Chapter 180: Eerie

Xiangyang City, inside a tavern.

The lanterns flicker, casting a dim gloom.

It remains the same spot as this morning; Mu Nianci props her right hand on her cheek, sitting silently by the window, gazing absentmindedly at the fireworks in the distant night sky.

The dazzling, multicolored light, amid the explosions, blossoms like a dreamlike flower, fully reflecting in the girl's clear pupils by the window.

After an indeterminate while, two slow, heavy footfalls echoed from the stairs, shattering the second‑floor hush.

"Father? What's wrong with you?"

Mu Nianci's anxious voice rang through the quiet tavern.

Seeing her old father Yang Tiexin swaying, aided by an old monk as he ascended, she snapped back to herself and rushed over to support him.

But as soon as she grasped his hand, her slender nose twitched lightly, her brows furrowed, and her voice bore a hint of reproach and anger: "Father, your wound hasn't healed yet why are you drinking? Where is Yang Kang? Did he leave you?"

Clearly, the anger was aimed at the latter.

When she returned to the tavern at dusk, Mu Nianci heard the innkeeper say the two had left together, so she sat by the window and waited until now.

At this moment only her drunken father came back; it was obvious he had been rejected by Yang Kang for kin recognition.

Yang Tiexin, upon hearing it, fell silent, his drunken face clouded with sorrow.

Then, as if remembering something, he hurriedly steadied himself and told his daughter: "Nianci, quickly brew a bowl of tea for this master, and also... also bring a tael or two of silver for the master."

Though he had little silver, Yang Tiexin did not waver and made the decision.

In the present Song dynasty, a tael of silver equals three guan of copper cash, i. e., three thousand wen, enough for him and his daughter for an entire month.

In truth, Yang Tiexin cared little about the money; if it's gone, he could earn more.

But tonight the kin recognition failed, and that wretched one set a trap, nearly leaving him stranded in another tavern; how could he not be heartbroken? Obeying her father's command, Mu Nianci asked no further, helped him to the table, cast a curious glance at the old monk, poured each a bowl of tea, then went to the guest room to fetch the silver.

"Master, please sit!"

Seeing the old monk still standing by the table, Yang Tiexin staggered to his feet and greeted.

"Amitabha~"

The old monk pressed his palms together, uttered a Buddha's name, and slowly sat opposite Yang Tiexin.

If one constantly worries, worry only deepens. If one loves sleep, sleep only expands. If one constantly troubles, trouble multiplies. Why must the devotee be troubled?

The old monk smiled kindly, his eyes warm as winter sun, and slowly spoke to Yang Tiexin.

Yang Tiexin heard the words, his spirit jolted, as a marvelous tone instantly entered his mind; after meeting the monk's gaze, his eyes stared blankly, unable to shift.

He seemed to see the sun.

"Master knows my heart's sorrow?" Yang Tiexin asked softly, his eyes suddenly clear, no trace of intoxication.

The old monk nodded gently and said slowly: "The Buddha says all dharmas are empty, yet cause and effect are not. I, a humble monk, see you bound by cause and effect, the toxin of delusion deep; since you cannot liberate yourself, why not transcend?"

"Transcend?" Yang Tiexin murmured.

Then, with a devout expression, he slowly clasped his hands: "Please, Master, enlighten me, how may a disciple transcend?"

"All forms are illusory; return to my Buddha, only then can one transcend," the old monk intoned like a sutra.

"May I, in my next life, when I attain Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi, my body radiant, illuminating infinite worlds, with the thirty‑two great..."

"May I, in my next life attain enlightenment, my body like crystal, clear inside and out, light vast, merit towering..."

The old monk's face was benevolent, his lips moving toward Yang Tiexin, his tongue blossoming like a lotus, radiance dazzling, like the Buddha smiling while holding a flower.

Gradually, Yang Tiexin's face grew vacant, his eyes lost their sheen, and after slowly rising, he approached the table and bowed deeply to the old monk.

"Please, Master, help the disciple transcend!"

"Father!"

