation and rebirth, so...if the deceased has a complete soul, can we create a reincarnation for him and help him come back to life?"

Upon hearing this question, Huikong's eyes narrowed slightly.

"The dead cannot be resurrected."

He said firmly: "Even if the Styx Valley technique can help people retain their souls, it is only because the person is not dead. If the person is really dead, then no matter what method is used, it is impossible to bring the dead back to life."

Zhao Liang's face turned cold.

However, his tone was still polite and calm.

"Master, if you don't want to say it, you can refuse this king."

He said softly, "With your status and position, you shouldn't lie to me." Huikong smiled helplessly, "Donor, monks don't tell lies. I didn't lie to you."

"Ah."

Zhao Liang tried his best to control himself from sneering, but he still couldn't help showing a hint of disdain: "It is recorded in the fragments of the Styx Valley that their skills have been transformed over the years and have incorporated a lot of the Dharma of the Milun Temple, which is why they are so powerful now! Your Jinchan Temple is said to have inherited the orthodoxy of the Milun Temple, how could you not know?"

The bronze wick burst into a lamp flower.

Huikong lowered his eyes and looked at the leaping flames: "The souls cross the Styx, the reincarnation of the secret wheel, all are the boats transformed by obsession... The raft must be abandoned when it reaches the other side, why do you cling to this body?"

"..."

Zhao Liang's face finally couldn't help but turn gloomy.

He said in a deep voice: "Master Huikong, are you really unwilling to say it?"

"Originally there is nothing, how can we talk about it?"

Huikong said softly, "If you don't believe it, you can go to the Sutra Library in our temple and look for it yourself. You can read all the books in our temple."

"Ah."

This time, Zhao Liang sneered, "After I read through the thousands of books in your Jinchan Temple, am I waiting for you to call in those people from the Xuanmeng and Mingjian Pavilion to surround and kill me in the temple?"

Huikong showed a bitter smile on his face.

"Donor, you know... I am not that kind of person."

He clasped his hands together, bowed his head and said, "I dare not say that I have never said a single lie in my life, and I dare not claim that I am honest and frank, but in front of the Buddha, the words I promise will not be false in the slightest."

"Hmph... My king, I don't have that much time."

Zhao Liang's eyebrows frowned downwards, and murderous intent began to overflow from his eyes.

His sleeves made slight creaking sounds from his joints, and he began to radiate coldness from his body. The blue bricks of the Buddhist hall were suddenly covered with frost marks.

"Alas... the dead leaves turn into mud to protect the new buds."

Huikong's fingertips hovered over a Buddhist bead and he sighed, "If we force the autumn colors to stay on the branches, there will be no spring in the mountains next year."

The sandalwood burning in front of the Buddha suddenly solidified in the air.

Zhao Liang slowly stood up, his dark python robe brushing against the frost on the ground. "It seems that the master intends to use these witty remarks to get by."

A pale halo floated in the cold pond-like shadow behind him, vaguely outlining a human figure: "Since you won't tell me, then I can only find a way myself and get the answer from you."

Before he finished speaking, the bronze lamps all went out!
The human figure behind Zhao Liang began to condense and become clear, just like during the Xuanmeng Ceremony. The thick white fog began to dissipate, and the cold air instantly filled the entire Buddhist hall, and even the Buddha statue on the niche was frozen and cracked in the cold air.

The helplessness and sadness in Huikong's eyes became even stronger.

"Donor, it's safe to turn around."

He uttered the last word in vain.

Zhao Liang smiled slightly, and the white mist began to wrap around him, almost engulfing him completely. The terrifying and gloomy pressure from the white mist figure became stronger and stronger.

The Buddhist beads in Huikong's hand suddenly burst into golden light, and the 108 Bodhi seeds reflected the golden mantras all over the wall.

The next moment, a white shadow came with a biting cold wind!

The scriptures placed in the Buddhist hall began to flip, and the gold powder on the palm-leaf scriptures floated in the air to form the word "卍". Huikong sat upright in the virtual shadow of the lotus pedestal, and the seven layers of Buddha's light spread out like ripples.

"Look, benefactor, can this moth flying into the fire see itself?"

The Buddhist hall suddenly exploded with thousands of Buddhist chants and ghost howls!
(End of this chapter)