Chapter 423: The Heavenly Mechanism Shifts: Guanyin

Above Jiangzhou City, above the clouds.

The Golden-Headed Jieti and Silver-Headed Jieti sat cross-legged upon the clouds.

“Yin Wenjiao gave birth several days ago,” the Golden-Headed Jieti calculated with his fingers, “according to fate, the child should be cast into the Hongjiang River today, drifting to Jinshan Temple.”

The Silver-Headed Jieti nodded: “I instructed the Hongjiang water spirits to escort him along the way—no matter what, the Buddha-child must not drown.”

Both looked down at the Hongjiang River.

The river’s surface was calm, with only a few fishing boats casting nets in the middle.

Where was the infant floating in the river?

The Silver-Headed Jieti frowned slightly, opened his Buddha-eye, and scanned the entire Jiangzhou City.

When his gaze pierced through the roof of the Department Magistrate’s residence and saw Yin Wenjiao nursing a plump, white baby boy in the inner chamber, while “Liu Hong” sat in the outer hall handling official duties, the Silver-Headed Jieti’s expression changed.

“What’s going on!” the Silver-Headed Jieti leapt to his feet, his Buddha-heart trembling, “the child… wasn’t cast into the river?!”

Upon hearing this, the Golden-Headed Jieti hurried to look.

Seeing this scene, the two Buddhist guardians were stunned as if struck by lightning.

“The karmic threads are tangled…” the Golden-Headed Jieti’s voice trembled, “the Buddha-child has not entered the Dharma—our Great Journey plan… is compromised!”

The two exchanged glances, each seeing shock in the other’s eyes.

The Golden-Headed Jieti’s face grew grim; he rose abruptly.

“An anomaly! This is a monumental anomaly!” the Golden-Headed Jieti said gravely, “if the reincarnation of Jin Chanzi does not enter the river, he will never meet Dharma Master Faming of Jinshan Temple—our Great Journey plan will fail. Watch this place—I’m going straight to Putuo Mountain to report to the Bodhisattva!”

Before his words had faded, the Golden-Headed Jieti transformed into a streak of golden light, tearing through the cloud sea, heading straight for the Southern Sea.

Putuo Mountain in the Southern Sea, the Purple Bamboo Grove.

Guanyin Bodhisattva sat upon a lotus throne, holding a white jade vase, and after listening to the Golden-Headed Jieti’s report, she furrowed her brow slightly.

“Liu Hong kept the child?” Guanyin repeated softly.

She set down the jade vase, formed a hand seal, closed her eyes, and began to calculate whether any anomaly existed in this matter.

After a long while, Guanyin opened her eyes, a flicker of confusion passing through them.

In her calculation, the heavenly fate showed everything to be normal.

Chen Guangrui had indeed died at the Hongjiang ferry crossing; Liu Hong had indeed taken the official credentials and assumed office in Jiangzhou. All karmic threads were perfectly aligned, with no sign of interference by a powerful being.

The primordial bell’s supreme power to suppress time and space had completely erased every trace Su Chen had left in this matter.

To Guanyin, this was not the work of any schemer, but merely a subtle shift in heavenly fate caused by a fleeting change in a mortal’s heart.

“I cannot detect any anomaly,” Guanyin Bodhisattva rose, “this matter concerns the Great Journey—must be reported to the World-Honored One for judgment. Return and continue monitoring the Jiangzhou government office. Await my orders.”

The Golden-Headed Jieti bowed and withdrew.

Guanyin Bodhisattva stepped upon auspicious clouds, heading directly to Mount Lingshan’s Great Thunderclap Temple in the Western Cattle Continent.

Inside the Mahavira Hall, the chanting of sutras echoed.

The World-Honored One Maitreya Buddha sat upon the Nine-Petaled Lotus Throne; after hearing Guanyin’s account, his smile gradually faded.

Maitreya Buddha likewise employed his divine divination.

Vast Buddhist light illuminated the entire hall; after a moment, Maitreya withdrew his hands and shook his head.

“The heavenly fate is not disrupted; the karmic threads are not severed,” Maitreya said calmly, “Liu Hong keeping the child is merely an incidental fluctuation in the natural flow of heaven’s will. Mortal nature is unpredictable—perhaps the villain had a moment of conscience, or perhaps he has another motive.”

Guanyin Bodhisattva clasped her hands: “World-Honored One, if Jin Chanzi grows up in the Jiangzhou government office, steeped in mortal wealth and luxury, how will he ever see through the illusions of the world and return to the Buddha-Dharma?”

“If he won’t be cast out, then we’ll cast him out ourselves,” Maitreya’s eyes turned cold, his tone brooking no defiance, “Jin Chanzi must enter the Dharma—sever all mortal attachments. This is destiny, unchangeable. Go yourself. Ensure the child endures suffering and returns to the right path.”

“I humbly obey the World-Honored One’s decree,” Guanyin Bodhisattva bowed slightly and withdrew from the hall.

…

Jiangzhou Government Office—three years passed in the blink of an eye.

In early winter, a thin layer of snow blanketed the courtyard.

Three-year-old Chen Yan wore a brocade-lined little coat and ran through the snow, holding a small wooden sword.

He had rosy lips, white teeth, extraordinary intelligence, and bright, clever eyes.

