Chapter 84

Chapter Eighty-Five: The Sky-Reaching Great Buddha Temple

"Partridge Whistle" didn't understand geomancy secrets, so he didn't grasp the latter half of Elder Dust's words, and thus asked: What is the "One-Eyed Dragon"?

Elder Dust looked at the moonlight above and said: "Beneath this place, there is indeed a branch vein split from the Helan Mountains, truly a hidden divine dragon, but its size is extraordinarily small, and only the acupoint at the dragon's head can gather qi and retain wind, hence it is called the One-Eyed Dragon, or the Dragonfly Touching Water."

Purple Qi Three Stars: if its form is beautiful and fresh, it signifies a loyal and righteous gentleman; if its form is tall, mighty, and imposing, it signifies respected military authority. Purple Qi like a tree most fears branches running wild, mountain形 slanting and rugged, a swollen face, a shattered mountain peak—all these are evil omens; burial here often produces those who defy ethics and rebel against superiors.

Due to the Black Water River changing course, this site's formation has long been broken; the treasure eye on the dragon's head has instead become a malignant growth. If someone is buried here, it will indeed bring serious trouble, as the latter said. Having finished, he pointed to the hook-shaped cold moon in the sky and continued: "Look again at that moonlight—we left without checking the almanac, little did we expect tonight is precisely the moon's great rupture; when the moon suffers great rupture, even bodhisattvas must close their eyes."

"Partridge Whistle" was highly skilled and bold, and with the thousand-year-sought "Dust Pearl" possibly lying beneath the Sky-Reaching Great Buddha Temple, he could wait no longer. He said to Elder Dust: "Legend says beneath this temple lies an empty tomb; since it is an ownerless grave, I thought we need not judge by ordinary standards. Allow me to use the Whirlwind Shovel to open the robber's tunnel, take what we need, and return—we shall be cautious, and surely no mistake will occur."

Elder Dust thought it reasonable—he had indeed been overcautious. This tomb was used by the Western Xia as a treasure vault; since there is no owner (no corpse within), we need not follow convention: no need to worry about extinguished lamps, crowing chickens, or taboos like "three takes, three not takes," "nine digs, nine not digs." He nodded in agreement.

"Partridge Whistle" took from his bundle a hollow copper rod, its interior containing a mechanism, the shaft worn bright by handling, its age unknown. He also produced nine wave-shaped blades forged from refined steel, inserted like petals at the rod's front end, where a dedicated slot with a spring lock held them fast once inserted.

Finally, "Partridge Whistle" attached a joystick to the copper rod's rear, assembling the "Whirlwind Shovel"—a tool for digging tombs, extensible and retractable, with adjustable bore diameter.

"Partridge Whistle" operated the Whirlwind Shovel, digging underground, while American Father Thomas helped move the excavated sand. Father Thomas, helpless, worked while complaining: "Wasn't it agreed beforehand that I'd be released upon arrival? I didn't expect you to saddle me with all these side tasks—know that in the West, priests are God's servants, and clergy need not perform manual labor..."

"Partridge Whistle" and Elder Dust also didn't understand the American's rambling, so they ignored him, focusing entirely on digging with the Whirlwind Shovel. After about the time to smoke a cigarette, the shovel struck the temple roof tiles—large sheets of green-scaled glazed tile, with eave tiles carved with arhats, far from ordinary roofing, clearly the main structure of a great temple.

Because Father Thomas had once stepped on a Buddhist hall here and fallen in, breaking through so quickly was no surprise to "Partridge Whistle," though he secretly felt a surge of joy.

"Partridge Whistle" lifted over ten green-scaled glazed tiles from the sand pit, tossed them aside, lowered a horse lantern by rope, and saw beneath layer upon layer of beams the magnificent Mahavira Hall. "Mahavira" is the Buddhist honorific for Shakyamuni's moral power and virtue, meaning the Buddha is as fearless as a warrior, possessing boundless power to subdue the "Five Skandha Demons, Affliction Demons, Death Demons, and Heavenly Son Demons." The lantern couldn't see far, but directly below lay the main image: the "Three-Body Buddha." According to Buddhist doctrine, the Buddha has three bodies—Dharma, Reward, and Manifestation—also called the Three Embodiments: the central figure is the Dharma Body Vairocana Buddha; left, the Reward Body Rocana Buddha; right, the Manifestation Body, i. e., Shakyamuni Buddha. Before the Three-Body Buddha stand opposing cast-iron clay "Welcoming Buddha" statues; to the sides sit statues of Manjusri and Samantabhadra Bodhisattvas.

Western Xia Buddhism flourished, so this hall surely isn't small. "Partridge Whistle" nodded to Elder Dust, signaling descent. He usually preferred solitude, wanting to go alone, but Elder Dust feared traps and hidden doors in the treasure vault—things best handled by "Grave-Seeking Majors"—so he insisted on accompanying "Partridge Whistle" for mutual support.

Thus, each took a "Heart-Threading Ginseng Hundred-Herb Pill," washed down with a vial of "Heaven-Supporting Dew"—secret medicines to prevent fainting in stagnant air. They hung the Grave-Seeking talisman on their wrists, covered their faces with black cloth, wore water-fire shoes, gathered their tools, and prepared to descend.

