Yan Budu, having been acupointed, couldn’t move anymore, so he simply closed his eyes and dozed off. Kongshi continued chanting scriptures for an hour before falling asleep while still seated.
The storm outside had calmed down slightly, and the cave fell into silence with only the crackling sound of the flames.
Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci, immersed in their own state of mind, didn’t truly feel sleepy. The two main characters in the memories fell into silence, once again having nothing to do.
After a while of silence, Shi Jingzhi stood up on his own, ran over to Yan Budu, and tried to snatch Yan Budu’s red jade smoking pipe like pulling a radish. However, the smoking pipe seemed to be stuck in the air, and he couldn’t even move the tassel.
“In this state of mind, everything can be touched, but the state cannot be changed.” Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi’s frustrated expression and added considerately.
“Ah, I saw that the smoking pipe had a soft fish demon eye attached to it and wanted to take a closer look.”
“No wonder the scenery here is so complete.” Yin Ci smiled.
A soft fish demon eye… This fox’s eyes were still as sharp as ever.
Soft fish demons were rare, and their fish skin could be made into “character cloths” to transmit information. The pair of fish eyes were interconnected, allowing storage and transmission of scenes. However, the process was extremely complicated and tedious, and only someone like Yan Budu, with extravagant desires, would use it as a pendant on a smoking pipe.
It seemed that Yan Budu used the demon eyes to record the surrounding scenes at all times. Whether for analyzing enemies or reminiscing about amorous encounters, he could retrieve the images afterwards, making it very convenient.
If Kongshi had given in to Yan Budu just now, with Yan Budu’s arrogant attitude, once they left this place, he would have immediately sent the footage to the entire Jianchen Temple for appreciation.
Shi Jingzhi seemed to have thought of the same thing, and his face wrinkled slowly.
He tried to pulse Yan Budu, but images were just images, and he couldn’t make out anything. Yin Ci watched as his master paced restlessly for a while before obediently returning back to his side.
“This is just a state of mind. How can even temperature sensations be restored.” Shi Jingzhi sat down cross-legged beside Yin Ci. “A’Ci, do you want to take a nap? Even if your body isn’t tired, it can help pass the time.”
Yin Ci shook his head. “If you want to sleep, then sleep.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t move, he just gazed at Yin Ci by the flickering firelight.
As if he wanted to engrave him in his heart with his eyes.
“From the first encounter with the Chigou Sect assassin, to the Ghost Tomb, Yuanxian Village, and now… A’Ci, you seem to fear nothing and know everything.”
Yin Ci regarded it as another attempt to probe him. “What about it?”
“It’s really good to have you by my side. I feel very at ease. If I had fallen into this place alone, I would definitely be completely lost and scared to death.” Shi Jingzhi didn’t ask any further and just expressed his feelings.
He no longer referred to himself as “Master*”, and his tone was calm and sincere.
*Clarity: Previously, Shi Jingzhi would refer to himself as Weishi or Shifu (depending on context) but is no longer using those titles.
Yin Ci silently looked back at him.
Shi Jingzhi rubbed his hands together and smiled. “At first, I thought you were just an ordinary villager, and then I thought you were a skilled person with a hidden identity…”
“Now what?”
“A’Ci has a decent appearance and a temperament that suits him perfectly… Are you an immortal who has come to accompany me on my final journey?”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t look at Yin Ci, but instead gazed at the snowstorm outside the cave. The flames cast an orange glow on the rocky walls. They were immersed in a long-gone era, completely detached from the mortal world, with only the two of them in boundless solitude.
In a place like this, neither gods nor Buddhas could be seen. It felt like they could say anything, and all desires could be understood.
Yin Ci: “Shizun, you are just physically weak, and your mind has become confused.”
“But I have never felt so at peace.”
“Aren’t you afraid that I have ulterior motives?”
Shi Jingzhi laughed heartily, which was an uncommon sight. “The Buddha Heart Formation has awakened me. Besides my own life, I have nothing else to offer. What can you possibly gain from me?”
Yin Ci fell silent.
Looking at the smiling face of this person, he had a fleeting thought of wanting to escape. There was more than one person in the world who could use yang fire, and there were others who sought the Shirou, not just Shi Jingzhi.
He wasn’t bound to him.
It was the opposite of Shi Jingzhi. As time passed, Yin Ci felt as if he had drawn the worst lot. There was a moment when he suddenly understood the helplessness of Yan Budu when faced with Kongshi.
