Chapter 524: Temple Fair Gathering

Amitabha Buddha is the lord of the Western Pure Land.

According to Buddhist doctrine, beings suffer through the six realms of samsara, but those reborn in the Pure Land may escape this cycle of suffering.

His supreme status goes without saying.

The seventeenth day of the eleventh lunar month is his birthday.

There is also a story behind this date.

Legend says Amitabha Buddha had two incarnations on earth.

One was Master Shandao.

The other was Master Yongming Yanshou.

This Master Yongming Yanshou was not only the sixth patriarch of the Pure Land School, but also the third patriarch of the Chan School's Fayan lineage.

He was born during the chaotic Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, when Buddhism was in decline; he was honored by King Qian Chu of Wuyue as a national teacher.

One day, King Qian Chu wished to hold a grand no-restriction Dharma assembly. When seating arrangements were made, everyone humbly deferred the chief seat, and Master Yongming also refused to take it. Yet a ragged monk with long ears sat down in the chief seat without hesitation.

After the assembly, King Qian Chu asked Master Yongming if any holy beings had come to receive offerings. Master Yongming replied that the ancient Buddha Dingguang had come to receive offerings—implicitly referring to the long-eared monk.

The king, delighted, sent men to pursue him, only to learn the long-eared monk had been meditating in a cave and had already passed away.

Before his passing, the long-eared monk said, "Amitabha revealed too much," hinting at Master Yongming's true identity.

The messenger informed the king that the ancient Buddha Dingguang had passed away, but that Master Yongming was Amitabha Buddha reborn.

The king, overjoyed, hurried to see Master Yongming, only to learn at the door that Master Yongming had also passed away.

More remarkably, Amitabha Buddha represents boundless light and boundless life.

"Yongming" means boundless light, and "Yanshou" means boundless life—his name directly embodies the meaning of "Amitabha Buddha."

Thus, the birthday of Master Yongming Yanshou, the seventeenth day of the eleventh lunar month, was established as Amitabha Buddha's birthday.

Whether true or not, the date was set.

For Pure Land Buddhists who primarily revere Amitabha Buddha, they hold the "Three-Time Mindfulness Ceremony" and the "Intensive Buddha Recitation Seven-Day Retreat."

Guangde Temple is not a Pure Land lineage but a Chan lineage, so it merely holds a "Blessing Ceremony" to honor Amitabha Buddha and pray for his protection of all beings, as well as a "Universal Dharma Ceremony" to bless devotees, remove calamities, and increase fortune and wisdom.

These are matters for Buddhist disciples to attend to.

For ordinary believers, however, it is another matter entirely.

The merchants of Suining County were delighted.

After all, though the Great Xuan Dynasty's fortune was strong, ordinary people still struggled daily with firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea.

Those who traveled great distances to burn incense were no poor folk.

All their eating, drinking, toileting, sleeping—these were all income before the New Year.

The traveling performers were also delighted.

With several days of rituals, a temple fair was inevitable; they rushed to earn a profit here, then headed to Chengdu for more.

Whether they ate meat or drank northwest wind next year depended on these days.

The ordinary people of Suining were also delighted.

After all, life was too hard and too dull; beyond weddings and funerals, temple fairs and festivals were the only occasions for joy.

Thus, early in the morning, the city bustled into activity.

Villagers carried their elders and children, carrying small bamboo baskets filled with straw paper, incense, candles, yellow talismans, and offerings, climbing the mountain to burn incense, then heading to the temple fair.

They sought blessings from the Buddha and Bodhisattvas, then watched operas and ate snacks at the fair—no different from the New Year…

Traveling performers and peddlers rose before dawn to reach the temple fair below the mountain, fearing their stalls would be taken.

As for the high officials and nobles, they rose even earlier.

No one would miss the first incense offering at the temple…

…………

"Temple fair? Boring. I'm not going!"

Sha Lifei shoveled two mouthfuls of food, then turned and returned to his room, took out a painting and put on his bead bracelet, sitting cross-legged in meditation.

The painting depicted a lotus flower.

He was now learning mental visualization, starting from the basics.

First, he visualized a lotus in his mind, then strove to maintain it—only when it remained after ceasing practice did he enter the threshold.

Otherwise, he could never visualize a deity.

Let alone building a tower later.

For some, this step came easily.

But for him, even achieving proper meditation was a major problem.

Fortunately, Li Yan had obtained a treasure from the mountain; once Sha Lifei wore the White-robed Bodhisattva bracelet, he immediately felt the difference.

At least now, he could easily enter meditation and visualize the lotus.

Li Yan also had a plan for his method.

The Meishan Dharma Sect excels in hunter arts and was the first to develop a technique compatible with firearms.

It suited Sha Lifei perfectly.

Joining the Meishan Sect was not difficult.

This sect had many branches, various organizations, master-disciple lineages, and was widespread—even in Sichuan.

