Sweep Yuan

Chapter 205 Ideals Will Eventually Be Shattered

"...You must believe that it is not by external power that you can cut off the karmic delusions. Without encountering this gate, there is no way to escape birth and death..." A loud voice with a Jiangxi accent, filled with the unique zeal for saving the world of the Maitreya descent sect of the White Lotus School, flowed through the corridor shaded by ancient locust trees.

“…purification and cessation of evil are called cessation of evil; growth and nourishment are called growth of good…” Another aged and calm voice, with the rigor and composure unique to the Vinaya school, responded to the former.

"...With focused contemplation, one sees the Buddha's form through the mind; when mind and environment intertwine, one attains the supreme result through the means..."

The former is like a surging torrent, while the latter is like a deep pool or an ancient well.

"...Although one may perform a minor repentance ceremony, the karmic obstacles and imprisonment cannot be reversed... One should know that even if one's karmic obstacles and imprisonment are not completely eradicated through repentance, one is still considered pure..."

The debate had been going on for half a day, with two very different Buddhist philosophies colliding in this ancient temple with a history of over two hundred years.

"...its light shines so brightly that even the darkest places in the world are constantly illuminated..."

As the final verses fell, silence descended upon the corridor, broken only by the rustling of the wind through the ancient locust tree branches.

Miaoxing Temple, north of Hangzhou.

At this moment, hundreds of monks have gathered in the corridor of this ancient temple, which was first built in the first year of the Daguan era of the Northern Song Dynasty (1106 AD). They sit cross-legged with their legs crossed, their expressions solemn, thoughtful, or curious, listening intently to the debate between the two eminent monks in the center of the corridor.

The man sitting facing south is the abbot of Miaoxing Temple, a lean old monk with white hair and beard. He wears a solemn sanghati robe, and his withered fingers twirl ebony prayer beads, each bead seemingly carrying the weight of time.

The abbot of Miaoxing Temple has been studying the Vinaya Pitaka (Four-Part Vinaya) for decades. He is strict in upholding the precepts, and his words and deeds are all in accordance with the law. He represents the fundamental precept of Buddhism: "Do no evil, do all good."

Opposite the abbot sat a large, stout monk wearing an earth-yellow robe. He had a square face, large ears, and sharp, piercing eyes. Although he wore monk's robes, there was an inescapable air of rugged heroism between his brows, as well as a fervent desire to save the world that seemed out of place among those who lived outside the secular world.

This person studied the "Lushan Lotus Sect Treasure Mirror" and the "Maitreya's Descent Sutra".

Although the White Lotus sect was banned again by the Yuan court for leading the major uprising of the Red Turban Army in the north and south.

However, it cannot be denied that it has been passed down for more than two hundred years and was once recognized by the Song and Yuan dynasties. It integrates the Buddhist theory of Pure Land belief and Maitreya's descent to save the world. It has a complete system, rigorous logic, and its own profound foundation.

The fact that two eminent monks from different sects with vastly different philosophies could openly discuss the Dao at Miaoxing Temple, while the monks in the corridor listened with great interest, and some even showed thoughtful agreement, is itself a manifestation of Miaoxing Temple's unique tradition.

Since the founding of Miaoxing Temple by Amitabha, it has been known as a place of "reception" and has been dedicated to providing shelter for traveling monks, Taoists, refugees, and beggars. It has also been used to collect and bury the bodies of those who die on the road.

At the turn of the Northern and Southern Song Dynasties, Hangzhou (then called Lin'an) became a gathering place for displaced people. Yu Mituo's actions alleviated social contradictions and relieved the pressure on the precarious Southern Song court, thus gaining official support. The number of buildings gradually increased, and the temple was renamed Miaoxing Temple.

Because Miaoxing Temple received and cared for three to four million people before and after its establishment, it became known as the "Temple of Reception." During the Southern Song Dynasty, two prime ministers, Zhao Ding and Zhang Jun, respectively wrote poems entitled "On Amitabha's Collection and Covering of Remains" and "In Praise of Amitabha's Covering of Remains," to praise Amitabha's benevolent act.

For more than two hundred years, monks and Taoists from the north and south have come here to exchange ideas and stay overnight. The debates and discussions on scriptures have long been ingrained in the very essence of this ancient temple.