“Slow down, don’t fall,” Yin Wenjiao called from beneath the eaves.

Chen Guangrui, dressed in ordinary robes, sat beside a stone table in the courtyard.

Watching his son play in the snow, a gentle smile appeared on his scarred face.

These three years, under the identity of Liu Hong, he had governed Jiangzhou with order and discipline.

He was decisive and merciless toward corrupt officials, becoming the people’s beloved “Heavenly Magistrate.”

Within the government office, he kept his vow—never once touched Yin Wenjiao.

He provided the mother and child with the finest life, spending his free time teaching Chen Yan to read and write.

Yin Wenjiao’s attitude toward him had shifted from initial terror and hatred to a complex silence.

She still hated this murderer of her husband, yet she could not deny that this villain was truly devoted to raising her son.

Chen Guangrui picked up the steaming tea on the table and took a sip.

He even began to believe that, if he were cautious enough, he could deceive heaven and earth, letting his wife and child live peacefully forever.

In early spring, all things revived.

Merchants gathered in Jiangzhou City; streets bustled with crowds.

The gates of the Jiangzhou Government Office stood wide open.

Chen Yan ran to the threshold, holding a paper kite painted with a swallow.

The two gate guards smiled kindly at the young master and made no move to stop him.

Under the Department Magistrate’s rule, Jiangzhou was so safe that doors were never locked at night—no one dared cause trouble near the government gates.

Chen Yan stood on the blue stone slabs, trying to launch his kite.

An old man, ragged and wrinkled, pushed through the crowd.

In his hand he held a string of bright red haws on a stick; he shuffled forward to Chen Yan.

“Young master, such a beautiful kite,” the old man smiled broadly, offering the haws, “would you like some? Old man gives you a string.”

Chen Yan stepped back two paces, watching the old man warily.

“I don’t eat things from strangers,” Chen Yan said, his voice childish but clear, “my father is the Department Magistrate—go away, or I’ll call the guards to arrest you.”

The old man froze, clearly unprepared for such caution from a three-year-old.

High above, deep within the clouds.

Guanyin Bodhisattva stood upon a lotus throne, expressionless, watching the scene below.

“Mortal attachments must be severed today.”

Guanyin flicked her finger; an invisible beam of Buddhist light pierced the clouds and struck precisely between the old man’s eyebrows.

The old man’s body stiffened; his eyes lost focus, their former cloudiness replaced by vacant confusion.

His reason was stripped away, leaving only one overwhelming thought: take the child.

He paid no heed to the government gates or the guards standing nearby.

He lunged forward, his withered hand clamping over Chen Yan’s mouth, snatching him under his arm.

Chen Yan never had time to cry out—he was snatched away.

The old man moved with agility impossible for his age, turning and vanishing into the dense crowd.

The paper kite fell onto the blue stone slabs.

The two gate guards stood frozen by the sudden turn of events.

By the time they recovered, the old man and the child had vanished from sight.

“The young master has been kidnapped!”

The guard’s cry shattered the government office’s peace.

Chen Guangrui sat inside the main hall, reviewing documents.

Hearing the cry, his brush snapped in his hand.

He rushed out of the hall to the gate.

Seeing the lone paper kite on the ground, Chen Guangrui’s eyes burned with rage, his heart clenched tight.

“Seal the entire city! Lock all four gates! Not a single fly is to escape!”

Chen Guangrui’s roar shook the entire street.

Jiangzhou City erupted in chaos over the kidnapping of the Department Magistrate’s son.

For an entire day and night, all three shifts of government office runners, city defense troops, and even local gangsters were mobilized.

They searched house by house, turned over every corner of Jiangzhou, checked every inn and ruined temple.

Yet they found not a single clue.

An old man carrying a three-year-old child had vanished without a trace from Jiangzhou’s ironclad net.

In the study, no lamps were lit.

Chen Guangrui sat in the high-backed chair, eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled.

At this moment, he understood.

No ordinary kidnapper could snatch a child from the government gates in broad daylight, let alone vanish completely during a city-wide manhunt.

This was surely the work of those relentless gods and buddhas.

“Is this the Buddha who saves all beings?”

Chen Guangrui clenched his teeth; blood trickled from his lips.

His fury nearly burst forth.

When he faced a life-or-death crisis, he yielded, bearing the slander of a villain, merely seeking the safety of his wife and children.

But the gods and buddhas left them not even this path to survival!

Human strength is laughably insignificant before the gods and buddhas.

Even with the authority of the Department Magistrate of Jiangzhou, he could not oppose those gods and buddhas who rode clouds and summoned mist.

Chen Guangrui stood up and walked to the bookshelf.

He turned a hidden compartment at the bottom and pulled out a purple sandalwood box.

Inside the box lay a yellow talisman, still and silent.

This was the life-saving talisman bestowed upon him by Daoist Yichen at the Pingkang Inn in Changancheng.

It was this talisman that had allowed him to live until today.

Chen Guangrui cradled the talisman in both hands.

He knelt heavily on the cold stone tiles.

He pressed his forehead tightly against the ground, tears bursting from his eyes.

“Daoist Yichen...”

Chen Guangrui’s voice was hoarse, filled with despair and hatred.

“The gods and buddhas have wronged me too greatly! I beg you... help me once more!”