Chapter 833: Chapter Twenty-Three: Stripping the Skin to See Emptiness

Brother Qian Chen recited the sutra "The Buddha's Teaching on the True Form of White Bones" once before the horse, silently imprinting it upon the heart of the Moon Demon's true heir.

At this moment, the skin slit open from behind Brother Qian Chen had also torn apart; the demon head focused intently, for the quality of this skin depended entirely on this one peel.

According to his experience, it required speed, precision, and cruelty—and also demanded a sudden, violent emotional surge from the one being skinned.

Watching his mind, Brother Qian Chen nodded slightly—clever!

A slit opened soundlessly along the driver's back, revealing layer upon layer of skin beneath; beneath this single skin lay dozens of inner skins—even if the outermost layer was destroyed, the demon within could still flee wearing one of the inner skins.

One skin, one life.

A normal cultivator would have to kill him dozens of times.

The demon head praised: "Your sutra recitation is excellent!"

The driver gradually loosened the skin wrapped around his body, ready to leap out through the slit at his back at any moment.

He must strip Brother Qian Chen's skin with extreme speed, then quickly shed his own skin and slip into it, becoming Brother Qian Chen.

This process must be swift, or he risked being detected by the Mirror that Exposes Demons and Illusions.

"That's…"

Brother Qian Chen lifted his head, smugly: "I know this sutra backward and forward—don't believe me? I'll recite it for you."

Seeing the youthful naivety now revealed in Brother Qian Chen, the demon head smiled coldly: "Good, good, good… Oh! There's a snake on your back!"

A slimy sensation suddenly crawled up Brother Qian Chen's back, making his skin tighten instantly; he trembled and said: "It's fine—I'll recite a sutra to it, and it won't bite me!"

"Then recite! I'll help you catch it!"

The demon head quietly gripped the two edges of Brother Qian Chen's slit skin; the underlying muscles and fine blood vessels had already separated from the skin.

The slimy, snake-like sensation was merely a tactile illusion conjured by a yin demon within his mind; yet in this tension, Brother Qian Chen's skin gradually tightened.

Where the invisible snake passed, goosebumps rose; with each tightening and relaxing, flesh and skin slowly parted.

Brother Qian Chen truly lowered his head and began reciting the sutra backward; his nape was exposed to the Moon Demon's true heir, a vertical cut extending upward all the way to the most prominent vertebra, which, as Brother Qian Chen bowed his head, suddenly pried open the already-split skin.

The demon head's smile grew even more sinister.

Brother Qian Chen mumbled the sutra, reciting "The Buddha's Teaching on the True Form of White Bones" backward—syllables fused, indistinct—but if heard in another language, every word was crystal clear, precise, and meaningful.

It was—Nine Provinces Demon Speech.

And this backward recitation was, in truth, the "Moon Demon's Skin-Painting Sutra!"

Brother Qian Chen's smile was equally inscrutable, carrying a faint air of transcendence and compassion.

Watching the vertebra emerge, its bone tinged with a faint yellow decay, the Moon Demon inwardly shook his head.

"This skin is so withered—slipping into it would feel cramped! And this man's skin and bone structure are terrible; his body is far too inferior. Had it not been necessary, I wouldn't have even considered such a skin."

"The elderly's skin is loosest, the poor's skin is coarsest, the sick's skin has no elasticity—in the 'Three Thousand Skins Painting,' these are the lowest-grade skins."

"Daoist skin has the most elasticity, Buddhist skin is thickest, demon skin is slickest…"

An idea suddenly burrowed into his mind: "The finest skin peels away cleanly, without sticking; as you peel it, you carry along its essence, spirit, and even memories, leaving them embedded in the skin. This demands great patience—you must dissect the skin like dissecting memory, unraveling personality and inner self."

"The cut must reach his most essential core, yet never touch that essence."

The Moon Demon believed his demonic art had just broken through; inspiration flowed endlessly, and he began peeling away the young monk's skin layer by layer according to these thoughts.

Then, with a sudden yank—swish!

Like a leather sack suddenly opening to the air, a rustling sound as if slapping the wind.

A complete skin peeled cleanly off Brother Qian Chen's body.