"Partridge Whistle" suddenly remembered the American priest still loitering nearby—Father Thomas, though not evil, would be a risk left above while they worked below. If he harbored ill intent, it would be troublesome; better to bring him down. If he obeys, fine; otherwise, let this foreigner trigger the tomb's mechanisms.

"Partridge Whistle" made up his mind, dragged Father Thomas over, prepared to feed him the secret medicine to bring him into the vault. Father Thomas refused outright, believing they meant to poison him with Eastern mystic toxins, clapped a hand over his mouth—but "Partridge Whistle" ignored his thoughts, jabbed a finger into his ribs, and Father Thomas cried out in pain, allowing the pill to be shoved into his mouth. He tried to vomit but couldn't, so he helplessly gazed skyward: "Oh, merciful Lord, forgive them—they know not what they do."

Without hesitation, "Partridge Whistle" shoved Father Thomas into the breach in the Buddha hall's roof, produced the Flying Tiger Claw to lower him. Father Thomas gasped: "These barbarous Easterners gave me poison and still aren't done—now they want to play some strange trick? Are they going to bury me alive?"

Elder Dust interjected: "This foreign monk, rest assured—I and you are both monastics; the Buddha is infinitely compassionate. We monastics take mercy as our root, kindness as our heart—we do not harm ants when sweeping, nor moths near lamps. Naturally, we will not harm you. But our work is secret; we cannot leak a whisper. So please accompany us; upon success, we will surely send you back."

Father Thomas, hearing Elder Dust, felt somewhat reassured, thinking: however it's said, Chinese monks count as clergy; I've never heard of clergy committing murder. So he allowed "Partridge Whistle" to use the Flying Tiger Claw to drop him through the breach into the Buddha hall.

Elder Dust and "Partridge Whistle" followed, descending into the Mahavira Hall, lit the horse lantern, and shone it around—indeed, a grand and splendid Buddha hall. The Buddha's Dharma Body was adorned with gems, gold and brilliance radiating; on the high seat and lotus pedestal, the sacred countenance was solemn; thirty-six massive pillars supported the hall, extremely sturdy.

Seeing the Buddha's sacred appearance, Elder Dust immediately knelt and bowed, chanting the Buddha's name. "Partridge Whistle," formerly a false Daoist, now in lay attire, also knelt and bowed, praying for the Buddha's manifestation to bless his clan's escape from the boundless sea of suffering, his heart utterly sincere.

After their rites, they rose and surveyed the surroundings—the front hall had collapsed, utterly impassable; the side halls, each housing countless arhats, were also half-collapsed. Those arhat statues were exquisitely luxurious, materials and craftsmanship of the highest order, each priceless, revealing the strength of Western Xia's state and the flourishing of Buddhism.

Yet these Buddha images differed somewhat from those "Partridge Whistle" usually saw in temples—he couldn't pinpoint how, only felt their forms were strangely odd.

Elder Dust told "Partridge Whistle": "The Western Xia people took the Tangut as their core; the Tanguts originated in Tibet, later aided the Tang in expanding territory, earning great military merit, and were granted the imperial surname Li. As a minority people, and with Tibetan Buddhism influenced more by India than inland China, these Buddha images wear Tang dynasty garb, their forms closer to Buddhism's original source, unlike inland temples where Han cultural influence runs deep—hence the slight discrepancy."

"Partridge Whistle" and Elder Dust agreed: the Western Xia treasure vault should lie near the Mahavira Hall, possibly even within it—since a tomb was dug beneath the temple, and tombs must be placed on auspicious geomantic sites, and this vein's acupoint is tiny, so the search should focus on the hall's vicinity.

Father Thomas followed "Partridge Whistle" as they wandered the hall, growing ever more puzzled: how in this barren wasteland could they casually dig and uncover a temple? Earlier, in the side hall, he'd glimpsed those exquisite arhat statues—familiar, like the cave he'd fallen into years ago, now inaccessible if he tried to return. How could this old monk gaze at the stars and locate it so precisely? The mysticism of this Eastern world was overwhelming. Father Thomas now felt renewed awe toward Elder Dust and "Partridge Whistle," daring not to speak further.

The three circled the Mahavira Hall twice, nearly every brick and tile turned over—yet no treasure vault entrance appeared.

"Partridge Whistle" said to Elder Dust: "No anomaly in the main hall; let's try the rear hall."

Elder Dust nodded: "Since we've come this far, don't rush—search front to back carefully. This place is called the Sky-Reaching Great Sleeping Buddha Temple, so the rear hall must enshrine a reclining Buddha—let's go look."

In the passage connecting to the rear hall, painted was the Song dynasty "Ritual to Buddha" scene, lotuses scattered throughout, viewing it brings tranquility, transcendence, washing away worldly thoughts.

Having long accompanied Elder Dust, "Partridge Whistle" had heard much Buddhist teaching, his aggression greatly diminished. Now in this underground Buddhist holy ground, he suddenly felt weary, a vague disgust toward grave-robbing, wishing only to smoothly find the "Dust Pearl," complete the task, then join Elder Dust in ancient temples to cultivate and spend his remaining years.

