[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful":3,"chapter-even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-chapter-9":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Even a Gentleman Must Be Careful",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2268629,4429,"Chapter 9: Nine: A Blessing Worth Ten Thousand Merits","even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-chapter-9",9,"\u003Cp>Nine: A Blessing Worth Ten Thousand Merits\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unless you live in an era where carriages crawl, you cannot fathom the agony of “from abundance to scarcity.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the days since Ouyang Rong awoke, he lived an extremely “disciplined” life:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dinner each evening, he sat in his room, lost in thought, pondering the Merit Pagoda; aside from a few Buddhist sutras borrowed from Xiu Fa, there was nothing else in the room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he pushed open the western window, outside was only black wind, with a few distant Buddhist lanterns glowing atop the pagoda.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was only one definite thing to do: sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He nearly couldn’t resist summoning Ban Xi to challenge his soft spot again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his past life, at this hour, the vibrant nightlife had just begun, and the study group friends of upstanding gentlemen hadn’t even started their speed runs yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, if one lived in Luoyang or Chang’an—the heart of the Zhou Empire—life might have been richer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If one could truly empathize with these things, then one might understand one percent of why Ouyang Rong longed for home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So now, deep in the night, Ouyang Rong, unable to sleep, stepped outside…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong first went to the right annex, rummaged out a coil of rope and a fire starter, even taking some pastries and fruit wrapped in a cloth sack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when he followed his memory back to the Beitian Charity Hospital and groped his way to the well, he found the rope unnecessary.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because a pile of soft rope ladders lay beside the well opening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong set down the rope ladder and entered the underground palace again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Same location. Same time. Same moonlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the Slender Mute Girl and the Crane-Cape Old Daoist were gone. Not surprising—they were patients of Beitian Hospital, presumably rescued, and he wasn’t here to reminisce.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tonight’s moonlight was dim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hss~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A spark flared into existence, illuminating Ouyang Rong’s gaunt face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good evening, Venerable Master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Gaunt Monk, dozing with his head nodding, jolted awake, murmured a Buddhist chant, and earnestly said: “Benefactor, this place is the Lotus Pure Land; above lies the Avīci Hell!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The monk once again assumed his familiar posture—one finger pointing down, one pointing up—in compassionate solemnity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong thought for a moment, then nodded. “Master is the only one who has always spoken truth. I misunderstood before.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked over, placed the pastries and fruit before Xiu Zhen the Monk, then held up the fire starter and circled the underground palace, carefully examining the place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The underground palace was a roughly square space, about half the size of a soccer field; the circular lotus seat at its center and the well shaft directly above it—whether they represented the builder’s belief in a round heaven and square earth, he could not say.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong walked once around the walls of the palace, and only now did he see the murals he had always overlooked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All four walls were painted with bold, vivid pigments, but years of neglect and perpetual darkness had caused much of the artwork to flake away; still, Ouyang Rong recognized the general scenes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Four murals, corresponding to four Buddhist Jataka tales: “Prince Sattva Sacrifices His Body to Feed the Tiger,” “King Shibi Cuts His Flesh to Trade for a Pigeon,” “King Kuaimu Gives Away His Eyes,” and “King Chandana Offers His Head.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Buddhist Jataka tales recount the virtuous deeds and meritorious acts of Shakyamuni before he attained Buddhahood; the most familiar is surely the first—“Sacrificing His Body to Feed the Tiger”—while the other three parables convey the same essence: emphasizing the Buddha’s boundless compassion, his countless lifetimes of endurance, sacrifice, and salvation, which ultimately led to his enlightenment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong pondered, then turned toward the central waist-tapered, inverted lotus seat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Master Shandao had not lied to him, then the late Master Zhong Ma, who achieved Buddhahood in the flesh, must have sat upon this very seat… and ascended to the Pure Land.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can accumulating merits truly enable one to ascend to the Pure Land here? If I quell the floods, or perform some other great meritorious deed, can I ascend too?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And what exactly is the Pure Land? Is it truly the Western Paradise? Or does each person go to a different place—and if I wish hard enough, can I return home?