Chapter 134: Bestowing the Dharma, the Monk Speaks

Passing by the pillar gate outside the well, Wugu, having just been granted his new name, rubbed the back of his neck. He had often heard that immortal masters, especially those of the heterodox Buddhist sects, delighted in hiding profound enigmas within their speech to test the wisdom and spiritual clarity of others, using such moments to bestow opportunities.

After returning to his dormitory in the temple, Wugu’s heart burned with fervor. Without consulting the other young mountain calves, he privately gathered ten thousand talisman coins—several large chests full—and hauled them directly to the stone niche outside the well. Yet, before the stone niche, despite Wugu’s fervent devotion, the little immortal gave no further hint.

Dejected and spiritless, Wugu returned to the temple, hiding in his room to ponder the mystery, but he found no way forward. He was sharp-minded, which was why he had been able to serve before the old ancestors, and he knew well that he had no future here, merely destined to be a jailer for generations. Those with ambition should emulate the old ape of Fire-Ruins Cave or the Tiger and Snake generals of Yellow-Lantern Cave, seeking a post or a position as a registered disciple under a righteous master.

"Three strikes!"
"Three strikes!"

Feeling his own wit insufficient, Wugu took a gift and cautiously approached a meditation room. "The old ancestor says the Great King is of profound wisdom, well-versed in both Taoism and Buddhism, and possesses a grand background. This little demon has a confusion and has come specifically to ask for the Great King's guidance."

Wugu spoke with great humility, carefully placing the gift inside the room. After a long while, a voice drifted out: "It must be regarding that little Taoist."

Wugu’s eyes lit up. "The Great King truly knows all things." He then recounted the incident where he had been struck three times by the plum branch.

"Plum blossoms gain their fragrance through bitter cold. The bitter cold is the ordeal; the fragrance is the true dharma. Striking you three times signifies that only after passing through three ordeals and three sufferings can one bloom to see the Buddha and attain the marvelous fragrance of the true dharma."

Hearing this, Wugu felt as if a cooling nectar had been poured over his head. He panted heavily, bowing low: "I am most capable of enduring hardship. Never mind three ordeals—I can bear ten or a hundred, provided I can obtain the true dharma." He began to sob, his sincerity moving the Great King inside.

"What exactly are these three ordeals?" Wugu asked.

After a long silence, the Great King replied slowly: "I do not know. I do not know. You must realize this yourself."

Wugu felt as if the other had spoken, yet said nothing at all. Seeing the gift already inside the room, he felt a sudden urge to take it back. Leaning against the door, the Toad Monster opened his wide mouth, twiddling a hand-fork while glancing at the night sky outside. He laughed casually, "It’s also possible he wants you to go find him at the third watch of the night!"

Wugu’s eyes brightened, and he immediately set off.

"I just said that for fun; he actually took it seriously," the Toad Monster muttered, stunned.

"A good method, a clumsy method—they are all methods, all opportunities. This little demon is interesting. That little Taoist has quite a unique eye!" The Yaksha King looked at the Toad Monster and said, "For a Taoist like that, simple gifts will not suffice. This time, bring him the scroll of talismanic charts."

"The one we showed the Mountain Calf Master before?"

"Do we have a second one in our possession?!" the Yaksha King countered. "The dragon can be hidden or manifest, great or small; it is the master of gods, the deity of the waters. Ask yourself, beneath the three heavens, who does not wish to become a dragon? The Mountain Calf Master wants it, and this little Taoist surely wants it too."

At the hour of the Rat, the third watch.

A cold wind blew tirelessly. Ji Ming looked in surprise at the Ox-grandson who had arrived right on time; he truly had not expected this little demon to penetrate his hint. It was a pity the Ox-grandson was not Wukong, and he was not the Patriarch. However, since there was an affinity, Ji Ming would not be stingy with a method.

Watching the nervous and expectant Wugu, he first asked a question: "Ox-grandson Wugu, do you desire freedom, or immortality?"

If the Ox-grandson had said immortality, Ji Ming would have bestowed the Moon-Worship Method; if he sought freedom, he would lend him the Flying Fire Ruler.

Hearing this question from the little immortal, Wugu replied without hesitation: "Freedom. Freedom." In his view, with freedom, immortality would naturally follow.

