Chapter 163: Memorial Tablet

"For so many years, Da Baoen Si has regarded Apo and her husband as benefactors of the temple. Apo making an appointment with the Abbot is much more effective than those big shots from the outside." Zhong Kui's fingers wound around her silky long hair as she walked and spoke.

After hearing this, Qi Fei was still a bit puzzled. Clearly, Zhong Kui had asked Meng Apo to arrange a meeting with the Abbot of Da Baoen Si in advance. "However, how did you know I found out Ye Ming had been to Da Baoen Si?"

Zhong Kui pursed her lips and smiled: "Ghost knows you would discover this today; I was just doing my own homework. Zhong Xiaoyu must have done attention management on me. Among the information about this case, what I care about most must be the part related to metaphysics. The scriptures on the palms of the deceased in Dongji Zhen..." She didn't know when she had taken out the small copper knife she carried with her and was playing with it in her hand. "Those crooked Sanskrit characters don't look like they were carved at all. A sharp tool cannot carve such smooth lines on human skin..."

"The forensic examiner identified that at the time; it was branded on, but the matching murder weapon was never found," Qi Fei said immediately.

"Hmm, you don't need to look at your case files to see it was branded on. This raises a question: what did the killer use to brand it? Molding and casting iron himself is too bizarre. I don't know if your predecessors considered this line of thinking back then. There is another possibility: it was something ready-made in the temple. Coincidentally, Apo knows that the wind bells on the Liuli Ta have the scriptures of the 'Vimalakirti Sutra' on them. It is said that in the 1950s and 60s, most of the wind bells on the tower were taken down to be melted for steel, and only the top circle of eaves remained because they were too high to be removed, thus surviving."

While they were talking, they had already arrived under the Glazed Pagoda. An old monk stood in front of the tower, his brow bones high and his eyebrows frosted. He was draped in a faded dark blue monk's robe, and fine, dense stitches could be seen where the corners of his clothes were worn, which was a far cry from the flourishing incense of Da Baoen Temple.

It seemed this person was the Abbot of Da Baoen Si that Zhong Kui mentioned, Dharma Master Sheng Hui.

Dharma Master Sheng Hui performed a salute with one hand. After Qi Fei explained their purpose, he put his hands together and said: "Amitabha, the classic of compassion for saving all living beings is now branded as a curse for a killer. They take self-suffering as liberation, which is truly inverted." He lowered his eyes in regret and then said, "The three donors, please follow me."

He said this and turned to walk into the Liuli Ta.

The three of them followed him inside.

To protect the cultural relics, the Liuli Ta is usually not open to the public.

Qi Fei, a native of Nancheng, had actually never climbed this ancient tower.

The wooden stairs made a faint creaking sound under his feet, and Qi Fei climbed up, holding the faded vermilion railing. The spring light shone obliquely into the tower through the peacock blue glazed tiles, cutting the spiraling stairs into fragments of light and shadow.

"Watch out for the hanging fish at the corner," Dharma Master Sheng Hui signaled.

The higher they went, the richer the scent of aged sandalwood in the air became, making Qi Fei involuntarily think of the scent remaining on Ye Ming's oxhide notebook.

The four of them finally approached the top of the tower. The wind blew without obstruction, and the wind bells at the eaves rang in the wind.

Qi Fei finally saw the scriptures on the wind bells. Although he couldn't understand the Sanskrit, the size and shape of the characters were exactly the same as those on the palms of the five deceased in Dongji Zhen.

"The size of this wind bell is just right for a person's palm to hold," Zhong Kui's words, seemingly ordinary, were actually chilling.

Qi Fei seemed to be able to see those five poor women, under the killer's coercion, extending their palms toward the red-hot wind bell—he guessed how these scriptures appeared on the deceased's hands, just as Ye Ming had stood here back then, looking at the bells swaying in the wind, thinking of that cruel scene.

Sheng Hui's calm voice came from beside them: "The 'Vimalakirti Sutra' says, 'First remove the self and others, then cut off the root of killing.' The scriptures are clearly carved on copper and iron, yet they have not been contaminated by the murderous aura of weapons, which shows that the Buddha's gate saves karma, not life." The remaining wind bells on the eaves groaned in response. Qi Fei turned to Dharma Master Sheng Hui and said: "Abbot, we need to take one down to take it back for further comparison with the deceased from back then.

It seems that not all the wind bells that were forcibly removed back then were melted down. It's just a pity that so much time has passed, it's impossible to know who quietly kept the wind bells."

Speaking of this, Qi Fei changed the subject: "I didn't come here today just for the scriptures on the wind bells. I want to ask, have you ever heard of a person named Xu Chunxia?"

As soon as Dharma Master Sheng Hui heard this name, his white eyebrows moved slightly, and he immediately said: "The one you are talking about seems to have already entered Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi Nirvana."

Qi Fei had been looking for Xu Chunxia for so long, and for the first time, someone had an echo. Although he didn't understand Buddhism, he could guess that this meant Sheng Hui knew this person was already dead. He couldn't help but be excited, almost hitting the hanging wooden fish carving and nearly falling.

Zhong Kui grabbed his arm: "Don't be so excited, otherwise, before the case is cleared, you will follow Xu Chunxia into Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi Nirvana."

Sheng Hui was seeing Zhong Kui for the first time and didn't know her speaking style, so he hurriedly said "Amitabha": "This donor is joking."

Qi Fei was used to it and hurriedly asked Sheng Hui: "It seems you know Xu Chunxia. Who is she? How did she die?"

Sheng Hui nodded slightly: "Let's go down the tower first, this poor monk will take you to a place."

He turned and led the three of them to walk slowly down the wooden stairs. The light filtered through the peacock blue glaze became increasingly dim, dragging everyone's shadows into long, slanted ink marks.

Passing through the west side of the Daxiong Treasure Hall, which was filled with incense, a moon-shaped gate mottled with moss was quietly hidden in the cypress forest.

The copper-nailed wooden door of the Dizang Hall creaked open, and the heavy scent of incense candles rushed toward them.

The ten-square-meter inner room was illuminated only by an Everlasting Lamp, and the colored lacquer golden body of the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva was already cracked.

The interior of the Dizang Hall was as dark as ink, with only the red candle flames of hundreds of gilded candlesticks flickering.

The entire west wall was densely stacked with ebony memorial tablets, and the sandalwood shelf, over three zhang high, was pressed into a slight arc. The new and old memorial tablets were layered on top of each other, as if this place was no longer the human world.

The aged sandalwood scent wrapped around the smell of candle wax, condensing into a pale blue mist between the beams and pillars.

Qi Fei's gaze eagerly searched for that name on the entire wall of memorial tablets.

Following Dharma Master Sheng Hui's pointing, he looked at the northeast corner of the top floor. The memorial tablets there were clearly aged, and the dust-covered lacquer surface had faded to a crow-blue color.

He held his breath as he looked at the group of memorial tablets covered by spider webs. In the swaying gilded candlelight, the name "Xu Chunxia" finally appeared in his line of sight.

The gold-traced characters were showing through the dust-covered crow-blue lacquer surface, looking down from above, as if telling of the grievances that had not been spoken for more than forty years.

"With so many memorial tablets, do you remember each one?" Zhong Kui suddenly asked Sheng Hui. ===== CHAPTER 164 =====