Chapter 1397: Chapter 86: What Kind of Indian Power Fantasy Is This? (Part 3)
It was obvious; that was exactly the target of the mad elephant.
But the flower girl was utterly terrified by the imposing giant elephant, frozen in place like a sifting sieve.
The dust stirred by the elephant’s trunk had already hit the girl’s face, and those around feared getting caught in the chaos, not daring to step forward and stop the mad elephant; they had already scattered and fled.
A tragedy was about to happen.
At this moment, Siddhartha sprang from the shadow beneath the Bodhi Tree without hesitation, with courage and will that surpassed ordinary people, standing in front of the mad elephant.
With only this single thought left in his mind, he suddenly lifted his hands, gripping the trunk with his left hand, supporting the elephant’s belly with his right, his feet cracking the ground, his robe billowing like clouds.
Accompanied by a thunderous shout, the massive elephant, weighing over ten thousand pounds, was tossed over the towering palace wall of the Royal City like a clay pot, landing into the moat outside the city as gently as a lotus falling into water, creating ripples.
“His Highness the Prince! His Highness the Prince saved us!”
Among the crowd, some sharp-eyed members of the Shakya clan recognized Siddhartha’s identity and couldn’t help but cheer in excitement and admiration.
Siddhartha suppressed his inner doubts, smiled and waved, calming the agitated crowd.
Then, he bent down to pick up a basket of scattered fresh flowers, looking gently at the frightened little girl before him, saying:
“Young lady, I’ll buy all your flowers; you’ve been very scared today, go home and rest early.”
Seemingly touched by this gentle demeanor, the little girl’s pale face gradually regained color; she nodded obediently and then turned and ran into the crowd.
The matter seemed resolved perfectly, but…
Siddhartha looked down at his own hands and the ground where his feet had sunk several meters deep, showing confusion.
I’m just an ordinary person trained in warrior skills; when did I become so strong?
As he pondered endlessly, the extraordinary strength that could crush a mountain peak instantly disappeared, flowing toward a point within the crowd.
Siddhartha turned his head to see a young man standing beneath the Bodhi Tree where he had been, smiling and waving at him.
Behind him, a man and a woman stood reverently, appearing as loyal subordinates.
Siddhartha, with some understanding in his heart, took the initiative to step forward and ask:
“Judging by your attire, you don’t seem to be Shakya clan people?”
“We are from Punjab. This is my master; he is a great sage of Jainism and happens to be practicing here recently.”
Poros took the initiative to step forward and introduce to Siddhartha.
Siddhartha’s eyes lit up, then he folded his hands and asked:
“Master, I’ve recently wanted to use meditation to calm the distractions in my mind, seeking liberation, but why can’t I always achieve it; please enlighten me.”
“Can meditation solve the matters of the mind, can it solve the matters of the world?”
“What you think of is the world, what you see is the multitude of beings. Yet here, killings continue, injustice prevails, and all are sinking into the sea of suffering. Can you keep your heart from seeing just by closing your eyes? If your heart is unsettled, how can you calm down?”
Upon hearing the person’s explanation, Siddhartha suddenly gained clarity.
But at the same time, the sorrow on his face grew even more intense.
As the master said, there are too many people suffering in this world; even if he doesn’t look, how can he not think?
Luo En looked at the desolate Royal City and the indifferent Shakya clan people, shaking his head and sighed:
“Meditation, meditation, this method is merely blending in with the commonplace. Like a small boat on a river, it can only save oneself, cannot save others, nor can it elevate the dead to transcendence, cure the great illness of the world.”
Siddhartha was initially a bit disappointed, but then seemed to think of something, his eyes lit up, burning towards the figure before him:
“How should one use the Mahayana Method to save all beings, please teach me, master!”
A subtle, unreadable smile flickered at the depths of Luo En’s eyes, then he folded his hands and said:
“I dare not presume to teach; let’s just verify our studies with each other.”
——He is indeed a master, always carrying a humble and devout heart like a student.
Siddhartha was filled with emotion, more respectful towards the person before him, then sat upright under the Bodhi Tree.
A debate about [salvation] thus began.