Chapter 763: Oh No, I Can Only Found a Scientific Divine Religion

On the tenth day of the fourth month, Zhang Zhao once again set out from Beiping Prefecture, traveling north to Chengde Prefecture.

And this time, even the air itself seemed tinged with a restless, irritable edge.

For since he had gone beyond the frontier the previous year, the twenty to thirty thousand conscripted young men Zhang Zhao had recruited in the Helong region had now been away from their homes for a full nine months.

It must be understood that these were not active-duty soldiers, but young lads conscripted directly from beside their parents, and this had nearly reached the limit of what they could endure.

This was also why Zhang Zhao had summoned the tribal chieftains of the grasslands, the highlands, and Songmo to Chengde for the Township Archery Gathering, and why he had set the date in the fourth month — the time had come to send these Helong young men home.

Sandalwood incense curled upward in wisps, and Buddhist chants rose in waves.

By now Chengde Prefecture had become an ocean of the Dharma. Monks from every corner of the land, wearing all manner of ceremonial robes and monastic vestments, threaded through the streets and alleys of Chengde Prefecture.

It was as though in an instant every monk under heaven had rushed here. Their numbers were so great that they had already exceeded the capacity of Chengde Prefecture's great temples to receive them.

Even after Zhang Zhao opened up the government offices of Chengde Prefecture, great and small, it still was not enough, and he could only let residents with the means begin taking in these out-of-town monks who had arrived.

Since the last time Murong Xinzhang reported to Zhang Zhao that Master Cixian had come to see him with Murong Yanchao, Helian Hailong, and Gao Song, Zhang Zhao had immediately agreed to let the three of them follow Murong Xinzhang.

Zhang Zhao had also specially summoned the three of them, agreeing to let Helian Hailong return to Hedong to bring his clansmen to Liaodong.

He also gave the title of Qihuo Lang, which he himself had once used in Anxi, to Murong Yanchao, ordering him to organize the thugs of Wuning Township, the old yabing guards recruited by men like Xue Huairang, and the Buddhist evildoers rooted out by Pei Yuan.

With Murong Yanchao as Chief Commander, and Zhao Siwan and others as Deputy Commanders, they formed the ferocious cannon-fodder unit that in the future would make the little Soba and little Baka too afraid to speak its name aloud — the Qihuo Night Demon Yaksha.

As for Gao Song, he was appointed Front Marshal of the Liaoyang Commandery Prince's Overlord Manor, ordered to recruit fifty thousand Bohai and Jurchen tribesmen, select two thousand elite troops from among them, and serve as the vanguard for the campaign against Goryeo.

However, apart from those three, Zhang Zhao did not summon Master Cixian. My Sage Zhang's state of mind was very steady, and he had ample patience.

A renowned eminent monk like Master Cixian, whose name would be remembered by later generations, possessed an extremely resolute mind. Under ordinary circumstances, let alone Zhang Zhao, even if the Buddha himself truly descended — even if Bodhidharma were reborn — it would be very difficult to sway his state of mind.

Therefore, although Master Cixian said he had given rise to an inner demon, Zhang Zhao still did not dare believe it lightly.

One must understand: a religious super-boss who had walked from the Indus River valley, over several years, on nothing but his own two legs, across twenty thousand li to preach in Khitan territory —

who could be seated as an honored guest by Shulu Ping and Yelu Deguang, and who more than a thousand years after his passing could still make the national news — could such an eminent monk be a simple man? Could he be an honest man?

This was already a figure infinitely close to Tang Sanzang. To call him a ten-thousand-year-old fox would not be an exaggeration.

The lies he told were exactly like the truth. You simply could not distinguish which of his words were true and which were false.

Toward this kind of person, I, Sage Zhang, have always maintained twelve parts of vigilance.

Do not be fooled by his identity as a Wushangtian — precisely because of that, Zhang Zhao understood all the more clearly that in the heart of someone like Master Cixian, he was in fact the least believing in Buddha.