Even if the Sichuan Meishan Sect refused him, Li Yan knew several Meishan friends—he could simply travel to Xiangxi.

"I'm not going."

Lu San refused outright and returned to his room.

Crowded places were his nightmare, and bringing his animals along was inappropriate.

"Why is everyone like this…"

Li Yan sighed, turning to Wang Daoxuan, "Master, surely you're not uninterested either?"

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard and shook his head: "I've seen too many temple fairs. Today's weather is fine; I'd like to take out my books and dry them in the sun."

"Alright then."

Li Yan sighed, forced a smile, and turned to Wu Ba, who sat restlessly beside him, "Come on, I'll accompany you today. We'll eat our fill and have our fun!"

"Good! Good!"

Wu Ba leapt up, his excitement impossible to hide.

To be honest, Li Yan didn't want to go either, but the team had Wu Ba—though he was huge and strong, no less than an ancient warrior, his temperament was sometimes like a child's.

They had taken him to temple fairs once or twice before.

Since then, he'd been obsessed.

Knowing a fair was coming, he'd been waiting for two days; today, he'd been gazing pitifully at everyone since dawn.

Previously, Sha Lifei had taken him.

Now, only Li Yan could go himself.

Leaving Ruifu Courtyard, the streets were noticeably emptier.

Li Yan had already left the city and reached the dock, but something stirred in him—he turned to Wu Ba and said, "There's also a temple fair outside Lingquan Temple. It's smaller, but we shouldn't miss it."

"How about we tour this side in the morning and head to the foot of Wolong Mountain in the afternoon?"

"Good! Good!"

Wu Ba's face lit up even more.

Li Yan chuckled, then turned east with Wu Ba.

…………

Compared to Guangde Temple, Lingquan Temple was closer.

The two passed Wangjiang Tower, followed the official road southeast, and arrived at the foot of Lingquan Mountain in less than half an hour.

This place had once been vast wilderness.

First, pilgrims from all over Sichuan, unable to find lodging in Suining County, simply set up camp here.

Then, the Changchun Society came to claim land.

By the time Li Yan and the others arrived, the place was already swarming with people.

There were stages built of earth and wood, tents set up by storytellers, acrobats, and magicians—voices of singing, drumming, and clanging filled the air.

You had to get close to hear clearly.

As for vendors selling thread, baskets, New Year paintings, and firecrackers, there were countless of them.

In the bitter cold, each shouted at the top of their lungs.

"Sugar paintings! Sweet and beautiful sugar paintings!" "Glutinous rice wine, steaming hot oil tea!"

"Newly arrived hoes and sickles! Strong and cheap!"

"Old books and New Year paintings! Cheap sale!"

Crowds flowed like a river; though winter had arrived, the scene was blazing with activity.

Li Yan, having seen too much bustle in his past life, naturally paid it no mind—but Wu Ba was already dazzled.

This boy was like a child on holiday.

One moment he darted to the roasted sweet potato stall, eating and grabbing, gulping down four or five in seconds, steam puffing from his mouth, not caring how hot they were…

The next moment he rushed to the braised meat stall, gnawing on a glossy red braised pork hock with a baked bun…

Not only did his mouth never stop, his eyes darted everywhere.

Just after crunching down two sugar figures, he joined a group of children beneath the puppet stage, grinning foolishly with his mouth wide open.

One by one, he looked over /p>

Li Yan finally understood why Sha Lifi complained every time.

Taking this kid along is like having a nanny.

The good thing is, he only needs to activate the Yang Seal, and Wu Ba's whereabouts are always clear to him; combined with his conspicuous height, he can't possibly get lost.

Since he'd come this far, he might as well walk with his hands behind his back, occasionally stopping by stalls selling old artifacts to see if he could find anything worthwhile.

Gradually, letting go of his worries brought him a certain kind of pleasure.

"Greetings, Li Shaoxia!"

A voice suddenly sounded beside him—it was an old man in black robes with a white headwrap, bowing respectfully to him.

Before Li Yan could ask, the old man introduced himself: "Li Shaoxia, I'm Wu Kang, head of the Changchun Society here. Whatever you need, just say the word."

Li Yan had become a prominent figure on the Jianghu of Shu in recent times, and after the Wangjiang Tower incident, his fame had soared.

To a local organization like the Changchun Society, he was an enormous figure—if their leader were here, he'd come to pay respects himself.

"You're too kind…"

Li Yan was about to offer some polite words when a thought struck him, and he asked: "What's good to eat or see at today's gathering?"

"Yes, yes!"

Wu Kang suppressed his excitement and nodded quickly: "Though our place is small, it's a Guanyin sacred ground, so some true cultivators have come as well."

