Chapter 44 How Should a Buddha Seek a Mortal?

The evening bell of Pufa Temple had long since sounded, and most of the incense offerings had left. The ancient pines outside, with their gnarled branches, reached skyward like dragons, bathed in moonlight, enhancing the tranquility of the millennia-old temple. The night sky was profound, the Milky Way radiant. Wang Xuan walked toward An City, feeling uncertain; had he provoked "someone" again? He silently cursed—it was truly eerie! Once mysterious factors came into play, inexplicable, non-natural phenomena occurred. His heart raced; he dreaded the unpredictable events of the night, wishing to avoid further disturbances.

He pondered deeply: everything in the world is a balance; when one expects to gain, one must also pay a price. He actively absorbed mysterious factors, believing he was unearthing buried myths to carve a brilliant path in the realm of ancient arts. Yet, this might be perilous—a deep pit laced with enticing bait for unwary travelers, perhaps deliberately set by the ancients. 

Now, Wang Xuan had no choice but to regard the ancient beings with newfound respect; their past brilliance hinted at terrifying depths, and he began to doubt the truth of ascension. "I hope to pass the night safely!" He had left early, but returned under the stars, stopping briefly for a meal, and didn't arrive home until after nine. 

After washing up, he visualized a golden sun, its brilliance consuming the clouds and illuminating the world in peaceful light. "Evil spirits retreat!" Taking a deep breath, he lay down, quickly slipping into sleep—a benefit of practicing ancient arts, he never suffered from insomnia. 

Yet, his worries materialized; despite his efforts to channel his energy and envision a radiant sun to dispel the gloom, trouble found him. Up close, an old monk sat at his bedside, his body blackened and rotting, blood streaming from his eyes as he stared at Wang Xuan. 

Startled, Wang Xuan threw off the covers and sat up; the experience felt too real, and he could almost smell decay. Was the visitor hostile? He turned on the light and drank some water, then silently resumed his practice, certain he wouldn't find peace that night. The monk was unsettling—there was no benevolence, no holy light, only a presence of decay, entirely unlike the brilliant visions summoned by female practitioners. 

Despite their common trait of bloodied eyes, indicating some tragic fate, this old monk felt ominous. "This situation is dire; I've fallen into a deep pit without warning!" Wang Xuan rarely felt such gravity; his mood was heavy. 

He began to suspect that the truth of ascension was far more complex than his musings in the temple suggested, and the hints he had glimpsed already frightened him. Initially confident because he alone could enter the inner realm, relying solely on his strength, he now felt a shiver of fear. His extraordinary achievements might not be a blessing; they seemed to peel back the heavy, mysterious curtain of time, drawing danger ever closer.

In recent days, he had pondered how to find items akin to the Stone of Ascension to enhance his power. Earlier, he thought that any residual spiritual energy from ancient beings was no big deal, but now, he was apprehensive; if multiple mysterious events unfolded, he could end up surrounded by inexplicable beings—spiritual practitioners, fairies, monks—far from the idyllic scene he had imagined.

"This time, I haven't even entered the inner realm, and a blood-eyed monk appears. Does that mean just encountering mysterious factors will provoke unforeseen events?" Wang Xuan felt he had suffered a setback; unlike last time, when the residual energy from a female practitioner had greatly boosted his power, this monk offered nothing, instead trailing him home with a foul stench.

After a period of contemplation, he tried to sleep again. Indeed, the old monk returned, still dark and bloody-eyed, silently watching him from the bedside—an image both horrifying and still. Wang Xuan remained calm, envisioning an alter ego wielding a dark golden staff, striking the monk's head with no restraint. 

He resolved that since this lingering spiritual energy could not affect his mind, and given the monk's uninviting demeanor, there was no need to be lenient. With a loud crash, the monk exploded into particles, his eyes reflecting shock before he vanished. "If you seek help, show some sincerity! When mortals pray to the Buddha, how should the Buddha seek the mortal?" Inspired by a female practitioner's previous visit, Wang Xuan felt bold enough to demand favors from the monk.

The monk appeared dazed but began demonstrating a boxing technique, truly providing some benefit?! Wang Xuan's subconscious quickly registered the movements; it resembled the Great Diamond Fist. Although the monk struggled, he demonstrated the technique clearly, outlining how to channel force and the vibrations through his body.

The Great Diamond Fist was indeed a remarkable skill; previously, a dark-clad man had wielded it against Wang Xuan, nearly shattering his fingers. The monk, though, was faltering; as he attempted to continue, his form began to break apart. Wang Xuan awoke and stated, "If you can show me the complete technique, appear in my dreams again. If not, do not disturb my sleep. I will contemplate your situation after waking." 

Reflecting on the technique, he noted it differed slightly from the one taught by the dark-clad man; it felt extraordinary. Finally, he returned to slumber, and the monk did not reappear. 

At dawn, Wang Xuan awoke, recalling his dream, and began to practice the boxing movements. While the outer postures were easy to mimic, the internal vibrations and power dynamics proved challenging. "No rush; I'll take my time. Today, I need to visit Pufa Temple to resolve the monk's matter." He suspected the dream imagery—the departing Bodhisattva, crumbling temples, and rising Bodhi trees—were linked to real historical events. Understanding the truth would help solve the riddle of the old monk and thoroughly address this mysterious encounter. 

Early that morning, Wang Xuan returned to Pufa Temple. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice. Could it be Old Chen? Was it a hallucination? Yet, his former colleague, who had been frightened enough to run to the New Star, was supposed to stay for a while longer, according to Qingmu. 

"No, it's definitely Old Chen!" Wang Xuan was sure of his perception. 

To confirm, he quickly dashed to a courtyard, and indeed, he found Old Chen. Wang Xuan sensed an ominous aura surrounding him, especially since he was accompanied by an unresolved female practitioner. He turned to leave, wishing to avoid being dragged into Old Chen's troubles. 

However, as he turned, Old Chen spotted him and—surprisingly—ran even faster! What was happening? Wang Xuan was baffled; why was Old Chen running away instead of seeking his help with that "heavenly fairy"? 

Realization struck; the fish-loving Old Chen must have a scheme up his sleeve. Thankfully, Wang Xuan was quick on his feet and turned to pursue Old Chen. "Old Chen, I see you! Stop!" 

With the morning sun shining brightly, many had come to the temple to pray, and amid the crowd, Old Chen seemed keen to avoid drawing attention. He abruptly halted and calmly walked back toward Wang Xuan. 

"Life is full of encounters," Wang Xuan greeted him. 

"Encounters are often close at hand," Old Chen replied, appearing unruffled despite his heavy dark circles. 

"Fate is wondrous," an old monk passing by remarked, glancing curiously at them before continuing on his way.