Chapter 1907: [Fan Yin Si] (Lower)

Near the Sutra Pavilion, Hu Xiaotian heard footsteps ahead. Although he had changed into foreign monk attire, he did not understand the Hu language, and feared trouble if they met on a narrow path. He therefore leapt up, landing on the right roof, looking down. He saw four foreign monks marching in perfect step, forming a line and walking slowly. Their steps were uniform, their eyes vacant, each step seemingly precisely calculated, stride and rhythm almost identical.

This place was not far from the Sutra Pavilion. According to their prior plan, Hu Xiaotian was to set fire to the Sutra Pavilion half an hour after parting with Ji Feihua, not to burn it down but to draw the attention of all the monks of Fan Yin Si.

After those four foreign monks walked away, Hu Xiaotian was about to jump down when he heard a door open in the nearby courtyard. He hastily stopped and hid on the roof, looking toward the sound. He saw two people emerge from the room: one a foreign monk, the other a Central Plains person. At first glance he recognized the latter as the mute attendant of Ghost Doctor Fu Zhuo.

Yet that mute now spoke, his voice loud and full of vigor; perhaps pleased by the conversation, he let out a hearty laugh. Hu Xiaotian looked again and was certain: this fellow was undoubtedly the mute beside Ghost Doctor Fu Zhuo, who had been a complete liar from the moment they met, never speaking a word of truth.

Hu Xiaotian sighed inwardly; compared to Ghost Doctor Fu Zhuo, he was still inferior—even the doctor's disciple was this clever, easily deceiving him. In fact it was not Hu Xiaotian's fault; the other party never spoke, feigning muteness, so how could he tell?

The foreign monk led the mute toward the Sutra Pavilion. After they had gone far, Hu Xiaotian followed. For a temple, the Sutra Pavilion is usually the most heavily guarded area, housing the Buddhist scriptures, so outsiders are normally barred. Seeing the mute pass unimpeded showed how close his ties to Fan Yin Si were.

Seizing the moment, Hu Xiaotian leapt from the wall, crossing the gap between wall and Sutra Pavilion in a breath, landing steadily on the three‑tier roof like a great bird. He chose the shaded side, pressing his body against the gilt treasure vase on the roof, quickly shed his outer monk's robe to reveal the pure‑white sable‑colored tight‑fitting garment underneath, and lay on the snow‑covered roof, blending with the snow.

Hu Xiaotian chose the moment of his leap to coincide with the mute's entry into the Sutra Pavilion's gate; the mute's arrival drew the attention of many foreign monks, providing cover for Hu Xiaotian's infiltration.

The structure of the Cangshuge differed from Central Plains architecture, being a three‑tiered round‑topped building. Hu Xiaotian glanced at the sky; the appointed time was near. He moved to a deserted side, hooked his feet to the eaves and hung upside down like a bat, drew a crossbow from his waist, aimed at the vent opening, and shot—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—five phosphorus‑fire arrows in succession.

Following the little novice to the rear hall, he saw the hall shimmering, its walls crowded with countless Buddha niches, each holding an ever‑burning lamp. The little novice placed the butter lamp gently on the central Swastika Platform, then clasped his hands reverently and said, "Master, they have arrived!"

The Swastika Platform began to turn slowly, then faster, until the swastika pattern could no longer be discerned. As it turned, the platform sank, and in the center of the hall where it had stood appeared a lotus pool about two zhang in diameter, its water steaming, mist swirling.

Ji Feihua secretly thought, "This Living Buddha certainly loves mysticism—could he intend to emerge from the lotus pool?"

The little novice said, "Princess, please bathe and change!"

Xima glanced at Ji Feihua; she only knew she had come to Fan Yin Si to receive the Living Buddha's blessing, unaware of the proceedings. Previously everything had been arranged by Grand Priest Yasu, but the Yasu beside her was merely an impostor, and she feared being exposed.

Ji Feihua glanced at the little novice and asked, "Little Master, aren't you going to avoid this?"

The little novice replied, "I am about to withdraw." He stepped back gradually and soon vanished into the darkness.

Ji Feihua's awareness had already swept the surroundings; she sensed no one else nearby, and she transmitted to Xima, "Go ahead, it's fine."

Xima bit her lip; although bathing and changing was not new to her, undressing before a completely strange woman was. She suppressed her shyness, approached the lotus pool, removed her garments one by one, and stepped in cautiously. The water rippled emerald, warm and comforting; as she entered, her embarrassment and fear vanished instantly.