Instantly, a dark shadow shot out from within the driver's body, darting into the skin sack.

The skin fell to the ground; a little monk, identical to Brother Qian Chen, stood grinning mysteriously between Brother Qian Chen and the driver.

He looked up at Brother Qian Chen's original position and whispered: "Little monk, who am I?"

He gloated inwardly: "With my skill, he hasn't even realized his skin is gone—I'll call out to him now and see the look on his face when he sees 'himself' standing before him!"

"Hehe…"

"Who am I now?"

The Moon Demon looked up toward the voice—and saw, at Brother Qian Chen's former spot, a figure covered in yellow earth, like a clay statue, bowing his head to recite sutras; his eyelids were gone, his eyeballs exposed on his face, molded like yellow clay.

His gums were exposed; his voice was slightly twisted…

This gradually distorted voice suddenly made sense to the Moon Demon.

"He's reciting the Moon Demon's Skin-Painting Sutra!"

The Moon Demon suddenly felt the skin wasn't tight—or rather, it was hollow. He didn't feel like he'd put on a garment or squeezed into a skin sack; he felt like he'd walked into an empty room.

"Why is it empty?"

A thought flashed through the Moon Demon's mind.

Then came a shudder rising from within—skinless flesh reciting sutras… that voice just now?

He suddenly remembered: that voice had come from his own mouth.

"Why isn't it empty? If self-nature isn't empty, how can anything exist? Existence depends on emptiness! If my skin isn't empty, how can 'I' exist inside it?"

This was his own inner answer.

"Emptiness is existence!"

"Existence and non-existence give birth to each other!"

Two more voices echoed in his mind.

At this moment, the Moon Demon understood: it wasn't empty at all—it was packed.

He had peeled away the skin, discarding flesh, bone, and all tangible things within the skin; yet upon the skin remained memory, soul, consciousness, appearance, name, and form…

He had abandoned the inner substance, leaving all appearances upon the skin.

What remained inside this utterly empty skin?

That was "Emptiness!"

The substance that constituted "me" had been let go!

The appearances that constituted "me" had become the skin!

Then, in this utterly empty space…

That was the basis of "me"—emptiness itself.

At this moment, the Moon Demon suddenly comprehended the sutra "The Buddha's Teaching on the True Form of White Bones" that Brother Qian Chen had whispered beside his ear.

He had entered the boundless emptiness of some supreme demon, relying on its emptiness to sustain his own "existence"; the demon had vacated an empty room, allowing him to move in.

But within that room, skin, memory, and form were all "his" externalities.

Emptiness—the basis of existence—was his inner self…

Then where was "I"?

"I" am in the middle!

"I" had no emptiness—what was existence? My self depends on his emptiness; therefore, I am he!

"So I am Brother Qian Chen!"

The Moon Demon suddenly understood, revealing a serene smile; the little monk touched his belly—now he was truly full.

Inside the skin, it remained utterly empty—no substance.

Brother Qian Chen looked at the driver's skin, peering through the slit on its back; inside, dozens of skins were layered, and at the very center lay one intact skin, without a single cut.

Brother Qian Chen smiled.

His technique had improved!

While speaking to the demon, he had led the demon to realize the truth of appearance and emptiness.

Each line of the sutra urged him to let go of layer after layer of skin, until even memory, consciousness, and all dharmas born of conditions were abandoned, exposing the hollow self.

Then, at the moment the Moon Demon attempted possession…

It peeled itself out.

It thought it had merely shed the outermost driver's skin—but in truth, it had shed layer after layer of skin, even discarding all appearances born of conditions; its self had emerged from the hollow space and lunged toward Brother Qian Chen's emptiness.

Transforming its own "existence" into one layer of appearance within Brother Qian Chen's emptiness…

Brother Qian Chen watched his own inner reality slowly drilling through countless layers of skin, entering the final, utterly empty space—where even self had no basis, truly becoming nothingness.

Finally, wearing dozens of skins, with the core still bearing the Moon Demon's form, Brother Qian Chen's true reality stood up again.

