"Kill the Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult! Avenge our senior brothers!"
In an instant, the monks were overcome with rage and swarmed forward to attack. Qin Mu furrowed his brow slightly, his body swaying as the Thousand-Hand Buddha erupted. Buddhist light surged to blinding heights, and the resonant sound of Buddhist chanting filled the Heavenly Dragon Hall, deafening in its intensity.
Qin Mu stood like an immovable great Buddha, meeting attacks from every direction head-on. Boom after thunderous boom rang out without cease as monks were sent flying in every direction, crashing into the dragon pillars. Some pillars snapped on impact, breaking into three or five pieces.
Qin Mu gave a shake of his body, and the thousand arms before and behind him vanished, along with the Buddhist light that had moments ago blazed forth.
Qin Mu glanced at the monks strewn across the ground in disarray, flicked his sleeves, and said: "This is the Eight Thunder Moves of your Great Thunderclap Monastery. Is this also a demonic technique? A technique is righteous when used righteously, and demonic when used with malice. Even the Eight Thunder Moves, even the Tathagata Great Vehicle Sutra — when wielded by the wicked, they become demon arts!"
Old Ma coughed and said to the stunned old monk Jingming beside him: "Brother, your Heavenly Dragon Hall is in quite a state. Perhaps we should take a stroll over to the Inner Zen Hall instead."
Old Monk Jingming glared at Qin Mu, seething inwardly. Most of the monks Qin Mu had struck down or killed were his own disciples, but with Old Ma and the Blind One standing right beside him, he did not dare make any rash move.
Especially that blind man beside him. Though the sockets of his eyes were completely empty, the moment he so much as considered a move, he felt a wave of killing intent pour from the blind man's body, always circling around his own throat.
If he truly dared to strike, that blind man's bamboo staff would pierce through his throat the very next instant.
The Tathagata Great Vehicle Sutra he practiced had a flaw — right at the throat, a weakness he could never remedy.
The other old monks in the Heavenly Dragon Hall likewise dared not move. Standing beside Old Ma and the Blind One felt to them as though two Mount Sumerus were pressing down upon their bodies — one wrong move and they would be crushed to dust!
Cold sweat beaded on Monk Jingming's forehead. "Junior Brother," he said, "your disciple killed my monks in the Heavenly Dragon Hall, and destroyed the Hundred Dragon Images..."
Old Ma said nothing.
The Blind One stood at ease, leaning on his bamboo staff. "Brother Jingming," he said, "the dismantling of your Heavenly Dragon Hall today is a mess of your own making. Had you not pointed out that Mu'er is the Cult Master of the Demon Cult, none of this would have happened. Don't make this bigger — the bigger it gets, the harder it will be to put back together."
A drop of cold sweat slid down Monk Jingming's brow. He cleared his throat, his voice ringing like a great bell. "Cult Master Qin is a guest who has traveled far. All monks shall refrain from reckless behavior. Withdraw, all of you."
The moment these words left his mouth, the other monks in the Heavenly Dragon Hall felt a great weight lift from their shoulders. They hurriedly helped the fallen monks to their feet.
"Mu'er, come back," said Old Ma.
The Blind One smiled. "You've had your fight, smashed your fill, and said your piece. We are guests here after all — we shouldn't be too presumptuous. Old Ma says we should go take a stroll at the Inner Zen Hall. Come on, then."
Qin Mu acknowledged the order and bowed to the young monk Mingxin. "Little monk," he said, "if things don't work out for you at the Great Thunderclap Monastery, you're welcome to come find me at the Heavenly Demon Cult."
Mingxin looked confused. "Why wouldn't things work out for me? My master treats me well, and my fellow disciples take good care of me too. I won't turn from the righteous path to evil. And you — you should stop being the Demon Cult Master as well. Isn't it better to abandon evil and embrace goodness as soon as possible? The Buddha teaches: the sea of suffering is boundless, but turn back and you will find the shore..."
Qin Mu shook his head and spoke with solemnity. "You are a true monk. But sometimes the true monks are not tolerated by the false ones in the monastery. When the monastery can no longer hold you, you must go out into the world to seek your own True Nature, your own Great Awakening. Read fewer sutras. Those who compiled the sutras were rarely Tathagatas themselves — if they could not become Buddhas, how can they guide you to Buddhahood? Destroy the Buddha in your heart. Destroy the Great Thunderclap Monastery in your heart. You yourself will be your own Buddha, the world will be your Great Thunderclap Monastery, and all living beings will be your dharma friends, your fellow practitioners."