After Mu Nianci retrieved the silver and stepped out of the guest room, when she saw the scene from afar, she let out a gasp and hurried over.

"Father? What's wrong with you?"

But after lifting Yang Tiexin, however much she shook him, his eyes remained dazed, unmoving.

"Who are you! What have you done to my father!" Mu Nianci, startled and angry, looked up and shouted at the old monk.

"Amitabha~" The old monk clasped his hands again and uttered a Buddha's name.

But to Mu Nianci, it sounded like a demonic chant, her mind flooded with myriad Buddhist and demonic utterances, as if countless high monks and Buddhas were pouring doctrine into her.

Recalling the scene she had just witnessed, Mu Nianci was startled, quickly bit her tongue to avoid the old monk's eyes, and after regaining herself, sweat already dotted her forehead.

"Is this a soul‑capturing technique?"

Mu Nianci's complexion turned pale; she suddenly recalled the jianghu legend of a demonic art that can control hearts and souls.

"Female devotee, why not let go of attachment and become a Buddha instantly?" the old monk whispered.

"Demon monk!" Mu Nianci shouted.

She tried to pull her old father back, but found him standing dumbfounded, unable to move, only standing vigilantly beside her.

Hearing the rebuke, the old monk's face stayed kind, his smile unchanged.

Yet in this flickering, endless dim light, a strange aura seeped through, making Mu Nianci feel a chill in her heart.

"Boom~"

At that moment, a violent door‑kicking sound erupted from below, causing the old monk's expression to momentarily freeze.

Then rapid footsteps clattered up the stairs, accompanied by Yang Kang's curses: "Yang Tiexin! Come out! Little master has your silver! After you scrounge, I'm done with you! From now on, stop pestering me!"

"Huh~ is that you?"

Running to the second floor, Yang Kang scanned the room, saw the old monk at the table, and exclaimed in surprise.

Seeing the stunned Yang Tiexin and terrified Mu Nianci beside him, his eyes flicked, he halted instantly, and silently slipped back toward the stairwell. "Amitabha~"

The old monk looked at Yang Kang, a strange hue flashing in his eyes, and said softly: "Young devotee, you are rather insightful."

Having wisdom just to avoid death? Yang Kang muttered inwardly, and after meeting the old monk's gaze, he instinctively halted, sneering: "Master Juexing, what a coincidence, it's so late why aren't you sleeping? My Uncle Niu is waiting outside, shall you sit first?"

Yang Kang didn't know why the old monk was here, but he had seen him last night outside the bamboo forest, and sensed the bald donkey seemed ill‑intent, perhaps planning to clash with his Uncle Niu.

Moreover, that evening, he and his cheap father were dining at an upscale inn outside when he saw this person again, and at the time he felt the person kept staring at his table without stopping.

It looks like I'm about to be implicated by that respected Uncle Niu.

"Young donor, would you be willing to come back to the Shaolin Temple with me to cultivate?" Juexing's face was kind, looking at Yang Kang and saying with a smile, a smile full of deep meaning.

Without waiting for Yang Kang's reply, he turned his head to look at Mu Nianci and said, "Your father has already taken refuge in our Buddha; why, Miss Donor, must you cling to this foolish notion?"

"You only need to stay at the Shaolin Temple for ten days; if you still wish to leave the mountain then, I will let you go down. How does that sound?"

Mu Nianci said nothing, merely gripping her father tightly with one hand while pulling out a dagger with the other, warily staring at Juexing, not daring to relax in the slightest.

After a while, seeing that Juexing made no further move, Mu Nianci tightly gripped the dagger and said lightly, "Master, as an enlightened high monk of the Shaolin Temple, what reason is there to force others to become monastics? After all, it's merely that my father owes you a tael of silver; I am returning that silver to you now, and I also ask the master to spare my father."

Saying this, Mu Nianci did not dare to approach, and directly threw the broken silver she had been holding in her hand for a while onto the tabletop.

Seeing this, Juexing let out a soft sigh.

The next moment, the atmosphere on the second floor instantly became mysterious and unfathomable.