In the past, debates were mostly private exchanges between like-minded people, or small gatherings of three or five close friends. It is rare for all the monks of the temple to gather together today, with the abbot of the temple personally participating in a public debate with a White Lotus School master of a sensitive background.

The ideological gap is ultimately difficult to bridge.

At this point in the debate, both sides remained stuck in their own arguments, like two parallel streams that could never meet.

A hint of weariness appeared on the old abbot's withered face. He slowly clasped his hands together, his fingertips slightly deformed from years of observing the precepts. His voice was calm, yet carried a barely perceptible sigh:

“Benefactor Peng quoted extensively from scriptures and was sharp in his wit. He thoroughly expounded the essence of the Lotus School Treasure Mirror and the Maitreya Descent Sutra. I, an old monk, study the Four-Part Vinaya, and I value the practice of cessation and conduct above all else. My knowledge of the profound teachings of other schools is limited. In this debate, I am ashamed to admit that I am not as good as him.”

He readily admitted defeat, but also subtly revealed his stance—it wasn't that Buddhism was inferior, but rather that the sects differed and the paths were different.

When the fat monk saw that the old abbot was still unwilling to admit his beliefs, he smiled and understood the persistence behind the other's "admission of defeat." He also put his hands together in return.

"Yingyu is dull-witted, but I am deeply grateful to the abbot for allowing me to stay here for so many days and discuss the Dharma with my fellow disciples. This is truly a great honor in my life. Now that my worldly ties have come to an end, I must take my leave. I hope that one day I will have the opportunity to hear the abbot's teachings again. Fellow disciples, until the end!"

The portly monk who debated Buddhist scriptures with the abbot of Miaoxing Temple was none other than Peng Yingyu.

In July, he joined forces with Xu Song's general Xiang Pulue, with tens of thousands of troops, and captured the strategically important Yuling Pass from Huizhou Road. They then successively captured Changhua, Yuqian, Lin'an, Yuhang and other cities, advancing with unstoppable momentum. On July 26, they captured Hangzhou, the capital of the Jiangzhe Province.

The governor of Jiangzhe Province, Fan Zhijing, died in battle at Tianshui Bridge, and Bao Ge and his wife committed suicide by drowning themselves in the lake.

After the city fell, Xiang Pulue chose Mingqing Temple, which housed solemn Buddhist statues, as the location of his headquarters, while Peng Yingyu led her troops to Miaoxing Temple, which was known for its compassion and charity.

The choice of their garrison reveals the deep-seated identity of these two Xu and Song generals: even though they commanded a large army and stirred up the world, their spiritual roots remained in the secluded realm of Buddhist temples and monks.

But the Buddhist temple is not a pure place. Since Peng and Xiang have been involved in the worldly affairs of this dynastic change and have been tainted by the great karma of bloodshed, how can they be pure again?

As the Yuan army and local militias launched fierce counterattacks across the Jiangzhe province, the passes surrounding Hangzhou were under siege one after another. Peng Yingyu knew in her heart that this brief period of living in a Buddhist temple, seemingly returning to the life of a monk, was finally coming to an end.

He bowed deeply to the old abbot and the monks in the corridor, then turned to leave.

Just then, the old abbot's aged yet remarkably clear voice came from behind, carrying a heavy admonition:

“Benefactor Peng! The sea of ​​suffering is boundless, but turning back is the shore! Lay down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot!”

The voice struck Peng Yingyu's heart like a heavy hammer. She paused, turned around abruptly, and faced the old abbot. The sneer on her face had vanished, replaced by an almost tragic solemnity.

He straightened his imposing frame, clasped his hands together above his forehead, his gaze blazing like lightning, his voice loud and resolute, as if he were pouring all his life's faith into the Buddhist chants and verses:
"Namo Maitreya Buddha!"

A Buddhist chant resonated deeply, followed by Peng Yingyu's resounding declaration.

"Killing is for the sake of protecting life; severing karma is not killing people! The world is in chaos, demons run rampant, and all living beings are suffering terribly. Yingyu has already vowed to overthrow the corrupt Yuan Dynasty. How can she easily turn back if the tyrannical Yuan Dynasty is not destroyed? If I don't go to hell, who will?!"

Having said that, Peng Yingyu suddenly flicked her sleeves, creating a gust of wind, and without further hesitation, strode out of the corridor.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The dull yet urgent drumbeats of the battle assembly suddenly rang out, breaking the tranquility of the temple and startling the birds on the ancient locust tree.

