Chapter 738: Dimensional Strike from a Thousand Years Later

Jingzhao's Chang'an Prefecture, the Great Xingshan Temple.

This too was a thousand-year-old temple, first built in the second year of Taishi under Emperor Wu of Jin, Sima Yan — that is, 266 CE.

Because it lay within the Jingshan Ward of Chang'an, it took the "Xing" of Daxing City and the "Shan" of Jingshan Ward, and was called the Great Xingshan Temple.

But this ancestral seat of the Esoteric school suffered tremendous damage during the Huichang persecution of Buddhism under Emperor Wuzong of Tang, and was torn down until only the bell tower, drum tower, and front gate remained.

By the Zhu Liang period, Chang'an had become a tug-of-war ground between Zhu Wen and Li Maozhen; monks were either killed or forced to return to lay life and pressed into labor, and the Great Xingshan Temple fell into utter ruin.

Like the White Horse Temple, it was only after Zhang Zhao entered the Eastern Capital that the Great Xingshan Temple began to be rebuilt.

Or rather, it began even earlier — as soon as Zhang Zhao opened the Hexi trade routes and Chang'an began to recover its vitality, the rebuilding of the Great Xingshan Temple had already started.

Its Hall of the Heavenly Kings and the Great Hero Hall were only completed at the beginning of this year, and they were truly magnificent, solemn, and awe-inspiring.

Inside the Great Hero Hall, an emaciated old monk whose features resembled a man of India gazed at the solemn Buddha statues and the grand hall, his eyes brimming with rapture.

Behind him followed two burly bhikshus who, though dressed in black robes, had the bearing of men who were anything but monks.

"Namo Great Compassionate Guanshiyin, may I swiftly know all dharmas. Namo Great Compassionate Guanshiyin, may I soon gain the eye of wisdom. Namo Great Compassionate Guanshiyin, may I swiftly deliver all beings. Namo Great Compassionate Guanshiyin, may I soon attain skillful means."

As the monk chanted the Great Compassion Dharani Sutra, he quickened his pace, looking about joyfully in every direction.

After a long while, the monk led the two burly bhikshus back to the center of the Great Hero Hall.

"Excellent, excellent. Do you two know what this poor monk has seen?"

The two burly men behind him were completely baffled. The younger-looking one craned his neck forward and asked, "What has the Master seen? Could it be that, seeing this great temple so resplendent in gold and jade, you wish to stay here a while?

And I wonder how the temple fare tastes — could it have a bit more oil and fat? This one is truly somewhat hungry."

"All that comes out of your mouth is eating, eating, eating. No wonder you Tuyuhun savages never amount to anything!"

The older one, pockmarked with small eyes and skin as black as a Kunlun slave, flew into a rage at hearing the young man bring up food again.

But the young man jutted out his neck and rolled his eyes. "My Helian clan are Tuyuhun savages — and you, Yan Kunlun, is your Murong clan not Tuyuhun savages too?"

This dark-skinned older bhikshu was none other than Liu Zhiyuan's half-brother by the same mother, "Yan Kunlun" Murong Yanchao, while the younger bhikshu was Helian Hailong of the Helian clan of the Yinshan Tuyuhun.

And the emaciated Indian monk before them was none other than the Tripitaka Master Cixian, who had appeared that day at Xiangji Temple, crossed paths with Zhang Zhao, and was known as the last eminent Indian monk in history.

Hearing the two men behind him arguing, he did not grow angry, nor of course did he step in to mediate; instead he continued chanting the Heart of Prajnaparamita Sutra upon a meditation cushion before the statue of Shakyamuni Buddha in the Great Hero Hall.

The Tuyuhun people devoutly believe in the Buddha, and Helian Hailong, who had always lived among the Tuyuhun in the tribes, believed somewhat more than a killer like Murong Yanchao.

Seeing Master Cixian kneeling and chanting, he too slowly knelt down and chanted along: "Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, when practicing deeply the Prajnaparamita, illuminated the five aggregates and saw them all empty..."

Murong Yanchao stood for a short while, then grew bored, and finally found a meditation cushion and knelt upon it as well.

Only when the 260-character Heart of Prajnaparamita Sutra had been chanted to completion did Master Cixian open his eyes. Without turning around, he again questioned Murong Yanchao and Helian Hailong.

"Just now this old monk asked you two whether you knew what this old monk had seen. Have you gained any insight now?"

Helian Hailong scratched his head, looked around, and inwardly grumbled: Master, how would I know what you saw?

Murong Yanchao, however, was an old hand and naturally understood what this meant. He sighed. "Master, if you have something to say, say it plainly. Rough men like us cannot grasp your Chan riddles."

Master Cixian chuckled, and a mischievous, childlike smile actually appeared on his face. "In this hall, in this Great Xingshan Temple, this old monk has seen the Buddha!"