He extended a finger and touched it to Mingxin's chest, over his heart, smiling gently. "In here," he said, "dwells a true Buddha."
Then he touched another finger to the space between Mingxin's brows. "And in here," he said, "dwells a false Buddha. Do not let faith become your demon — your shackle, your barrier of perception. What you should do is stand before heaven and earth with a clear conscience."
"Place a set of scales in your heart and let it be your principle — use it to weigh good and evil, right and wrong, the righteous and the wicked, Buddhas and demons. Go out and walk the world. Watch what people do, not what the sutras say. Sitting in a monastery thinking about good and evil and dreaming of Buddhahood — that will never get you there."
A thunderclap seemed to ring through Mingxin's mind. He stood in deep thought.
Qin Mu turned and walked toward Old Ma, bowing in greeting to Old Monk Jingming and the others. "I apologize for the disturbance, reverend masters. I have disrupted your peace."
Monk Jingming and the others returned the bow. "The Demon Cult Master is too kind," they said. "Their cultivation is insufficient. The Cult Master is too steeped in demonic nature, too skilled at ensnaring hearts, and strikes far too ruthlessly. He is a born old demon."
Qin Mu shook his head. "My cultivation of the heart is shallow. When others try to kill me, I can only fight back. Your heart-cultivation is said to be profound, reverend masters — when someone tries to kill you, do you fight back as well?" With that, he drew the Shao Bao Sword with a resonant clang, his gaze anything but friendly.
Old Monk Jingming and the others let their gaze fall upon the gleaming blade, each slowly shaking their heads.
Sheathing the sword, Qin Mu let out a breath and laughed. "I thought you accomplished monks had transcended the fear of life and death, of honor and disgrace. It turns out you're just like me — worldly souls weighed down by too much demonic nature. I shall take my leave. Grandpa Ma, Grandpa Blind One, what kind of place is the Inner Zen Hall?"
Old Ma led them outward. "The Inner Zen Hall is where the Great Thunderclap Monastery tempers the heart. Cultivation there is different from here. A monk must first cultivate the heart. In the Inner Zen Hall there are many monks who practice the silent vow — they do not cultivate speech or tongue."
The Blind One relaxed and grinned. "Not cultivating speech sounds good! That way, when you tell them how monks behave in reality, they won't lecture you on the dharma. You tell them to reform the monastery rules, they preach dharma at you. You reason with them, they preach dharma. You try speaking dharma back, they start throwing fists. Just the simple matter of unity of knowledge and action — these Buddhists can't manage even that."
Old Ma hesitated, then stopped. "Then perhaps we'd better not go to the Inner Zen Hall after all."
Qin Mu was surprised. "The monks in the Inner Zen Hall are like that too?"
Old Ma shook his head. "The Inner Zen Hall also has monks who don't practice the silent vow. It's a good thing you came along. If I'd come alone, they would surely have nagged me nonstop. And you — you're the Demon Cult Master. They'll want to lecture you even more. When they can't out-talk you, this scene in the Heavenly Dragon Hall will simply play out all over again."
The Blind One shook his head. "Then we'd better not go. Most of the monks at the Great Thunderclap Monastery are false monks. Those who are consistent in word and deed, who achieve true unity of knowledge and action — there are precious few. The moment you say something they don't like, they'll start arguing with you. And making someone truly concede in their heart is the hardest thing of all. They can't break through their barriers of perception. They always love to take a simple truth and make it so complicated it spins your head around. And if you follow their line of argument, you've already lost."
Old Ma said: "No matter how beautifully you state a principle, it's still just a principle. In the end, what matters is what you actually do. In this world, there are very few true monks. Most are false. Those who open their mouths with elaborate speech and endless quotations from the classics — every last one of them is fake. They know how to show off but not how to practice. If even one in a hundred is genuine, you should count yourself blessed. The Tathagata has grown old and negligent in his teaching. In recent years, it seems his will has outpaced his strength."
He was not usually one for many words, but revisiting this familiar place had loosened his tongue without his noticing.
Monk Jingming and the others watched them walk away, exchanging bewildered glances.
"Wicked. This Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult is truly wicked."
One old monk sighed. "If the Tathagata keeps him in the monastery, I fear it will bring no blessing to our Great Thunderclap Monastery."
Another presiding monk said: "I cannot fathom why the Tathagata wishes to keep him. He is the Demon Cult Master — which Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult has ever been easy to deal with?"