Before long, heavy footsteps, the clanging of armor, and shouts of officers echoed throughout the main halls, monks' quarters, and courtyards of Miaoxing Temple. The once solemn and dignified Buddhist temple was instantly enveloped in an atmosphere of impending doom.

Under the corridor, many monks showed undisguised relief on their faces, chanting Buddhist mantras in hushed tones, as if a huge weight had finally been lifted from their hearts.

After all, no matter how good the discipline of the army is, the presence of disorderly soldiers stationed in the temple is still a great danger and disruption.

Amidst the joyful chanting of Buddhist prayers, a young novice monk sitting in the corner seemed out of place. His head was slightly drooping, as if he were dozing off; if you were close enough, you could even hear his soft, even snores.

Right next to him on the right, an elderly monk with a kind face, dressed in a robe of Uttara, saw this and a hint of helplessness flashed in his eyes. He quickly reached out and gently nudged the young novice's shoulder, calling out softly:
"Daoyan, Daoyan! Wake up! The Dharma assembly is over, and Master Peng is leaving!"

The novice monk, whose Buddhist name was Daoyan, was awakened and opened his eyes somewhat reluctantly.

The moment this person opened his eyes, his unusual appearance was revealed—his eyes were peculiar, with slightly upturned corners, triangular eyelids, and deep pupils. A sharp light flickered between his opening and closing, subtly exuding the imposing aura of a tiger lying in wait, ready to pounce, which made people feel slightly intimidated.

Seeing the reproachful or curious glances from the surrounding monks, Daoyan showed no sign of panic. He immediately clasped his hands together, his expression solemn, even with a hint of detached calm, and said to the old monk:

"Master, please forgive me. I was just... in deep meditation."

This novice monk, whose secular name is Yao Guangxiao, is from Changzhou County (later Suzhou) in Pingjiang Road, and is seventeen years old this year.

Although he had only been ordained for half a year, Daoyan was exceptionally intelligent and deeply insightful, earning the high regard of his master. He had originally planned to travel with his master to various temples in Hangzhou to broaden his horizons, but unexpectedly, the armies of Xiang Yu and Peng Yue captured Hangzhou. Amidst the chaos of war, the master and disciple were forced to stay at Miaoxing Temple.

If it weren't for this unexpected turn of events, the two of them would have already returned to Miaozhi Nunnery in Cheung Chau to continue their intensive study of Buddhism.

"Hehe, I know. It's good to enter a meditative state. It's good to enter a meditative state."

In front of many monks from other temples, the kind-faced old master naturally wanted to save face for his disciple, so he did not point out the subtle difference between "entering samadhi" and "dozing off," but simply gently gestured for Daoyan to get up.

The master and disciple followed the flow of people out of the corridor, and saw that the vast courtyard in front of the main hall was now densely packed with soldiers whose heads were wrapped in bright red turbans. They held swords, spears, and clubs, and although the formation was not very orderly, everyone's face was filled with the fanaticism ignited by their faith and the excitement of about to go to an unknown battlefield.

Peng Yingyu's imposing figure stood atop the high steps in front of the hall, seemingly having just finished giving a final pep talk. His gaze swept over his soldiers, and with a sudden wave of his hand, his voice boomed like a bell:
"set off!"

"Roar!"

Thousands of people echoed in unison, and the frenzied shouts seemed to make the roof tiles of the palace tremble slightly.

As the red tide surged, the Red Turban Army soldiers turned around and rushed towards the mountain gate. During this time, Red Turban Army soldiers stationed at various branch campuses continued to join in, and the ranks grew larger and larger, gradually forming a boundless force.

"Ugh……"

Watching Peng Yingyu's resolute departure, gradually disappearing into the surging crowd of red-scarved people, the old monk sighed deeply.

This sigh reflects a complex view of this hero of a chaotic era, a deep concern for Buddhism's involvement in the calamity, and a sense of helplessness at one's own powerlessness to change the course of events.

The old master withdrew his gaze and turned to Daoyan, his disciple whom he both loved and worried about, and said earnestly:

"Daoyan, just now, Benefactor Peng and the abbot had a wonderful debate, their witty exchanges deeply resonating with Buddhist principles, but you entered into meditation. What a pity, what a real pity!" He genuinely regretted that his disciple had missed an opportunity to broaden his horizons.