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong murmured, lowering his head into thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Also, if the body achieved Buddhahood and the soul ascended, what became of that lifelike physical form? I’d like to take a look… oh.” As he spoke, he suddenly remembered something, glancing guiltily at the half-broken lotus golden lamp nearby and the scattered peculiar oval beads on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Originally, the lotus golden lamp had been taken by Ouyang Rong from an eight-layered treasure casket; the casket had originally rested atop the lotus seat, and when he awoke, it lay beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That eight-layered treasure casket was large, like Russian nesting dolls, with eight nested boxes—the innermost containing this very lotus golden lamp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when he had tossed it aside as a convenient tool, he never realized the lotus golden lamp itself was merely a storage container, holding even more precious Buddhist relics; later, in his haste to leave, he paid no attention to the beads scattered on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cough, cough—could these be the relics of Master Zhong Ma or other high monks? That would mean they’re essentially ashes… so the lotus golden lamp is their ash urn… hey, that’s truly sinful. No wonder your merits were drained away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong sighed, lowering his gaze to the relics on the ground:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>About seventeen in total, smallest no larger than a marble, largest no bigger than a pigeon’s egg, all colors present—even one perfectly round, translucent, like a white diamond… Isn’t a relic supposed to be a kidney stone? You call this a kidney stone?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No wonder high monks are so impressive—just toss them in the furnace and anything can be burned out; it’s like opening blind boxes… No, stop. Don’t laugh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong summoned his supreme facial control skills, bent down nonchalantly, and began gathering the relics one by one—though doing so did not increase his merits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Ouyang Rong now understood one rule of the Merit Pagoda: You can be a joker, but only “think,” never “act.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Listening to hellish jokes and laughing on your face counts as “acting”—the Buddha deducts your merits mercilessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when he picked up the perfectly round, translucent relic, he noticed it glowed faintly under moonlight, like a luminous pearl; he found this curious, thought for a moment, sighed, and tucked it into his sleeve—he couldn’t leave it to gather dust in the underground palace; he would keep it for the high monks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps his heart was sincere, or perhaps these relics were truly abandoned, ownerless objects—no merits were deducted…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Ouyang Rong spotted a line of characters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He noticed them while the fire starter illuminated the relics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beneath the waist-tapered, inverted lotus seat, on the southeast side, hidden in its shadow, carved into the floor tile—it was no wonder he’d never seen it before; it lay perpetually in the blind spot where sunlight and moonlight never reached.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Return, oh return?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong crouched to examine it, and instantly recalled something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wasn’t this the phrase Master Shandao mentioned—the one his master’s master left behind before “ascending to the Pure Land”? It was still here… He’d assumed it was ink or blood writing, long washed away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The meaning of these four characters was simple: Go home!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong’s gaze sharpened; the marble tiles beneath his feet were already cold and hard, yet the four regular script characters—“Return, oh return”—were deeply incised, as if carved by a blade sharp enough to cleave iron.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unconsciously, he reached out to touch the incised characters—and in an instant, his whole body shuddered, not from electric shock, but from a distant, resonant bell toll echoing in his ears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Ouyang Rong’s mind could react, his consciousness was violently yanked into the Merit Pagoda, floating ten thousand clouds above.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong staggered to the ground, seeing the once-eternally silent Blessing Bell above now trembling faintly, purple aura surging along its surface.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like an old fisherman in a straw hat, standing to shake off a coat of snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As if a car had just been started.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simultaneously, the green-gold characters on the small wooden fish glowed brilliantly, then condensed into a glowing cluster, alive like a “swimming carp” in a pond.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It suddenly shot toward the Blessing Bell!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then… it bounced back, returning to the wooden fish, reforming into a line of green-gold characters: 【Merit: 100】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Blessing Bell continued its faint tremor of “snow,” unchanged, unharmed—as if that “swimming carp” had been too weak to stir it, let alone ring it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Witnessing this, Ouyang Rong stared blankly, slowly absorbing the shock: “Not enough merit…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The “swimming carp” formed from Ouyang Rong’s accumulated merits seemed mysteriously linked to him; after being bounced back, an arcane message surfaced in his mind: mocked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ten thousand merits are needed to ring the bronze bell and gain the Blessing’s true fruit… and I have only one hundred. Nine thousand nine hundred left. Damn.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong fell into deep thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In reality, since his hand had left the incised characters, the Blessing Bell had long since fallen silent again, and the Merit Pagoda retreated once more into the clouds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Undoubtedly, these four incised characters and the lotus seat concealed a hidden blessing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And this blessing was clearly immense—requiring such a colossal amount of merit; it might as well be enough for him to endure a lifetime of hellish jokes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ouyang Rong stared at the four incised characters hidden in shadow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Pure Land underground palace… Buddhist Jataka tales… monks who achieved Buddhahood… the blessing of ‘Return, oh return’… Are these coincidences—or is this truly… the path home?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The light and shadow on his face flickered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>",1651,"2026-06-19T21:28:25.445Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","2e773e37991c93489a864d33138a78ed5c113be3286161e3af4472a47bb88a8d","even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-chapter-10","even-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-chapter-8",864,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Feven-a-gentleman-must-be-careful-cover.jpg"]