If Shi Jingzhi were an ordinary person, he could have observed coldly, using him mercilessly until the end. But Shi Jingzhi wasn’t an ordinary person.
How many years of waiting was his remaining year of life worth? How long could his sanity hold on for that fleeting glimpse of radiance under the setting sun?
Would he give up using this person for the sake of that tiny warmth of vitality?
…It truly gave him a headache.
Yin Ci reached out his hand and gently placed it on Shi Jingzhi’s head. The latter trembled, almost blurting out “no sense of propriety”, but managed to hold it in at the last moment.
In his state of mind, this person was also warm and tender. Yin Ci couldn’t help but lower his gaze—Shi Jingzhi hadn’t realized until now, when they were so close, who was borrowing whose body heat.
‘Very well,’ Yin Ci thought. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time. There’s still a long road ahead.’
However, before he made a final decision, if this person wanted to sincerely exchange hearts, he would give a few points in return. It wasn’t impossible.
“Nothing at all? Shizun, that’s not true.” Yin Ci breathed a sigh of relief, and his tone became relaxed but not frivolous. “This disciple can still gain something from you.”
Shi Jingzhi choked for a moment and playfully tapped the back of Yin Ci’s head. “Have you been possessed by Yan Budu? Nonsense is pouring out of your mouth.”
In the next moment, both of them burst into laughter. Shi Jingzhi lay down again, resting his head on Yin Ci’s leg, and his long hair flowed like running water, spreading across the ground. This time, he didn’t fall asleep. His amber eyes remained clear and transparent. “Since we can’t sleep, let’s chat. Last time, I told you so many stories. This time, it’s your turn, A’Ci… As a knowledgeable disciple, you must have many tales.”
As he said the latter half, he adopted a playful tone, unable to contain the laughter in his voice.
Yin Ci narrowed his eyes at him. “Shizun, I am particularly good at ghost stories. The atmosphere is perfect right now. Do you want me to tell you a few to pass the time?”
Shi Jingzhi: “…”
Shi Jingzhi: “Dear disciple, spare me, please.”
As a result, Yin Ci still couldn’t manage to tell ghost stories to Shi Jingzhi. They chatted, sometimes with purpose and sometimes aimlessly, and they comfortably passed the night without any guard.
Morning arrived, and the blizzard continued. The second day began with Yan Budu’s cordial greeting—
“Venerable, I really love this face of yours. I really want to find an excuse to peel it off and put it in my immortal tomb.”
Kongshi was carefully slicing mushrooms. “Your praise is excessive, Patron.”
After cooking mushroom and vegetable porridge, Kongshi removed Yan Budu’s acupoint restraint and pushed the first bowl of porridge toward him.
Yan Budu picked up the bowl of porridge, smiling like a poisonous flower. “Speaking of bald-headed monks, I’ve killed nearly a hundred of them. Some ‘eminent monks’ would weep bitterly on their deathbeds and even be willing to lick the soles of my boots, just to beg for their lives. Kongshi, those monks who died so tragically would be so disappointed if they saw how you behave.”
Kongshi smiled kindly, without a trace of anger in his eyes. “Patron, is one bowl not enough?”
Yan Budu: “…” He silently pushed the empty bowl back, starting to suspect that this monk had a problem with his ears.w
However, he never gave up easily. After finishing the meal, Yan Budu once again provoked Kongshi. He roasted his damp boots and pressed his bare feet against the monk’s chest. “Bald donkey, stop chanting scriptures and play chess with me.”
Kongshi raised his eyes.
Yan Budu twirled his red jade smoking pipe, dispersing his true qi. He carved a chessboard on the hard rock, then enveloped his true qi around scattered gravel, rolling them around randomly. When they stopped, they had formed perfectly round game pieces.
With a flick of his sleeve, Yan Budu brought the stone chessboard to the center of them, and the stone pieces were divided into two piles. Yan Budu made a cut on his injured arm, and fresh blood flowed out, staining his nearby pieces a dark red.
Dark red against ash gray—a clear contrast between white and black.
Yan Budu licked his wound and lightly kicked Kongshi. “Everything is ready. Let’s play chess.”
Kongshi grasped Yan Budu’s ankle and pushed his leg away. “Very well.”