Ji Ming pointed to the Flying Fire Ruler stuck in the ground within the niche. "Do you see this ruler?"

"A fine ruler, a fine ruler! It bears the true charts of the constellations and is carved with flaming spiritual patterns; it seems naturally formed. It must be a spiritual artifact of great quality."

"Do you recognize the constellations upon it?"

"I do not, I do not," Wugu said, feeling constrained.

"This is the Star Chart of the Ancient Lodgings, one of the constellations in the Yellow Heaven. The era of its appearance was exactly the time when your kind were at their most free. You need only hold it, offer a sincere prayer, and then perform the rites as you hear them dictated; a path to great freedom will naturally be transmitted to you."

Wugu did not question him, only bowing: "Immortal Master, may I try?"

"Please, try."

Wugu carefully picked up the ruler. Sure enough, a sound rang in his ears—a hissing, the hiss of an ancient serpent, seemingly explaining to him a method for opening an altar and making offerings. He listened, entranced, dancing and gesturing.

The greatest ability of this Flying Fire Ruler was to serve as an artifact for summoning the "Dharma-Thought of the Ancient Lodgings." However, since Ji Ming was a member of the Azure Heaven Taoist lineage, it was inconvenient for him to be linked with the Ancient Lodgings. Since he had an affinity with this Ox-grandson, he would lend the ruler to him to summon the Dharma-Thought, allowing him to study the Demon Path and gain great freedom, while he himself would take the opportunity to collect three thousand Dharma-Thoughts.

Summoning three thousand Dharma-Thoughts—this meant he would not just be transmitting the Tao to three thousand spirits, but to three thousand spirits capable of opening altars and summoning saints. He had not forgotten how, on Flowing Fragrance Peak, those spirits had used blood altars and human sacrifices to manage to summon a single Dharma-Thought.

Perhaps, with this ruler personally bestowed by the Ancient Lodgings' Dharma-Thought, the Ox-grandson could save some effort. These were not things he needed to consider. After lending the ruler, Ji Ming gave a few more instructions and clarified the implications, leaving the Ox-grandson to weigh them himself. He was no longer who he had been; there was no need for deception, and his actions ought to be more magnanimous and grand. If the Ox-grandson had no intention of joining the Yellow Heaven or cultivating that Demon Path, he could naturally return the ruler; Ji Ming would simply be a little later in gathering his three thousand Dharma-Thoughts.

After the Ox-grandson left clutching the ruler, Ji Ming counted the talisman coins again. This bitter, frozen land now seemed like a treasure trove to him. Several large plates of precious shells and pearls, and several large chests of talisman coins—he was no longer lacking in cultivation resources.

One after another, Void Warriors were refined. Some were lodged within his acupoints to drive the circulation of true energy, while others leaped outside his body to hide in and around the temple. Now, in this temple, even a temple mouse stealing oil would be detected by the Void Warriors.

Within the Yang Scripture, ten, twenty, thirty acupoints had been opened one by one. Driven by the true energy of the warriors lodged within, the charging of the acupoints faced no obstacles. As long as spiritual energy was constantly added and the true energy was sufficient, breaking through a hundred acupoints in a day was no dream. Following this progress—one hundred and three acupoints opened in the Yang Scripture and thirty-three warriors refined—he would complete the initial stage of "Six Senses Vibrating" in another month or so.

"Heavenly Man!"
"Heavenly Man!"

Several gusts of cold wind carried the words of the monk Huijin from beneath the well. "I know what you want to know. Give me another jar of wine, give me another roasted chicken, and I will say anything, I will say everything."

"Finally," Ji Ming thought.

With a thought, the private stock of wine in the temple was brought jar by jar, and roasted chickens were taken and tossed down into the well. The monk Huijin no longer looked human; he was like skin stretched over bone, without an ounce of lean meat left on him. Had it not been for his second-stage Qi-refining cultivation, he would have died in the well long ago.

"The enemy? The weakness?" Ji Ming asked from above the well.

The monk Huijin only cared about gorging himself. His belly swelled bit by bit, his stomach churned violently, transforming the food into essence and energy to replenish the Three Flowers atop his crown and refine true energy.