At that moment the formerly calm lotus pool water suddenly began to swirl. Xima startled, not yet reacting, a large hole appeared beneath the pool. She cried out and began to fall. Ji Feihua reacted instantly, thrusting out a palm; a strong suction force wrapped around Xima's lovely form, pulling her from the fall, and she unfurled a white towel to swathe Xima tightly.

With a loud "Peng!" water sprayed everywhere; in the light, the mist showed seven‑colored brilliance. Amid the drifting fog a figure flickered into view—a young, handsome monk no older than thirty, with sharp brows and bright eyes, extraordinarily handsome. He wore spotless white monk's robes, his body floating in mid‑air, his feet a foot above the ground. Though the surrounding vapor was thick, not a single drop touched him, and his appearance was unmistakably that of a Central Plains person.

Xima's shock drove out her fear; she never imagined that the Living Buddha Jialuo, worshipped nationwide by the Black Hu people, was actually a Central Plains man.

The white‑clad monk sighed, "Actually there is no real difference between life and death. You have racked your brains, but your target is certainly not the Princess. You should know I will never yield to your threats; all you're doing is trying to make me believe you're blackmailing the Princess, when in fact you're trying to enlighten her." His deep eyes fixed on Princess Xima as he asked, "Why would the Princess help outsiders harm me?"

Xima's heart leapt in astonishment; she never expected the white‑clad monk to see so clearly. She bit her lip and said, "Living Buddha, save me…" She still harbored a slim hope that Living Buddha Jialuo had not noticed the flaw.

The white‑clad monk smiled, "Everyone expects the Living Buddha to save them, but in truth no one can save you but yourself." As he spoke his gaze rested on Ji Feihua; though the words sounded like an answer to Xima, they were actually meant for Ji Feihua.

Ji Feihua stared calmly at the white‑clad monk, having released Xima. The recent danger in the lotus pool bath was merely a probe by the other party to test her background; it seemed they had long suspected her. Using Xima as a test, she had exposed her skills—and thus her identity—when Xima fell into peril.

Ji Feihua nodded. "Quite right—only oneself can save oneself." She stepped forward, placing herself before Xima, and whispered via voice transmission, "Leave this place, the farther the better."

Xima bit her lip, turned, and fled outward; her only thought was to escape quickly and meet Hu Xiaotian as soon as possible.

The white‑clad monk made no move, as if he had not seen Xima's escape; his face bore a faint smile, yet his eyes were cold and indifferent: "Benefactor, you have gone to great lengths to infiltrate the Golden Summit Great Hall—is it to see me or to kill me?"

Ji Feihua said, "The Black Hu populace probably does not realize that the Living Buddha they devoutly worship is actually a Central Plains person." She stopped speaking the Black Hu language and continued in Central Plains speech.

Living Buddha Jialuo replied calmly, "People have borders and ethnic distinctions, but where does the Buddha have such divisions? Your remark is truly laughable."

Ji Feihua said, "It seems someone really takes himself to be a Buddha."

Living Buddha Jialuo said, "Lay down the butcher's knife and you become a Buddha instantly; anyone who harbors the Buddha in his heart is a Buddha."

Ji Feihua said, "Buddhist disciples hold the four empties; if you truly consider yourself a Buddha, why can't you let go of the greed in your heart?"

Living Buddha Jialuo smiled, "Your remark leaves this humble monk puzzled."

Ji Feihua said, "If one cannot even admit who he is, what qualification does he have to enlighten the world and falsely call himself a Buddha? No matter how you change, you cannot fool me. Master Minghuai, do the people of Fan Yin Si, high and low, know that the Living Buddha they revere originally came from the Heavenly Dragon Temple?"

Living Buddha Jialuo's hitherto still eyes finally rippled; the faint fluctuation, though fleeting, did not escape Ji Feihua's keen gaze. He sighed softly, "This humble monk has long left behind right and wrong; why must you press so hard?" His words clearly admitted his identity.

Ji Feihua said, "Originally there is nothing; where could dust arise? If you did not stir up this trouble, who would think you still exist in this world?"

Living Buddha Jialuo smiled, "Soon no one will think of you." His bland, amiable smile vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling killing intent that radiated from his body, enveloping every inch of the rear hall; the ever‑burning lamps on the surrounding Buddha niches were shaken by the killing aura, their flames trembling.

Ji Feihua stood still, her gaze calm and steady; the butter lamp not far ahead burned as before, peaceful and unchanged……(To be continued~^~)

Ji Feihua stood quietly in place, her gaze still calm and composed; the butter lamp not far ahead of her, its flame as before, still tranquil……(To be continued~^~)