Yan Budu’s smile became even brighter. “Since we’re discussing victory and defeat, why not make a little wager? How about this, after each game, the loser cuts off a finger. Plain porridge makes one’s mouth taste bland, but adding some meat wouldn’t be bad.”
With this proposal, there was no room for negotiation. Kongshi sighed and ignored him.
Seeing the excitement, Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci joined them and took their seats in front of the chessboard. Little did they know that within half an hour, this game of chess would turn into a game where one person tormented three others.
It was because Kongshi made his moves extremely slowly. It was so slow that, in comparison, even his chanting of scriptures seemed passionate and thrilling.
Yan Budu himself initiated the game, so even if he had to grit his teeth, he had to finish it. In order to undermine Kongshi’s authority, even if he felt drowsy, Yan Budu still forced himself to stay alert and kept talking.
“Venerable, your moves are grand and powerful, with the strength of a thousand catties. But why is the chessboard sticky and full of greed for life and fear of death, reminding me of the time I dueled with Su Zhi?”
Yin Ci: “…”
A hundred years ago, although they were evenly matched, he really didn’t want to let go and fight Yan Budu. It wasn’t that he feared for his own life—it was because if Yan Budu discovered his immortality, it would bring about endless troubles.
However, with Shi Jingzhi listening on the side, even if he was completely clueless, Yin Ci felt a subtle sense of embarrassment.
Fortunately, Kongshi saw through the situation. “Perhaps Patriarch Su simply doesn’t want to deal with you and is showing you the way out.”
Yan Budu: “How do you know?”
Kongshi smiled gently. “Empathy, treating others as oneself.”
“Indeed, in that case, I will say a little more.” Yan Budu sneered, but before he could continue, he coughed up another mouthful of blood.
Kongshi, holding the chess piece, paused in mid-air. “Would the Patron like me to diagnose your condition?”
“No need. I have seen all the famous doctors in the world. Since childhood, I have had strange illnesses that no one can cure… Except for the horrifying blood vomiting, nothing else matters.”
Yan Budu’s face turned pale, his lips stained with blood, and his appearance was extremely enchanting, causing people to involuntarily avert their gaze.
However, Kongshi fixedly stared at him, as if looking at a wounded deer or an elderly person coughing up blood.
“Amitabha.” After a while, Kongshi shifted his gaze away and made another move.
Yan Budu wiped away the fresh blood and laughed. “Compared to my own illness, you should be more concerned about something else—your intention to bring me back to the Jianchen Temple and keep me imprisoned for a lifetime. Unfortunately, in case I fail to achieve immortality, my life is already coming to an end. It’s a pity that you are trapped in the wind and snow, mired in the mud, all for nothing.”
“Even if Patron can only live for one more day in the dungeon, the victims can witness Patron’s fate with their own eyes, and the rest of your life won’t be tormented by inner demons.” Kongshi joined his palms together.
“Victims? Monk, do you know why I spent ten years building the Ghost Tomb, yet the righteous path only recently started to besiege my sect?”
Yan Budu’s smile grew increasingly intense.
“It all started with ten taels of silver. I discovered that with just ten taels of silver, I could buy a person’s life—some were willing to sell their family members to me, some were willing to sell themselves for the sake of their families, and there were even those who wailed and fought for the dead, but once they received the silver, they fell silent. Later, the prices varied for different people, but the willingness to fight and endure remained the same.”
“The closure of the Ghost Tomb involved too many people, with a lot of troublemakers. You all barely managed to come up with the label of ‘tyrannical and ruthless’ to settle old scores.”
Kongshi remained silent.
“People are born with inherent differences in quality; it’s fate. Most people in the world are as foolish as pigs and as simple-minded as dogs. The lives of animals are cheap, so if I want to kill them, I kill them. It’s just following the will of heaven.”
Kongshi raised his eyes. “Inherent differences in quality? Children are naive, the elderly are confused, yet they live longer than you, Patron. Why do you only mention one aspect and not the other?”
The monk’s tone was gentle, as always.
“Furthermore, sheep eat grass, and tigers eat sheep. When a fierce tiger meets its end, its corpse is devoured by the grass. The cycle of karma is the way of heaven. Patron, you are also among sentient beings. There is no need to belittle them so lightly.”
Yan Budu raised an eyebrow. “It’s only natural for tigers to eat sheep, so what crime have I committed by killing children and women?”
The monk’s eyelids remained motionless. “If Patron deems yourself innocent, then you are innocent.”