"Master Juexing, let me first go downstairs to ask Uncle Niu! If he agrees, I'll go with you!" Yang Kang said hurriedly.

"Mr. Niu has not yet arrived; why would the young donor deceive a poor monk like me?" Juexing shook his head and spoke softly.

"Moreover, the young donor's biological father is right before your eyes; what reason is there to go ask an outsider?"

"Your biological father is right before your eyes!" Upon hearing this, Yang Kang bristled.

Glaring angrily, he shouted, "If you want to recognize that old monk as your father, go do it yourself! I refuse to recognize him!"

Upon hearing this, Juexing's face showed a slight startle.

Seeing this, Yang Kang bolted downstairs, running while shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Someone's been killed!"

"The old monk killed someone!"

"The Shaolin Temple killed someone!!"

Just like that, the sound of windows being shut and doors closed rang out in a flurry outside the building.

Seeing this, Juexing's eyes flashed with anger, and his breath suddenly became violently turbulent.

Thereafter, he made no further movement; only a cold snort was heard, followed immediately by a violent boom from within the inn, his whole body bursting through the flying wood shavings as he smashed straight through the second-floor floor and plummeted downward.

Yang Kang had already run to the first floor and was about to dash out the door, not yet having time to rejoice, when he suddenly saw this scene of the roof being broken through, and he froze outright.

The next moment, "Bald donkey, take this move!"

Yang Kang dared not hesitate in the slightest; he let out an explosive shout, swinging a howling palm strike toward Juexing.

Seeing that the strike was about to land on Juexing's chest, he suddenly withdrew, steeled himself, and frantically circulated the North Darkness Divine Skill.

He had made up his mind: even if absorbing energy were to kill him tonight, he would absolutely not become the foolish, idiotic state of his father.

But just as Yang Kang awaited Juexing's palm to clash, Juexing's expression remained blank; he flicked his robe sleeve, and a formidable surge of qi came sweeping toward him.

"Enter you…"

"Boom~"

"Pfft~"

His angry curse cut off abruptly, followed by a booming sound as blood spurted out; Yang Kang's lunging figure was flung straight backward, slamming directly onto the dim counter.

"Cough cough~"

"Old bald donkey! If you've got the guts, kill me yourself with your own hands! What kind of skill is it to just flick your sleeve?" Yang Kang wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth, held his head high, and cursed angrily.

He had originally intended to suck a bit of energy from him with a resolve to die if necessary, but he never expected the old scoundrel not to even use both hands—wasn't that an insult? Juexing looked at Yang Kang; the anger in his face had faded, his murky eyes flashing with a strange hue as he clasped his hands together and said, "Young donor, your palm contains boundless suction; this is clearly an evil art that absorbs others' inner strength, and thus you should all the more come to my Shaolin."

Having said that, perhaps sensing the commotion upstairs, Juexing suddenly glanced upward.

"Amitabha~"

Then, with a Buddhist chant, Juexing's lips moved as he recited the sutra again: "The mind is called wisdom; the Buddha is concentration; concentration and wisdom are upheld; the mind is pure; upon understanding this dharma, it follows from your nature…"

Upon hearing this, Yang Kang's face changed drastically; he hastily covered his ears and shouted angrily, "Go to hell, you dead bald donkey! If you've got the guts, don't fall into my hands—if you do, I'll surely castrate you!"

Even so, he still felt the Buddhist chant buzzing in his brain, as if countless Buddhas were pouring something into him.

Gradually, Yang Kang felt a golden Buddha-light shining before him, his consciousness beginning to blur.

Am I going to become an idiot?

Yang Kang couldn't help but think in terror, yet his mouth continued to output weakly.

It was what his Uncle Niu had said—that a strong aura strengthens one's resolve; he feared that if he weakened even slightly, his consciousness would directly scatter.

But resistance was obviously futile.

Just as Yang Kang, clinging to his last thread of consciousness, was about to utter the grandiose vow to exterminate the entire Shaolin sect…

"Hmph~"

A thunderous cold snort suddenly exploded in his mind, instantly dispelling the invading Buddhist chants that filled the heavens.

(End of chapter)