"There's a puppet show from northern Sichuan called the Big Stick Puppet—it's unlike ordinary ones; the puppets are as tall as people, truly rare…"

"As for food, I know of one place. The man's called Wang Mazi—his cooking rivals that of a Cai General…"

"You're joking."

Li Yan chuckled, "How could a Cai General come to a place like this?"

In the culinary world, there are ranks; the term "Cai General" refers to a master chef whose reputation spreads far and wide within a particular cuisine.

Usually, such chefs have awakened a divine ability, and their dishes have reached the pinnacle of color, aroma, and flavor.

Li Yan had been fortunate enough to taste their food twice, and the memory lingered endlessly.

But if someone were truly a Cai General, even in Chengdu or Chongqing, they'd be honored guests at the homes of high officials and nobles—just one call, and wealthy patrons would rush to open restaurants for them.

Why would they come to a bustling fair like this and show their face?

"You don't understand."

Wu Kang hurried to explain: "This man has a face full of pockmarks and a terrible temper. Word is he offended powerful figures and fellow chefs, hates serving the rich, and only likes cooking here at the fair."

"His dishes are expensive, and he often argues with customers, so his business is just average."

Li Yan became interested: "Someone like that? Where is he?"

"Please follow me."

Wu Kang immediately scurried ahead to lead the way.

He was eager to curry favor, but didn't think much of it—after all, the gap between them was too great; there was no possible connection.

But one thing was good: if he served well today, later he could brag to others that he'd once had dealings with such a person.

"Wu Ba, come on—I'll take you to eat something great!"

Li Yan called out, and Wu Ba followed behind.

Whoever appeared in Sichuan must be a Sichuan Cai General.

Indeed, when the three reached the far edge of the fair, before they even got close, Li Yan sniffed the air and his mouth instantly filled with saliva.

"Your words were no exaggeration!"

Without hesitation, Li Yan led Wu Ba toward a stall.

The stall looked crude—just a simple mat enclosure, with a few round logs propping up the thatched roof—but it was spotlessly clean.

On one side stood a clay stove, beside it a man flipping a large iron wok with both hands, the sizzling sound of stir-frying sharp and continuous.

As the Changchun Society head had said, the cook's appearance was truly unpleasant: short and stocky, thick neck, big head, his face covered in pockmarks like sesame seeds crawling with insects—just looking at him was uncomfortable.

But Li Yan's attention was entirely on his hands.

He was stir-frying a classic Sichuan dish: Hui Guo Rou.

The pork was premium belly, tossed in the iron wok until its surface turned golden-brown and slightly curled, forming a bowl-like shape.

Mixed with wood ear mushrooms and chili peppers, the aroma was so intense it could knock you off your feet.

"Excellent skill!"

Li Yan couldn't help but praise aloud.

Beside him, Wu Ba was drooling, his hands sweaty, clutching Li Yan's arm, eyes bulging like copper bells.

"Shut your damn mouth!"

The Cai General glared fiercely.

The apprentice beside him quickly carried a tray aside.

Inside the stall, one side was the clay stove, the other held two tables; only one table was occupied now.

A blind old Daoist leaning on a cane.

A disheveled, dusty boy holding a sword.

Both stared eagerly; when the Hui Guo Rou arrived, they immediately grabbed chopsticks, nodded respectfully to Wang Mazi, then began fighting over the dish, eating voraciously.

Seeing this, Li Yan frowned.

He could faintly sense something off about them—they were likely cultivators, but their aura seemed concealed by some force.

Moreover, as they fought over the food with chopsticks, they clearly used advanced sword techniques: chopsticks never clashed, yet the sword energy shifted constantly.

Li Yan glanced once and had no intention of meddling; he smiled faintly and prepared to sit at the other table.

"Wait a sec!"

Wang Mazi glared. "Who told you to sit?"

Li Yan was surprised. "Aren't you running a business?"

Wang Mazi snorted. "I'm not serving you."

Li Yan narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Wang Mazi stared at him fiercely and coldly said: "Pretty boy—you're all no good. Just looking at you makes me uncomfortable. My food won't taste good if you eat it."

Li Yan: "…"

Wu Kang, watching, broke into a cold sweat and stepped forward, whispering: "Wang Mazi, what are you talking about? This is Li Shaoxia—the rising star of recent times. He admires you. Drop that foul temper."

"Get lost!"

Wang Mazi glared at Wu Kang. "Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?"

Li Yan, seeing how strange this man was, also felt a flicker of irritation.

He was about to speak when a voice suddenly spoke up: "Uncle Wang, this gentleman is a true hero. Please grant me this favor."

It was the sword-holding boy who had spoken.

"Hmm, fine."

To Li Yan's surprise, Wang Mazi immediately agreed, ordering the apprentice to wipe the table and pour tea.

Seeing this, Li Yan suppressed his anger and smiled, bowing to the boy: "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

The boy grinned, revealing a bright white tooth:

"Just fight me later!"

(End of Chapter)