“I thought I was going crazy, but you, baldy, are even crazier than me.”
“The burden of guilt is in the mind of Buddha; one can only reflect on oneself. However, regardless of Patron’s thoughts, being able to play against me here has its causes and consequences, and the retribution isn’t pleasant.”
Kongshi pointed to his giant sword and smiled even more calmly.
“Patron sees sentient beings as pigs and dogs. From what I see, Patron is no different from pigs and dogs, and can hardly be considered worse than them.”
Yan Budu: “……”
Suddenly, Shi Jingzhi flinched, and Yin Ci turned his head. “What’s wrong?”
“A’Ci, Venerable Kongshi isn’t just making empty remarks. He truly believes in what he said.”
Yin Ci furrowed his brow—if Shi Jingzhi could see it, then Yan Budu would definitely see it as well. In a sense, the compassion of sentient beings was also a form of ruthlessness.
Yan Budu’s plan to disrupt the monk’s chess game with his menacing aura seemed to be falling flat.
As expected, Kongshi calmly placed a chess piece on the board. “The cycle of three calamities. Will the Patron give up the struggle of the calamities*?”
*Clarity: There’s a double meaning here. Note while it’s translated as chess, they are actually playing Go. In the case of a three calamities, it is referring to a triple ko where it’s basically a draw. Theoretically, when a situation like this happens, the game can continue forever, endlessly in a cycle. Applying this to Buddhism, it refers to the three calamities sentient beings undergo through their existence (basically the cycle of life). You can read more about it in my Kinky Thoughts. || In this context, Kongshi has set the board to be a draw, creating a triple ko, and asking Yan Budu, are you giving up (both in the game and spiritually as applied to Buddhist theory).
Yan Budu remained silent, neither uttering a word nor showing any signs of anger, as if he were calculating something.
Seeing that the opponent didn’t respond, Kongshi stopped playing. “Then let’s call it a draw. We’ll play again another day.”
Finally, Yan Budu slowly lifted his head, and his pair of crimson eyes seemed to ignite. He stared fixedly at Kongshi, and a twisted smile gradually appeared on his face.
“Interesting. I must defeat you once. Monk, I have decided to claim your head.”
Kongshi replied politely, “This humble monk needs to keep his head for chanting scriptures. I apologize for not being able to offer it to you.”
After that, Yan Budu refrained from making any comments about the past. For some reason, the Demonic Lord intentionally restrained himself, and from the way he treated Kongshi, he even seemed somewhat normal.
In the following days, whenever they had free time, the two of them would play chess while discussing the situation of the martial arts world and analyzing various techniques. Surprisingly, their conversations flowed smoothly and harmoniously.
However, in every game during those few days, the monk’s chess speed was as slow as a snail, yet he managed to create various extraordinary situations. They played strange and peculiar tactics, and neither of them held back.
But Yan Budu didn’t show any signs of frustration; instead, he appeared to be quite enjoying himself.
As time passed, Yan Budu’s injured arm gradually recovered. One night, he proposed an idea that invigorated the spirits of the Kushan Sect master and disciple. “Kongshi, I’ll accompany you outside tonight. I need to get some meat. I’ve been eating porridge for so long, and my wounds are healing too slowly.”
“Your injuries haven’t fully healed, Patron.”
“No choice then. Since you won’t cut off your arm to feed me,” Yan Budu joked.
“Patron, offering oneself to feed a tiger is only done for a female tiger with cubs*. We, as Buddhist monks, don’t feed tigers at will.”
*It comes from a story in the Sutra of the Wise and the Fool which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts. In this context, he’s saying one doesn’t offer to sacrifice oneself (feed a tiger) unless there’s a proper justification (female tiger with cubs). The TLDR of the story is: A prince saw a tigress who was starving to the point of death and had cubs. He decided to sacrifice himself in order to feed her and her cubs.
“So I can only hunt for food myself. It’s truly lamentable.”
When they were about to leave, Shi Jingzhi’s whole being was radiant. However, after he pulled Yin Ci along and followed, his enthusiasm couldn’t withstand the cold for more than the time it took to burn three incense sticks. Outside the cave was even colder than inside. Although the snow had stopped, everything was still covered in a vast expanse of white, lacking magnificent scenery. The wind carried snowflakes that slapped against their faces, and Shi Jingzhi was immediately chilled to the bone.