Old Monk Jingming spoke: "There is no need for wild guessing. The Tathagata's intention is to immerse him in the Buddhist dharma, to let him know the vastness of the Buddha's teachings, to abandon evil and embrace good, and to take refuge in the Buddhist path. The Tathagata originally had his eye on this boy and wished to take him as a disciple. Unexpectedly, the Ancestor of the Heavenly Demon Cult got there first and snatched him away."
The old monks were startled. They knew Jingming's deep bond of master and apprentice with the old Tathagata meant nothing was kept from him. "Such a thing exists?" they pressed.
Old Monk Jingming continued: "That Kshiloro staff was the token of their bond. Who would have thought he would casually give it away to a monkey? The Tathagata took this as a sign that their karmic connection had been severed, and so did not seek him out. In truth, the Tathagata's wish to keep him runs to a second layer. With this Cult Master Qin, the Heavenly Demon Cult shows signs of a resurgence. The Cult Master is closely allied with the State Preceptor of Yankang. During the recent snow disaster, the Cult Master demonstrated extraordinary foresight, commanding the entire Heavenly Demon Cult to aid the emperor in relief efforts. With the emperor and the State Preceptor of Yankang as his allies, the Heavenly Demon Cult will surely rise to power across the land."
The faces of the old monks changed drastically. Stamping their feet, they cried: "How can this be allowed?"
Old Monk Jingming continued: "If this Cult Master Qin were kept here at the Great Thunderclap Monastery, the Heavenly Demon Cult would lose its leader, and the momentum of resurgence would be broken. Demons would wane, and Buddhism would flourish — that would be a blessing for our Great Thunderclap Monastery. Even if the Heavenly Demon Cult sought another Cult Master, they would likely never find one as exceptional as this. As for the third layer of meaning..."
The Buddhist light in his eyes flickered between brightness and darkness as he spoke in a low, distant voice: "It is about the next Tathagata. The old Tathagata did not have the courage of the Heavenly Demon Cult's Ancestor — the audacity to choose a brash young boy as his Cult Master. He still favors Ma Wang Shen, believing Ma Wang Shen is the most suitable to inherit his mantle. What a pity..."
The other old monks exchanged glances and sighed in unison: "What a pity."
Little Monk Mingxin wandered over in a daze. "Master," he said, "I..."
Old Monk Jingming saw that his spirit was adrift and tried to comfort him: "Good child, you have been bewitched by the words of the Heavenly Demon Cult's Master. Demons are most skilled at ensnaring the human heart — and this is the Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult himself."
"But... I feel what he said makes sense..."
Old Monk Jingming burst into hearty laughter. "Good child, our monastery's sutras contain many discourses on how to refute the words of demons. Go and read what the predecessors had to say, and you will resolve this confusion yourself — you won't need me to guide you."
Mingxin remained unsettled.
Old Monk Jingming frowned, knowing the impact Qin Mu had made on the young monk was too great. Perhaps giving him something to do would keep his mind occupied. "First go tend to your fellow disciples," he ordered, "then raise the dragon pillars. Though they are broken, they can still be mended."
Mingxin acknowledged the order and hurried to help his fellow disciples in the Heavenly Dragon Hall, tending to the injured. But the monks would not give him a kind look — each one flicked their sleeve and drove him away.
Mingxin stood dazed for a moment, then went to raise the toppled dragon pillars. Several monks came over and shoved him aside.
Mingxin pushed his way forward, but some unknown monk slapped him to the ground. He sat there on the floor, staring blankly at everyone around him. Then, silently, he rose and went to the scripture library to read the sutras. But the truths within those scriptures would not sink in.
Old Monk Jingming was also helping to restore order to the Heavenly Dragon Hall when he suddenly noticed Mingxin walking down the mountain with a small bundle on his back. His heart stirred, and he called out: "Mingxin — did you bring the sutras with you?"
Mingxin stopped. "Master, I have brought the Heart Sutra."
Old Monk Jingming nodded. "Then go down the mountain. Turn back soon. The sea of suffering is boundless, but when you turn back, you will find Mount Sumeru. You will find the Great Thunderclap Monastery."
Mingxin knelt and kowtowed twice to his master, then turned and left.
Behind him, the great bell of the Great Thunderclap Monastery began to toll. The sun hung high in the heavens, and its light cast the little monk's shadow down the mountain, stretching it long.