Dao Yan's eyes, which resembled those of a sickly tiger, were unusually calm, even carrying a hint of world-weary indifference. He replied nonchalantly:
"Whether you listen or not, the outcome of the debate is already predetermined. What is there to regret?"

As he spoke, Dao Yan did not look at his master; his gaze remained fixed on the dust raised by the departing army outside the mountain gate.

The old monk was taken aback. He knew this disciple was exceptionally talented and often uttered astonishing words; these words seemed to have a hidden meaning. Curious, he asked:
"What do you mean by 'the outcome is predetermined'? Do you already know the outcome?"

Dao Yan's lips curled into a slightly mocking smile, incongruous with his age. He raised his hand, pointing to the receding army outside the mountain gate, and said:
"If it were Master leading these tens of thousands of elite warriors to Miaoxing Temple today, intending to debate the scriptures with the abbot, even if Master remained silent, and the abbot's Buddhist teachings were as profound as they may seem... how could he not be defeated?"

"You!... Sigh!"

Upon hearing this, the old monk was startled. He pointed at Daoyan, intending to rebuke him for speaking wildly, making irresponsible remarks about a high monk, and blaspheming the Buddha's teachings.

But before he could even utter a word, he was choked by the stark and cruel reality that "might makes right," and then he found it utterly absurd. He couldn't help but shake his head and smile bitterly, his laughter filled with helplessness and an indescribable desolation.

"Hahaha! Daoyan, Daoyan! You child..."

His disciple always sees things too sharply, getting straight to the essence of things. But he is so young and his mind is not settled, which is not a good thing!
The laughter subsided, and the old master's expression turned serious again, with a hint of solemnity. He looked into Dao Yan's extraordinary eyes, as if trying to pierce through his youthful skin and see the flames deep within his soul.

"Daoyan, your teacher is dull-witted and old. In this vast Buddhist teaching, what I have learned is but a drop in the ocean. What I can teach you is truly limited. Your teacher only hopes that you will diligently cultivate in the future, and when you attain the Great Way, you will strictly abide by the precepts, maintain upright conduct, and use compassion to help all sentient beings."

Do not... do not let your obsession lead you, like that benefactor Peng, into the gates of demonic possession!

This was his deepest concern as a mentor.

Daoyan's wisdom and sharpness, if used correctly, can make him a great figure in Buddhism; if he goes astray, the consequences will be severe.

Although Dao Yan was in a meditative state, he had actually overheard most of the debate between Peng Yingyu and the host.

He didn't actually agree with Peng Yingyu's overly idealistic, almost utopian, vision of salvation. He believed that Peng Yingyu relied too much on the "divine power" of Maitreya's descent and underestimated the cruelty of reality and the complexity of human nature.

But deep in Dao Yan's young heart, he held profound respect for Peng Yingyu's resolute belief that "if I don't go to hell, who will?" and her willingness to bear the burden of killing to save the people.

In his view, if Buddhism cannot solve the current suffering of all living beings and cannot deliver them from the chaos and sorrow of this world, then even if it has a thousand wonderful principles, it is nothing more than a castle in the air, a mirage.

However, he was unwilling to argue too much about such unorthodox ideas in front of his strict master.

Dao Yan lowered his eyes, concealing the strange light that flickered within them, and respectfully clasped his hands together, replying:
"This disciple will respectfully follow Master's teachings and will certainly abide by the precepts and diligently study the Buddha's teachings." The tone was respectful, but little emotion could be detected.

The old master looked at his disciple's bowed head and sighed softly.

He knew that his apprentice was determined and had strong opinions; once he set his mind on a direction, it was as firm as a rock.

At this point, dwelling on ideological differences would only create more unpleasantness. The old master then turned to the most practical issue at hand:
"Now that Benefactor Peng's army has left the temple, Hangzhou should be able to find some peace. We have been lingering here for too long, and it is time to pack our bags, prepare to set off, and return to Miaozhi Nunnery as soon as possible."

Upon hearing this, Daoyan slowly raised his head, his gaze passing over the eaves of the temple to the rows of houses in Hangzhou and the hazy mountains in the distance. He remained silent for a moment, but finally decided to express his judgment, even though it might cause his master even more worry.

"Master, in my humble opinion... I'm afraid we won't be able to leave for the time being."

"Why?" The old monk was astonished. The Red Turban Army had left, and the road was open, so why couldn't they leave? He really couldn't think of a reason.

