It was as if an epidemic had spread, and suddenly, a wave of thump-thump sounds of people kneeling arose around him.
A dark sea of people knelt before the monk, their eyes filled with deep pleading.
“Please, Master…”
“Spare him…”
“For our sake…”
“He has truly repented…”
Countless voices, near and far, drifted into his ears like Buddha’s hidden guidance amidst the clouds.
Zifeng also knelt before him, tears streaming down his face as he said, “I know I am deeply sinful… I am willing to spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins…”
Did he really know the depth of his sins? Was he truly willing to repent sincerely?
If so, why did he choose to start aiding the disaster victims only half a month before returning home? If he were truly repentant, why must he do so in front of the entire city, appearing to repent while actually using it as a threat?
Jingshan knew that the people kneeling before him were not genuinely pleading for Zifeng. The drought might not end anytime soon, and with each additional day of suffering, countless people would starve to death. On his way here, he had seen countless corpses scattered about. These people were only afraid that if Zifeng died, there would be no one to provide porridge, and they would perish in extreme hunger.
They just want to survive.
He was a good person, yet he had to commit murder on one. Zifeng was an evil person, yet he could save thousands.
Bodhisattva and yaksha were separated by nothing more than a thin line. So who was the Bodhisattva, and who was the yaksha?
The golden sunlight filtered through the clouds, gently illuminating the earth. Countless pleading eyes looked at him, representing countless lives.
Over the years, he had traveled many places, honing his skills and practicing. The tolerance and compassion he showed were not false.
Moreover, even before becoming Jingshan, he was already a great benevolent person who supported the weak and helped those in need, kind and nurturing.
Among all sins, the sin of killing was the heaviest; among all virtues, saving lives was the greatest. A good person should sacrifice himself to save the multitude, not to mention past grievances. To abandon one’s own desires and save countless lives.
His hand gripping the meditation staff trembled slightly as he took a step back, as if trying to clear all confusion by seeing everything more clearly.
To lay down the butcher’s knife may not only be for Zifeng but also for himself.
Witnessing the teachings and assisting others with kindness brought great blessings. To lay down the butcher’s knife and save the people, one became a Buddha immediately.
The golden honeysuckle gradually grew. It broke through the mud, climbing upward, its petals unfurling. It grew larger and larger, as big as a building, and continued to expand, almost filling the entire sky. Like a giant spinning wheel of fire, it slowly revolved, engulfing him entirely.
The surroundings suddenly fell silent.
*
Within the clouds, it seemed as though the Buddha’s whispers echoed, familiar sutras floating in from afar, densely filling his ears.
“…The withered yellow flowers, they are nothing but wisdom; the green bamboo, it is all the Dharma body… Sentient beings cycle through the six realms, like a wheel with no end…”
“…All phenomena are impermanent, all is suffering. All dharmas are without self, and Nirvana is joy…”
“…The six senses make contact, contact leads to feeling, feeling leads to craving, craving leads to grasping, grasping leads to becoming, becoming leads to birth, birth leads to old age and death, sorrow, and suffering. The cessation of one causes the cessation of the others. Thus, the cessation of ignorance leads to the cessation of actions, the cessation of actions leads to the cessation of consciousness, the cessation of consciousness leads to the cessation of name and form, and the cessation of name and form leads to the cessation of the six senses… The cessation of old age and death leads to the cessation of sorrow, suffering, and affliction…”
Countless pasts, countless selves, appeared before him, like a hazy dream of the past—birth, old age, sickness, death, love and separation, resentment and conflict, longing and inability to obtain… Sentient beings suffer the pain of the mundane world, unable to escape joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hatred, and desire. However, what gathers must disperse, what accumulates must deplete, what is born must die, and what rises must fall.
All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows, like dew or lightning; one should view them thus.
Everything is illusory.
His heart became tranquil.
If one is a true practitioner, they would not see the faults of the world. If one sees the faults of the world, then they are not a true practitioner. He was willing to cultivate the Bodhisattva’s heart, to universally save all beings, and also to endure immeasurable suffering on behalf of sentient beings.
He slowly took a step back, his expression calming. The clouds echoed with melodious Vedic chants, golden light illuminating his robe, as if a carriage and music were coming to welcome the arrival of the Buddha’s child.
Jingshan closed his eyes.
The Vedic chants grew closer, surrounding him. It seemed to tell him to let go, that everything was illusory.
His hand gripping the golden meditation staff slowly relaxed, inch by inch sliding down, but just as it was about to touch the ground, it was tightly grasped by someone.
A voice said, “This isn’t right.”
The thunderous Vedic chants suddenly ceased, and the brilliant light of the Buddha seemed to pause.
The monk opened his eyes, his tone calm: “I do not wish to let go.”
*
Within the white Pagoda, the grinding creak suddenly fell silent, as if the rolling wheel had encountered an obstruction, stubbornly repeating its forward motion.
Among countless worldly scenes, countless monks with various appearances stood among the kneeling citizens. Some had serene and graceful features, others had youthful, bright eyes, some appeared cold and their voices were aloof, while others had mocking smiles and eyes filled with scorn and violence.
The Vedic chants were like a giant golden bell, suspended above the world, with profound scriptures reverberating through the heavens and the earth, as if someone was endlessly whispering the myriad phenomena of the mortal world, teaching people to discern karmic obstacles and liberate themselves from troubles.
A Bodhisattva practiced generosity, regardless of grudges or past wrongs, without hatred towards others.
It was time to let go. Letting go would lead to Buddhahood.
The person holding the meditation staff lifted his gaze slightly, his look decisively different from before.
“I do not wish to let go.”
The monk in the robe appeared somewhat blurred under the harsh sunlight, as if he had become another person. He tightly grasped his meditation staff, looking at the millions of people kneeling in front of him, at the evil person who was now begging for forgiveness, and once again said calmly, “Admit it, you are not truly repentant.”
Zifeng’s hidden smile at the corner of his mouth faltered suddenly, his movements momentarily stiffening, and his gaze towards Zanxing was filled with surprise.
Yes, Zanxing.
Year after year, life after life, she had become countless different “Zanxings,” accepting every smile and tear of each Zanxing. She had experienced hundreds of worldly sufferings, her heart gradually awakening to understanding.
To be without desire for the body, to be unattached in practice. To be without fixation on the Dharma. The past was gone, the future had yet to come. The present was empty and serene. There was no one who performed actions. There was no one who received rewards. This world remained unchanged. The next world did not transform. What law existed within this, was called the Brahmacharya.
She had become Master Jingshan, and she understood, as she had countless times before, that in this lifetime, as long as she experienced the myriad sufferings of the world and let go of attachments, she could complete the cycle and pass the trial.
This might be the result required by the Five-Wheel Pagoda trial. After countless lifetimes, practitioners gradually attained enlightenment, refining their hearts and minds. Even the most foolish person would eventually awaken through such cycles.
She understood the intention of the Five-Wheel Pagoda: as long as she let go of the meditation staff and hatred, this lifetime would be complete.
The correct answer was right before her, but she deliberately did not follow it.
Zanxing asked, “Why?”
Why should someone who had committed evil still live well? She had endured countless hardships in her life, all for revenge, and now, at the end, she was being threatened with her life, forced to let go.
Should a good person be subjected to such suffering?