“Yan Budu is really… Last time, I made a mistake while cultivating my kung fu and suffered inner force obstruction. When the cold wind blew, I coughed up blood and couldn’t sleep.”
Shi Jingzhi shrank his neck, feeling a sense of sorrow.
“He wants to eat meat, I understand, but is he really in such a hurry?” Yin Ci tightly grasped Shi Jingzhi’s wrist, but his gaze never left Yan Budu.
Shi Jingzhi suddenly realized and immediately took in a breath of cold air.
Yan Budu wasn’t just playing chess in the cave; his real-life chess game had also begun. Wrapped in a fox fur coat, he stared intently at Kongshi, who was using the Nightmare Breaking Technique to break through the illusions. Even though the cold wind was cutting, he didn’t even blink his eyes.
Yan Budu was secretly learning the Nightmare Breaking Technique.
It was too similar. Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi beside him, who was completely focused and absorbed in the Nightmare Breaking Technique. Their expressions were so alike, reminiscent of the time when Shi Jingzhi secretly learned the Green Maiden Sword Technique beneath the Ghost Tomb.
…It was truly uncanny.
Whether it was the symptoms, aptitude, or the resentment towards all living beings, they were strikingly similar, almost too coincidental. Yin Ci had walked the world for hundreds of years without experiencing reincarnation. So there’s only one possibility.
In this world, there was something he had yet to discover.
Yan Budu and Shi Jingzhi undoubtedly belong to some kind of similar existence.
Kongshi formed an invisible formation, using true qi instead of a copper hammer and iron bowl to activate the formation. Even though the blizzard was obscuring their surroundings, the monk swiftly turned. Even though the inner force movements were extremely complex, his coordinated hand movements were incredibly exquisite. After a dazzling display of the Nightmare Breaking Technique that left people dazzled, Yan Budu’s mouth slowly curled into a smile.
He had learned it.
And the sole reason Yan Budu kept Kongshi around was for the Nightmare Breaking Technique.
To him, Kongshi was no longer useful.
The author has something to say:
Surprise! The leader of the Ling Sect actually carries a camera with him.
…But without a camera, we would have to switch to a first-person perspective. In fact, when I imagined Shi Jingzhi’s annoyed face, I had images of a subway, a fox, and a smartphone in my mind.jpg
————————————
Demonic Lord Yin: The fox has softened, and my heart has softened too. Well, let’s avoid it for a while (?
Fox Shi: The plan is a go (×
Kinky Thoughts:
In Buddhist philosophy, the three cycles of calamities refer to the belief that sentient beings are bound to undergo three major calamities or sufferings throughout their existence. These three calamities are birth, aging, and death.
The concept of the “cycle of three calamities” reflects the Buddhist understanding of life’s inherent sufferings and the impermanence of existence. It highlights the fundamental truths of impermanence, suffering, and the need to seek liberation from the cycle of birth and death through spiritual practice and enlightenment.
What Kongshi did (quite brilliantly) was set up the game as a triple ko to show Yan Budu this figuratively and literally (in the game).
————
The story of feeding a tiger from The Sutra of the Wise and the Fool.
In the Buddhist scriptures, it is said that there were three princes in the king’s chariot of the Kingdom of Bo Deng in India. One day, they went hunting together in the mountains and saw a mother tiger with several hungry tiger cubs. The mother tiger was so famished that she wanted to eat the tiger cubs. The third prince, Sariputra, saw this and sent away his two elder brothers. He went to the mountain and laid down in front of the mother tiger, but the hungry tiger had no strength to eat him.
Sariputra then climbed up a hill, injured his body with a sharp stick, and jumped off a cliff, allowing the mother tiger to drink his blood. After drinking the blood, the mother tiger regained her strength and, along with her cubs, ate up all the flesh from Sariputra’s body.
The two elder brothers couldn’t find their younger brother and searched along the way until they finally found Sariputra’s remains. They quickly returned to the palace to inform the king. The king and the queen rushed to the mountains, embraced Sariputra’s remains, and wept bitterly.
They then gathered the remains and built a stupa for worship. Sariputra, who willingly sacrificed his own physical body to save the life of the tiger, is the previous incarnation of the Buddha Shakyamuni.
Depictions of such acts of enduring humiliation, self-sacrifice, and various virtuous deeds from the previous lives of Shakyamuni Buddha are known as Jataka tales.