What he believed in was only the philosophy and wisdom concerning outlook on life and the world left by the Sakyamuni who truly existed; the propagation and enrichment of the Dharma by eminent monks and great worthies over more than a thousand years of successive dynasties; the dialectical reasoning of the monastic order — the essence produced in that one era of philosophical explosion unique to the Indian subcontinent.

He believed only that he himself could attain great fulfillment through a compassionate heart and cultivation. If you asked him whether Buddha existed, he would surely answer: Buddha dwells in the heart.

Zhang Zhao had no confidence at all in confronting such a purely religious figure, so he simply refused to meet him, deciding first to confirm that Master Cixian was not trying to ensnare him before making his choice.

In fact, what Zhang Zhao did not know was that Master Cixian truly had not tried to ensnare him. The reasoning was very simple: precisely because he was an eminent monk who did not believe gods and Buddhas truly existed, who believed only in truth, he had fallen into Zhang Zhao's trap.

If an ordinary person heard Zhang Zhao speak of the Eastern Purvavideha Continent, of the waters of the vast deep, of potatoes, corn, and tomatoes, they would only stand there dumbfounded and say: How truly great is the Buddha! How truly compassionate!

But Master Cixian was absolutely certain that no gods or Buddhas existed in this world, and yet Zhang Zhao, in such an identity, spoke with such conviction, and was not afraid of others verifying it — that made things very difficult.

Did gods and Buddhas exist or not? Did the Eastern Purvavideha Continent exist or not? With Master Cixian's current understanding, he simply could not answer, and this was the major reason an inner demon had arisen in his heart.

In fact, the monk Yanshou, who had left Chang'an, was the same. Apart from his indignation at Zhang Zhao — or rather at the Six Dharma Sect — for tampering with the scriptures, his greatest doubt was the same as Master Cixian's.

In this damn world, does Buddha actually exist or not?

After Master Cixian had waited for Zhang Zhao in Beiping Prefecture for more than ten days, he could wait no longer. He felt as though there were a fire in his heart, burning him until his whole body was unbearably stifled, until he felt he wanted to vomit blood.

To suppress this fire of the inner demon, Master Cixian simply returned to Puji Temple in Jinzhou Prefecture, where he was lodging.

This temple was the later Great Guangji Temple of Jinzhou, and the famous Liao-dynasty ancient pagoda of Jinzhou stood within its grounds.

Only at this time, Puji Temple had not yet been renovated by successive emperors of the Liao state, and its scale was still relatively small.

After Master Cixian returned to Guangji Temple, he immediately shut himself away, facing the wall in silent meditation in the meditation hall.

But this method, which had always worked before to restrain the desires of the heart, was utterly incapable of resolving the question now in his mind.

Did the common people under heaven live in a world with gods and Buddhas, or a world without gods and Buddhas?

If they did exist, and everything had been arranged by gods and Buddhas, then why did the people of this world live at all? What meaning was there in existence? Where did human birth, aging, sickness, and death come from, and where should the soul go?

In the middle of the third month, Master Cixian once again walked for more than ten days, from Jinzhou to Chengde Prefecture, arriving at the future Great Zhaoming Temple that was being prepared to enshrine Zhang Zhao. He found a meditation cushion outside the Mahavira Hall and sat down in meditation, and from then on never left.

It was only at this moment that Zhang Zhao began to believe somewhat that this renowned eminent monk truly was bound by an inner demon.

Zhang Zhao put on a black monastic robe. The robe was already extremely worn; from the pilling that covered its surface alone, one could imagine how many years it had endured.

Master Cixian spotted Zhang Zhao from far off. He remained kneeling on the meditation cushion without rising, and after intoning a Buddhist invocation, said with a faint smile: "The Dharma King has become attached to appearances. Whether coarse cloth or fine brocade, neither can alter the Dharma King's true form."