Dao Yan did not answer directly. A vague thought lingered in his mind: too few had been killed!

After Xiang Pulue and Peng Yingyu's army entered Hangzhou, their military discipline was so strict that it was almost unbelievable—they only took money and grain from the government treasury to fund their army, and did not take anything from wealthy families in the countryside.

Besides spreading the doctrine of "Maitreya's descent to earth" and encouraging the poor to join the Red Turban Army, they refrained from wantonly killing anyone, refraining from sexually assaulting women, and refraining from plundering the people's property. They seemed to want to prove their difference from the corrupt Yuan Dynasty with an almost holy demeanor.

But this seemingly "benevolent" act was actually an extremely outdated and unrealistic idea, which sowed the seeds of the army's annihilation long ago.

Peng and Xiang's armies failed to disrupt the existing power structure in Hangzhou or reshape a new social order. The Yuan officials who had fled in panic, as well as the local powerful families and wealthy merchants who had remained cautious and timid, had their wealth, connections, and influence largely intact, like venomous snakes lurking in the shadows.

Once the main force of the Yuan army launches a counterattack, these forces will inevitably collude with each other and launch a frenzied backlash!
"I just feel..."

Dao Yan was only seventeen years old. No matter how gifted he was, he lacked social experience and could not yet clearly explain the complex political and military games and the calculations of people's hearts and minds.

Based solely on his exceptional talent and intuition, as well as his observations from the outside world of Miaoxing Temple over the past few days, he vaguely sensed that Xiang Pulue and Peng Yingyu's approach was too idealistic.

They tried to establish themselves in this most prosperous metropolis in Jiangnan, where various forces were deeply entrenched, without resorting to drastic measures to shatter the old order, relying solely on their faith in Maitreya's descent and their strict self-discipline... This was simply wishful thinking.

This is not "benevolence and righteousness," but rather "inappropriate punishment and reward," failing to adapt to local conditions and failing to understand the ironclad rule that severe punishments should be used in chaotic times.

Dao Yan hesitated, trying to find the right words to avoid appearing arrogant while still conveying his concerns to his master. Suddenly, his gaze caught something unusual.

"Master, look!" Dao Yan suddenly raised his hand and pointed towards the city.

Following Dao Yan's gaze, the old master saw thick smoke billowing from somewhere in the city, and faint, mournful cries could be heard intermittently carried by the wind. That direction was definitely not an ordinary fire.

For more than half a month after Peng's army entered the city, there was no sign of war. However, when the Red Turban Army was about to withdraw from Hangzhou, bloodshed and flames began to appear.

"Amitabha! What a sin! What a sin!"

On the 16th day of the eighth month of the twelfth year of the Zhizheng era, the Inspector General of Western Zhejiang led saltworkers from Shaoxing across the river and, together with the Luomu Camp troops, recaptured Hangzhou, causing the combined forces of Xiang Yu and Peng Yue to collapse. Dingding, the Pingzhang of the Jiangzhe Province who had previously fled to Jiaxing, and others returned with their official seals and temporarily took charge of the provincial affairs.

On August 19, Jiao Hua, the Pingzhang of Jiangzhe Province, returned from Huzhou Road with his troops and began a large-scale purge of those who had sided with the rebels. He took the opportunity to plunder the people's property and even set fire to the city to cover up his crimes.

Xu, Song, Fan, and others, who had joined the Red Turban Army and were unable to escape, were executed in accordance with the law.

The powerful figures Shi Zunli and Gu Ba once welcomed the Red Turban Army into the city, but were executed by dismemberment in the marketplace, and their property was confiscated by the county magistrate.

Mingqing Temple and Miaoxing Temple, where Xiang Pulue and Peng Yingyu stayed, were also accused of "colluding with the rebels" and "harboring traitors." They were looted by government troops, who killed monks on sight and stole anything they could find. The once tranquil places filled with the sounds of chanting were instantly turned into a slaughterhouse.

From the abbot down, more than half of the monks at Miaoxing Temple were killed or injured; the centuries-old temple was awash in blood.

……

P.S.: The accounts of Xu Song's Red Turban Army's good military discipline after capturing Hangzhou, as well as the Yuan army's frenzied purges, massacres, burning of the city, and revenge against Miaoxing and Mingqing Temple after the counterattack, are all from Tao Zongyi's "Nancun Chuogenglu" and are not fabrications by a savage.

(End of this chapter)