Helian Hailong could not help rolling his eyes at this. He pointed at the statues of Shakyamuni Buddha, Maitreya Buddha, and Kasyapa Buddha in the Great Hero Hall and said,

"This disciple thought the Master was going to say something profound. This Great Xingshan Temple is so magnificent — of course there are many Buddhas! Right before our eyes there are three of them."

Master Cixian shook his head. "Not these clay statues with gilded bodies, but a true Buddha walking in the world."

Behind him, Murong Yanchao's expression changed. His eyes narrowed by habit, his hand unconsciously drifted toward his waist, and his entire bearing shifted — from a stray dog slinking along the street with its tail between its legs, to a starving wolf about to choose a victim and devour it.

"Perhaps the Master would care to speak more plainly!"

Hmph! A true Buddha walking in the world — who else could that be but Sage Zhang, who styles himself the Supreme Heaven, Great Compassion, Great Wisdom, Great Perfection, Wheel-Turning Dharma King?

Master Cixian completely ignored the killing intent erupting from Murong Yanchao, and pointed at the exquisitely carved, brightly colored Buddha statues around them.

"People say that the Shaoming Sage sets himself up as Supreme Heaven, and that what he calls propagating the Dharma is in truth destroying Buddhism — that he intends to carry out a Huichang-style persecution of Buddhism, just as the Great Dynasty's Emperor Wu did in former days.

But this old monk has traveled through seven provinces north and south, and everywhere I saw ancient temples and cave shrines being restored, and scattered sutras being collected and printed.

The Buddha's compassion is not only spreading to the grasslands; on the high plateau, the Buddha's light that was suppressed after the Tsenpo Langdarma is also about to revive.

This Great Xingshan Temple was destroyed in the Huichang persecution, yet it has been rebuilt in the Shaoming years. To still say that Supreme Heaven is destroying Buddhism — is that not self-contradictory?"

This actually stemmed from Zhang Zhao's later-era thinking. In later ages, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism had long since merged into one; all three were treasures of Chinese culture, and the corresponding ancient temples and cave shrines were priceless treasures.

For example, the Mogao Caves of Dunhuang and the sutra scrolls within them — had it not been for the emergence of an Emperor Zhang, who would have paid attention to such "trifles" in distant Shazhou and Dunhuang?

But in later ages, the Dunhuang Mogao Caves and their scrolls were national treasures of the highest order, beyond any praise, and also a pain in the hearts of the Chinese people.

Before Zhang Zhao transmigrated, he had always disliked people who fawned over Zhang Daqian, and it began from this.

So after he came to this world, he naturally took an extraordinary interest in protecting these ancient temples and cave shrines, and within three years he three times allocated special funds to restore the Tianlong Mountain grottoes in Taiyuan and the Longmen Grottoes in Luoyang.

Small-scale cave shrines in other places also received funds for restoration in many cases.

What of it that they were restored? These things restored in the Five Dynasties would still be treasures of the nation when the Republic era arrived.

This was the same principle as Sage Zhang, who did not particularly love painting, yet had court painters depict and record every great event — these were all the most precious spiritual riches left to posterity!

But when it came to Master Cixian, he naturally could not understand Zhang Zhao's mindset, and so his understanding was somewhat off the mark.

In addition, Zhang Zhao had always promised outwardly that the Six Dharmas Sect would not enter the Central Plains.

And Pei Yuan's moves against the Buddhist establishment were aimed at its vices — not paying taxes, collecting metal objects (mainly high-purity copper) to cast Buddha statues and thereby causing coin shortages, and self-mutilation as almsgiving.

This made Master Cixian, the more he saw, the harder it was to believe that Zhang Zhao intended to destroy Buddhism.

"I observe that Supreme Heaven acts with a compassionate heart, spreads the Dharma with grand methods, and has rendered my Buddha's teachings the service of saving them from extinction. Though the Six Dharmas Sect's interpretation of the scriptures differs from mine, it is no enemy of the Buddha.

Look instead at the Buddhist establishment of the Central Lands — bent solely on profit, chanting compassion with their mouths while their hearts dwell on the stink of copper. They have not the slightest appearance of delivering others or themselves.

If Supreme Heaven is willing to correct this, is that not exactly in keeping with his duty to rectify and purify the Dharma? How can he not be counted as a true Buddha walking in the world?"

Murong Yanchao felt a chill spreading through him as he listened. He half-understood, half-did-not what Master Cixian was saying, but he knew very well in his heart that this old monk was likely about to defect.

Killing intent surged to the heavens. The reason I, Murong Yan Kunlun, fell from a hero who fought the Khitan to my present status as a rat everyone wants to beat, is that my jianghu temperament is too heavy, my vision too small, and I lost the boldness of a commander of armies.

At this moment, seeing the old monk about to defect, his first thought was actually to kill an eminent monk like Master Cixian to eliminate future trouble.