But this thought flashed and vanished—"Partridge Whistle" knew better than anyone: now was no time for laxity; he must focus all power on finding the Western Xia treasure vault's entrance.

As they walked and thought, they reached the rear hall—surely as Elder Dust expected—even more magnificent: a colossal stone Buddha adorned with seven treasures, lying sideways in the hall.

Ordinary great reclining Buddhas are carved from mountain contours—some from reshaped mountain ranges, others naturally formed Buddha-like shapes—vast as heaven and earth, minute as a mustard seed, vast without exterior, minute without interior—all symbolizing the boundlessness of the Dharma.

Yet this reclining Buddha in the rear hall, compared to those shaped from mountain ranges, is much smaller—but compared to a man over one meter tall, it appears huge, its length exceeding fifty meters, large ears drooping, asleep upon the lotus pedestal.

Flanking the Sleeping Buddha Hall stood two giant celadon vats, filled with solidified "Yuchen Longyan Gao"—this lamp oil can burn continuously for over a hundred years without extinguishing, used in the Buddha's eternal crystal lamps, though now the oil is gone, the lamps dark.

The Sleeping Buddha Hall also bore many stone steles, carved with exceedingly complex Western Xia script, likely Buddhist allusions. "Partridge Whistle" turned every which way, finally fixing his gaze on the great sleeping Buddha, and said to Elder Dust: "This sleeping Buddha's posture is wrong—I suspect something hidden within."

Elder Dust studied it long, then agreed: "Hmm… you've noticed too—no surprise, given your skill in Moving Mountain Splitting Armor. This Buddha's head is a mechanism—apparently the treasure vault's secret passage connects here. I can't yet fathom the mechanism's structure; actuating it may be dangerous."

"Partridge Whistle" acknowledged, clasped his hands, bowed twice to the sleeping Buddha, then leapt onto the Buddha platform, seeing a faint seam on the Buddha's lips—seemingly openable—something only a Grave-Seeking Mountain expert would notice.

The Buddha's mouth likely is the passage entrance; once triggered, it may release flying darts, hidden arrows, etc. "Partridge Whistle" examined it thoroughly, now understood the mechanism fully: the entrance should hold no hidden weapons, only a sleeve-tube interface. He summoned Father Thomas to help, and together they manipulated a layer of petals in the lotus platform's center.

With a loud "Crack-crack-crack," the sleeping Buddha's vast mouth slowly opened, facing the main gate, revealing a vertical shaft in its throat, its walls fitted with a suspended ladder for descent.

Father Thomas watched, bewildered, repeatedly exclaiming how miraculous—this time, without "Partridge Whistle" lifting a finger, he eagerly volunteered to climb into the shaft to see what lay within.

"Partridge Whistle" knew this treasure vault was originally a Western Xia minister's tomb, later concealing the court's rare treasures; if it were just a grave, fine—but storing such precious goods demands deadly mechanisms. Sending Father Thomas in first to wait, or to his death, he disliked—Father Thomas was decent, and "Partridge Whistle" couldn't bear to let him die in the tomb passage, so he held him back, had him follow, with Elder Dust bringing up the rear, descending in that order.

Western Xia ancient tombs are special—almost untouched by grave robbers, their interiors unknown to all, only known to be deeply influenced by Han culture; thus, one must enter and proceed step by step by experience. Elder Dust knew "Partridge Whistle" was an expert in Hill-Breaking Splitting Armor, with him leading the way, step by step securing the path, ensuring no mistake.

To test airflow below, "Partridge Whistle" gave the horse lantern to Elder Dust, himself attaching the phosphor tube to the Diamond Umbrella—a "Grave-Seeking Major" shield against tomb projectiles, made of steel bones and iron leaves, impervious to even the strongest mechanism.

The phosphor tube is a device combining air-quality testing and illumination; in modern terms, it's like bioluminescence—fireflies or glowing sea creatures. Inside: ground human bone powder mixed with crushed mugwort and tinder; when lit, it emits a blue, cold ghostly light, lasting half an hour when full.

"Partridge Whistle" used the phosphor tube for light, descended with the Diamond Umbrella shielding him via the Flying Tiger Claw along the ladder, soon feeling chest tightness—this lower space is sealed; without the secret medicine, he'd surely suffocate, faint, and fall to his death.

"Partridge Whistle" asked Elder Dust and Father Thomas above how they were—whether they needed to surface first, wait for air to replenish, then descend. They signaled all was well, this was still tolerable, already over halfway down, so continue to the bottom.

"Partridge Whistle" and company descended the shaft for about the time to finish a cup of tea—(one cigarette: three to five minutes; one cup of tea: ten to fifteen minutes; one meal: twenty to thirty minutes)—and reached the bottom.

Around the shaft's base were cold, dry stone walls. "Partridge Whistle" raised the phosphor tube and turned—suddenly, silently, a gold-helmeted, gold-armored warrior turned from opposite, brows furrowed, eyes glaring, without a word, raised his great axe to cleave, aiming for "Partridge Whistle"'s head.