Master Cixian felt only awe and bewilderment at the questions Zhang Zhao had raised. Toward Zhang Zhao himself, and toward his whole act of turning himself into a living god and Buddha, Master Cixian was in fact somewhat averse.

Zhang Zhao smiled faintly. "If the Master believes it makes no difference whether I wear coarse cloth or fine brocade, why then does he fix his attention upon it? Is it not the Master who has become attached to appearances?"

Master Cixian heard this, was stunned for a few breaths, then smiled faintly. "The inner demon is formidable indeed. This old monk has indeed become attached to appearances."

As he spoke, he pulled a meditation cushion from beside him and placed it opposite, then gestured for Zhang Zhao to sit.

After Zhang Zhao sat down without refusing, Master Cixian finally spoke and asked: "The Dharma King once said that in this world there is the Eastern Purvavideha Continent, the Southern Jambudvipa Continent, and the Three Treasures by which the Buddha relieves suffering and hardship, and also the waters of the vast deep. What is the source of these?"

As he spoke, Master Cixian suddenly fixed his gaze on Zhang Zhao: "The Dharma King absolutely must not say that the Buddha told you this.

Because the Four Great Continents first appeared in the Agama Sutras, and by that time the Buddha had long since entered nirvana. As for the waters of the vast deep, that was spoken by Li Taibai, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the Buddha."

Zhang Zhao was laughing inwardly with delight. So it turned out that this big monk, who chanted 'Namo Sakyamuni Buddha' with his mouth, was an atheist in his heart.

Or rather, the man before him was not some superstitious fraud, but a very clear-headed philosopher — a man of culture.

It was precisely this kind of person who was useful!

Wasn't the monk Yanshou seeking verification? But setting out from Ningbo to cross the Pacific was still too unrealistic. If one attempted it from Japan, or followed the coast northward along the continent, it truly might be possible.

The Age of Exploration was not a pleasant phrase. Without extraordinary persistence and willpower — without even the blessing of religion, that opiate of the soul — it would be very hard to persevere.

Weren't this Master Cixian and his disciples and descendants, along with the monk Yanshou in Jiangnan, precisely the most suitable people?

Immediately, Sage Zhang also began trading sharp repartee with Master Cixian: "The Buddha dwells within my heart. My great fulfillment comes entirely from the deliverance of my own heart, following the compassionate intent of the Buddha.

If the Master asks how I know all this, I will say: it is Heaven's will. It was Heaven's will that brought me the study of things, the study of transformation, geography, biology, and botany, and let me know all this."

Master Cixian could not help reaching up to rub his bristly shaven head. Of what Zhang Zhao had just said, apart from the two terms 'study of things' and 'geography,' which were somewhat familiar to him, he understood the words of the rest, but had absolutely no idea what they meant.

Zhang Zhao did not wait for Master Cixian to ask, but took the initiative to explain. "The study of the nature of things has let me know how this world is composed; the study of transforming things can let me compose a new world.

Geography has let me know that this realm under heaven is not merely the Central Plains, India, Transoxiana, the great desert, and the lands of Rome and the Arabs. Since the lands west of the Central Plains are so vast, can there not be another new world east of the Central Plains, on the far shore of the great ocean?

Since the Former Han, foreign onions, foreign garlic, foreign coriander, foreign beans, foreign melons, foreign radishes, foreign walnuts, foreign sesame, foreign pepper, pomegranates, jujubes, and honey melons have all come from the west, nourishing countless people.

Can it be that in the east, there are no such edible things to relieve the world's hunger and suffering? There surely are — this is the study of plants."

Master Cixian listened, his eyes blinking rapidly. He felt that this Unsurpassed Heavenly Dharma King was not exactly discussing Buddhist doctrine with him, yet within it there was no lack of the true meaning of the Dharma. Some of it sounded absurd, yet also seemed to make some sense.

Of course, Zhang Zhao knew there were many holes in his words. The current situation was actually that he was relying on his status, novelty, and Master Cixian's inner demon to cover over the holes.