But before he could move, Helian Hailong stepped in front of him. "Yan Kunlun, if you dare lay a hand on the Master, you'll have to get past me first!"

Murong Yanchao was furious. Pointing at Master Cixian, he shouted at Helian Hailong, "You stupid slave, aren't you afraid the old monk will sell us all out?"

Helian Hailong's expression changed, but after thinking for a moment, he still stepped between Murong Yanchao and Master Cixian. "No matter what, you cannot harm the Master in the slightest."

"Excellent! Excellent!" Master Cixian suddenly chanted the Buddha's name. He stood up, turned around, and looked at Murong Yanchao.

"Murong danyue, the Chief Minister of the Guanzhong Branch Secretariat, the current imperial father-in-law, Duke of Qiao, Cao Yuanzhong, is imprisoned right here in this temple. If you can rescue him, your difficulties will naturally be resolved.

Furthermore, the family of the Duke of Qingyang Commandery is also detained here. If you can rescue them as well, that would be an immense favor.

With these two great deeds, one public and one private, everything the danyue has lost will return at once."

Hearing this, Murong Yanchao felt as though a great drum were being beaten inside his heart. What did he, Murong Yanchao, seek? Of course it was the glory and wealth of days past!

But he had first received the life-saving grace of the Shaoming Son of Heaven, then defected to Liu Zhiyuan's side. After that, at Shizhou and Xizhou, he had joined the Tuyuhun in resisting the great army, and a few months ago he had even involved himself in the Xiangji Temple affair.

One matter after another, one deed after another, had dragged Murong Yanchao deeper and deeper, until he could no longer turn back and could only follow this road to its dark end.

But today, if there were such an opportunity — even if he could not recover his former power and wealth — becoming a minor wealthy meritorious official would surely be no problem, would it?

"Helian danyue, you should go as well. Do not let more than two thousand members of the Helian clan suffer the wind and sand on the high mountains of Hedong for the sake of an illusory faith.

Whether you believe in the Buddha, and how you believe, lies entirely in your own heart. This old monk only wishes that you, danyue, may soon attain great freedom."

A look of struggle appeared on Helian Hailong's face. Thinking of his mother, wife, and children still sheltering in the wind and dew on Mount Luliang, he wavered. Slowly he knelt, and before the statue of Shakyamuni Buddha, he performed a full prostration to Master Cixian.

"Many thanks for the Master's guidance. Helian Erlang can no longer guard the Master."

Master Cixian smiled as he told the two men where Cao Yuanzhong and Cao Shisiniang were imprisoned. The two immediately walked out.

Watching them leave, Master Cixian again chanted "Namo Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva," then gazed into the distance.

"Yanshou, do you still cannot let it go?"

From behind the Buddha statue, a tall, thin figure suddenly emerged — it was none other than the monk Yanshou, who had come from Qianyue. He walked over quickly, pressed his palms together, and bowed.

"Master, the Six Dharma Sect distorts our Buddha's great meaning of compassion. It is a heretical path. Forgive Yanshou, but I cannot agree with the view you just expressed."

Master Cixian smiled, took Yanshou's hand, and said, "In this old monk's view, so long as one acts with a heart of great compassion to deliver all living beings, that is the Way. There is the orthodox path and the outer path, but there is no heretical path.

And who is orthodox and who is outer lies not in the scriptures, but in the people who chant and expound the scriptures."

The monk Yanshou closed his eyes and thought for a moment. A look of struggle appeared on his face. After a long while, he opened his eyes and still stubbornly shook his head.

"Master, I still cannot accept it. However, since the Shaoming Son of Heaven does not intend to destroy Buddhism, then I will not involve myself in these worldly affairs. Yanshou will return to Qianyue."

Master Cixian sighed deeply upon hearing this. He knew what this monk Yanshou was going back to do.

"The character 'obsession' in your heart has not yet been put down. You are due for a calamity of surging waves. This old monk cannot dissuade you, and can only pray for you day and night before the Buddha."

"Namo Great Freedom Bodhisattva." Yanshou bowed once to Master Cixian.

"The Southern Tang and Wuyue can build hundred-zhang great ships, and among their believers are many who cross water as if walking on flat ground. Yanshou will return now to recruit them."

As he spoke, the stubborn look on Yanshou's face turned to resolve. This man — one of the founding patriarchs of the Pure Land school in history — made a great vow in his heart.

"If in this world there truly is the Eastern Continent of Pervasive Body, truly the waters of the vast deep, truly rice like pearls and jade hanging from trees, beans the size of fists buried in the earth, and eggplants red as fire surpassing winter persimmons — these three things that can relieve the hunger and suffering of all living beings under heaven —

then I, Yanshou, will acknowledge him as the Supreme Dharma King. But if there are none —

Hmph! When Yanshou returns, that will be the day the Six Dharma Sect is scattered like smoke and clouds!"

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