Chapter 184

The Iron Staff Lama immediately decided to accompany me in destroying the Demon Lord's tomb. As the Iron Staff Guardian of the Buddha Lord, subduing demons is of paramount importance. Although he had not chanted the verses of the Treasure Pearl Great King for over thirty years, this heavenly bestowal was not learned through study; upon reflection, he could still recall much of it.

I worried the lama was too old—after all, he was sixty, not like before. According to the clues in the scriptures, the shrine enshrining the "Glacial Crystal Corpse" was located on the snow-capped peak; if anything went wrong, what could we do?

The Iron Staff Lama said: "I have made a great vow to circumambulate the lake here, but that child Géma still shows no improvement. I hope this time I can perform a great meritorious deed, bringing Géma's soul back from the underworld (Tibetans believe loss of consciousness is soul-loss syndrome). After success, I will return to circumambulate the lake to fulfill my vow. For practitioners, views on death and life differ entirely from ordinary people; dying while accumulating merit ensures rebirth in the Pure Land."

Seeing the lama insist on going, I felt it was exactly what I wished for. The Iron Staff Lama is well-versed in Tibetan customs and understands Tantric medicine; with his guidance, we would surely achieve twice the result with half the effort. So we prepared ourselves, still led by Wangdu, heading for Tibet's westernmost region—the Ali area at the foot of the Himalayas.

At Sengge Zangbu, we met up with Pangzi, Uncle Ming, and others. They had also just arrived; I counted heads and seemed to have one extra person. Besides me, Pangzi, Shirley Yang, and the Iron Staff Lama, Uncle Ming's side had Peter Huang, Han Shuna, Axiang, and originally Uncle Ming's follower A Dong also came along.

I wondered how A Dong came too. Pangzi told me: A Dong usually just runs errands for Uncle Ming, but this time, knowing Uncle Ming was going to do big business, he kept begging Uncle Ming to bring him along. Eventually he pleaded with Da Jin Ya, who helped speak well for him; Da Jin Ya accepted favors and then nagged Uncle Ming, saying Tibet's lowest elevation is over four thousand meters, so one must bring someone to tend the oxygen tanks. Thus A Dong ended up carrying their oxygen tanks.

I thought: This is really lively now—more and more people, and we haven't even reached the Guge King City yet—nine people total. But there's no choice; once we find clues to the Demon Kingdom's rebirth site in the demon shrine, we must split up and act separately, not stay together all the time.

At that time, there were no passable roads to the Guge ruins, so we had to hire a few yaks for the guide, letting those with severe altitude sickness ride the yaks, fortunately without heavy supplies. We rested two days in Sengge Zangbu, a small town of only over a hundred households, then set out for the king city ruins to seek the Guge Silver Eye.

Along the way it was extremely desolate, with no human presence; sparse yellowish grass scattered across the Gobi. There was little wind; looking up at the sky, a vast blue made the dry earth and withered grass glare. Distant brown mountain ranges appeared rugged and strange, daring not to linger.

Our pace was not fast; I led the yak for the lama. The Iron Staff Lama, on the yak's back, told me about the verses he had received through heavenly bestowal—all about demons and spirits, great battles of soldiers and commanders.

At this point, some wooden stakes protruding from the ground appeared by the roadside. Shirley Yang said they looked like remnants of an ancient tomb. Hearing "ancient tomb," even Uncle Ming, who was struggling to breathe on the yak's back, perked up, craning his neck to look.

The guide said those tombs had long been abandoned, their contents gone. Don't think this place is barren and useless; actually, around the Tang Dynasty, it was piled with Qilian cypress, and the tomb structures were built using whole Qilian cypress trees. This strange tree dislikes drought and dampness, growing only on mountains at the Qinghai-Tibet border; all were gifts from Tang emperors to local vassal kings, transported over thousands of miles. But later, internal strife among the vassals destroyed these tombs, leaving ruins preserved to this day.

After passing through the ruins of that desolate graveyard, we walked about another day before reaching the ancient city. It had long been discovered; besides numerous murals, carvings, and statues, there were only the city's ruins. At the time, it did not attract attention from the autonomous county government, nor did it later have iron gates installed with guards—back then, hardly anyone would travel far to see these ruins.

Looking up from the mountain base, the slope to the summit had about a three-hundred-meter elevation drop; everywhere were building complexes and caves matching the earth's color. Except for the relatively sturdy temples, most dwellings had collapsed, some leaving only earth walls, with remnants of city walls and watchtowers around. The entire king city was built into the mountain: the summit held the palace, the middle layer temples, and below were residences and outer defensive structures.

I said to Uncle Ming: "The Guge ruins aren't that large, but these several hundred houses and caves will take us some time to search. Where exactly is the Guge Silver Eye you mentioned? Let's head straight for our target."

Due to altitude sickness, Uncle Ming's thinking had become very sluggish; after thinking hard for a while, he recalled it was probably in the temple, not the palace. According to the scriptures, there should be a "Reincarnation Temple" here, likely located there.