He had to seize this most convenient moment for instilling theory and increase the intensity of his output.

"Does the Master know, I have been pondering one matter. This notion of a round heaven and square earth is very likely wrong, because it cannot explain the rising and setting of the sun and the ebb and flow of the tides that we have seen.

For example, the setting sun at this moment — it rose over the grasslands this morning. If heaven were round and earth square, then at sunset it ought to fall onto the grasslands.

Even if it is very far from us, we should still have heard rumors of the setting sun falling to the ground!

Look again at the tall mountains in the distance — they cannot block the setting sun either. After we cross the mountains, the sun is still in the sky.

I have thought it over, and there is only one possibility: the sun is forever in the sky, and it has never set at all.

The flat ground we see is only an illusion. This world is not square, but a round sphere, and we live upon this sphere.

I believe that if we keep traveling east for nine million li, we will surely return here from the west."

Master Cixian looked in the direction Zhang Zhao's finger pointed, and for a time his mind and spirit were shaken. His whole person was at times dazed, at times clear-headed.

"Is the Dharma King saying that, several hundred years ago, Zhang Nanyang of the Later Han once said: the celestial sphere is like a chicken's egg, the earth like the yolk within, dwelling alone inside, heaven great and earth small — that this is the word of truth?

But if it is so, and we dwell upon a round sphere, would we not have our feet pointing up and our heads pointing down? How could we stand securely?"

Zhang Zhao nodded without the slightest hesitation, and with utter shamelessness said: "The Zhang Nanyang the Master speaks of is none other than my own ancestor! As for the question the Master raises — is that not precisely what the Master ought to investigate for himself?"

When Master Cixian heard this, he only felt that there must be something wrong somewhere, but he had already fallen into it. A six-month-long inner demon! It had long since burned him into something no longer like a normal person.

While he was still in doubt, he heard me, the Unsurpassed One of Zhang, heave a long sigh. "I am hindered by this silk robe upon my body, and have not yet brought peace to the myriad people of the realm, and therefore cannot set out on the road. Otherwise I would truly wish to pilot a light skiff to that far shore and probe such truth of heaven and man.

I imagine the Master's inner demon arose suddenly not from doubt as to whether the Buddha exists, but rather because you have clearly studied the sutras of our Buddha to their utmost, spread our Buddha's heart of great compassion to the four seas, yet still cannot ferry yourself to completion, still cannot explain such truths of heaven and earth."

Master Cixian's heart jolted, as if struck on the head by a staff. He stood frozen on the spot.

Indeed! How could a person of such firm will as himself give rise to demonic obstruction from a few words? It must truly be because the meaning of the Buddhist sutras could no longer resolve the questions in his heart.

Zhang Zhao did not disturb Master Cixian, who seemed to have entered samadhi, but turned and left.

At this moment, it was time to let Master Cixian fill in the blanks himself. If he said more, more holes would inevitably appear — better to leave at once.

Outside the Great Hero Hall, several blue-robed Daoist priests in Daoist vestments appeared within Zhang Zhao's line of sight. Zhang Zhao summoned them before him.

"You have all seen it. Though the Dharma came from abroad, it has already intermingled with the culture of our Central Plains. The Daoist school has fallen far behind!

Though I bear the title of Dharma King, I am even more an emperor of Huaxia. The gates of the Bureau of Works and the Bureau of Alchemy are open to you at any time.

I care not whether it is the Ma family of Junshan, the Zhang family of Dragon-Tiger Mountain, the Returning Daoist of the Elixir Cauldron school, the Daoist Liu Haichanzi, the Daoist Peng Zhenyizi, or the perfected Wang Tuan and the other great perfected ones or their successors.

If you wish the theory of Laozi converting the barbarians to stand firm, then what you gentlemen ought to do, and how to do it — you should still come to the Bureau of Works and the Bureau of Medicines in the Divine Capital and discuss it properly."

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