The true reality spoke to the empty appearance: "My hands are itching! I'll peel the skin off that Daoist Yangshen of the Moon Demon Sect…"

Brother Qian Chen, who had transformed the "Moon Demon's Skin-Painting Sutra" into Madhyamaka Dharma, felt someone filling his emptiness with selfhood—and a genuine smile spread across his face.

This was clearly a Buddhist great dharma, yet when Brother Qian Chen wielded it, it was more demonic and eerie than the "Moon Demon's Skin-Painting Sutra."

After the skin was peeled away, the inside became utterly empty—like a wooden bowl filled with bitter water; the bowl itself is a stinking skin, and the bitter water is the self. Then, after pouring out the self, what remains in the empty bowl?

The Buddhist school says: True Suchness.

Brother Qian Chen agrees… his True Suchness had just eaten a man!

"Moon Demon Skin-Painting, Buddha Speaks of Emptiness!" Brother Qian Chen asked curiously: "Is the skin me? Is the substance me? Is emptiness me?"

Brother Qian Chen, wearing the hollow skin, headed toward the Tuoba residence—he needed time to digest that layer of appearance, to comprehend what self truly is after abandoning all skins, even emptiness itself.

So far, this self could not arise on its own, form itself, or exist eternally—it conformed to the Buddhist teaching that all dharmas lack inherent nature.

"So this is appearance…"

"The dharmas have the appearance of self, of others, of sentient beings—is the self-appearance singular? I don't think so—I've just gained another 'self' appearance! If the Moon Demon is 'I,' and I am 'emptiness,' then the one living inside this skin should be him—why does he feel utterly nonexistent?"

Brother Qian Chen turned inward—and saw no trace of the Moon Demon's "I."

He could only grunt: "I gave you a chance—you're useless!"

Meanwhile, Brother Qian Chen's true form, wearing dozens of skins, headed toward the Moon Demon Sect's patriarch…

His skin had returned; Lady Tuoba waited for him in the Buddha hall. When the maid led him in, Lady Tuoba's smile had been especially kind—until she saw Brother Qian Chen's eyes, then she gasped: "What are you?"

"I'm just me?" Brother Qian Chen frowned in confusion.

Lady Buwa gazed upon Brother Qian Chen's every memory, manifestation, foundation, and identity—all bound to a single skin—and through her eyes, she saw nothing within.

She felt cold sweat slithering down her back like snakes, and a shiver instantly crawled over her entire body.

Looking at Brother Qian Chen, who tilted his head with a look of confusion, Lady Tuoba sat down solemnly and said, "Master, how did you return with nothing but a hollow skin? I thought you'd been… killed by the Moon Demon Sect."

"Oh! I was skinned by the Moon Demon!"

Brother Qian Chen said calmly, "I wanted to see my 'True Suchness.' Nāgārjuna said True Suchness is emptiness; I saw that the skin stripped by the Moon Demon was the emptiest of all, so I cooperated with him."

Lady Tuoba was certain: this man was a terrifying titan of the demonic path, perhaps even a Demon Lord who had stepped into the Earth Immortal Realm!

Reversed cultivation of the Moon Demon's Skin-Stealing Scripture—peeling away skin to reveal True Suchness?

What 'True Suchness' did he see?

If True Suchness is Buddha-nature, then this True Suchness must be a demonic nature utterly transcending Buddha-nature!

"All dharmas lack inherent nature—can they possess other-nature?"

"By stripping away the skin and discarding its inner substance, one perceives the emptiness of True Suchness. If one strips another's skin and discards their substance, what remains in the emptiness—is it their original True Suchness?"

Brother Qian Chen couldn't help but feel curious.

Beside him, Lady Tuoba trembled violently; she had cultivated Buddhist teachings since childhood, and due to a momentary trauma and attachment, had fallen into demonic understanding, comprehending the nature of demonic mind and superficial form.

Yet she now entertained the insane notion that the peeled skins from the Moon Demon's Scripture were merely bags or wrappings containing their original True Suchness, and that she could collect more of this True Suchness by gathering these skin-bags.

Using demonhood to prove Buddhahood…

The ability to refine demonic arts into profound Buddhist wisdom, then make that Buddhist wisdom even more inscrutable than demonhood…

She had never seen anything like it!