In the ruins of the king city, several temples stood out like cranes among chickens; at a glance, they were clearly distinguishable. Of course, among them were the Red Temple, White Temple, and Reincarnation Temple ruins, but we couldn't tell which was which, so we asked the Iron Staff Lama. Naturally, he could tell from the external structure which was the "Reincarnation Temple"; he pointed the way, and after passing through the Guardian Hall, the temple site with several red pillars was the Wheel-Turning Temple enshrining the Guge Silver Eye.

Such places had been visited by explorers as early as the 1930s, with no reported danger, but for safety, I still gave Pangzi a shotgun. I carried one myself, leading the team around layer after layer of earthen walls, climbing up to mid-slope. In these ruins, buildings were basically not preserved intact. Due to Tibet's dry climate causing evaporation, weathering intensified; if it were only dryness, it would be fine, but during the rainy season, torrential rains pour down, and year after year of weathering erosion has made the once-compact soil brittle, crumbling bit by bit; any external force turns it to dust. All protruding parts like broken walls and ruins have had their edges worn smooth; once a vibrant city, it is now silently being digested by nature.

We feared being crushed by collapsing house walls and pillars, so we tried to detour through open areas. Uncle Ming and his wife could barely manage, but frail Axiang could not take it; climbing higher would be fatal. Uncle Ming had no choice but to let Peter Huang stay below to look after her, while the rest pressed on; by the time we reached the Guardian Hall, most people were already panting like oxen.

I was somewhat used to the thin air, but while resting against the wall, I looked at the murals in the hall, and my breathing immediately became labored. Pangzi, panting, said to me: "Old Hu, I never expected this place to be a blind spot of spiritual civilization's sanitation, with such fierce pornographic images; if seen in Beijing, one would surely be detained."

The murals here are all Tantric dual cultivation of male and female; the style is bold, colors intense, making viewers blush. Going deeper, the mural content suddenly shifted to utter despair—entirely the suffering of hellish rebirth, layer upon layer depicting tortures in hell, scenes too horrible to behold. The lama said this hall had been a forbidden zone for hundreds of years; ordinary civilians could at most reach the entrance, but could not go further; aside from clergy, even the king could not enter casually.

The former glory and forbidden status have all collapsed and weathered; after catching our breath, we filed in single file. The Reincarnation Temple behind the hall, being recessed inside, suffered less wind and rain erosion, so preservation was fairly good. The most striking feature in the temple were several large red pillars, their bodies embedded with layers of lamps; the tops were already damaged, leaking several large holes. Statuary and such were gone—unknown whether stolen or rotted into soil.

I looked around; all four sides were in ruins, nowhere any "Guge Silver Eye" relief. Uncle Ming pointed upward: "Probably refers to this carving."

We looked up; at that time the sun was strong, sunlight pouring through the roof's broken holes. Looking up was slightly dazzling, eyes feeling blurred, but we could see the entire ceiling was a single vast colorful painting, half carved, half painted; although some parts had fallen off, and some damaged due to building collapse, about seventy-five percent remained preserved.

This ceiling painting: in the center is a huge eyeball; around it, a radiating totem in eight colors, each a different divine beast. Beyond that, another ring of dozens of naked sky-walking mothers, myriad forms, none alike. As expected, this is the ancient Tantric feng shui coordinate—the "Guge Silver Eye."

I said to Uncle Ming: This time we should take out that ancient scripture and let us look at it; without understanding it clearly, just having this coordinate won't let us pinpoint the demon shrine's exact location.

Uncle Ming found a red giant pillar, leaned against it sitting down to catch his breath; A Dong took out the oxygen tube and gave him a few breaths, then he could speak, reaching into his bag to feel for that scripture. At that moment came a crack— a pillar in the temple collapsed; everyone shouted, hastily scattered to dodge; the giant pillar fell with a roar; in the chaos, no one saw clearly whether it hit anyone.

It turned out the pillar Uncle Ming leaned on had already rotted at the base; usually propped there it looked fine, but once leaned on, it just toppled. Fortunately it fell outward; otherwise, the hall's narrowness would mean knocking over another pillar, surely killing someone. Seeing the roof lose a major pillar, though not yet collapsed, no one dared stay in the hall; all wanted to get out first, to a safe outside place before settling accounts.

As we walked outward, we suddenly noticed that where the pillar had knocked down an earthen wall, a huge dark space was exposed, seeming to be a sealed secret chamber. When the wall fell, foul air gushed out. It is said Italians in these ruins found many caves, varied functions; relatively famous ones are the Headless Dry Corpse Cave and the Weapon Cave storing arms, but both are far from this "Reincarnation Temple." What lies inside this temple's secret cave?

Pangzi took out his flashlight, shone it inside; everyone's eyes were instantly drawn to what was inside. On the outside was a bronze statue wearing a Buddha's treasure crown, three-eyed and four-armed, seated in lotus on a beast throne and lotus platform; its three silver-shining eyes gleamed within the golden Buddha image.

Yet behind this three-eyed Buddha statue, there was still a tightly shut black iron door, covered with countless talismanic scriptures, as if something that must not be released lay within.