Chapter 356: Cutting Flesh to Feed the Hawks

Dou Zhile sat on the threshold of the magistrate's house gate, puffing on a big pipe, his back seeming to hunch a bit more.

Dou Jinsuo shouted, "Uncle Two, Xiao Jiu Zhanggui has come."

Dou Zhile stood up and greeted, "Here you are, Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, thanks for the trouble."

I asked, "What's going on? Where did these hawks come from? What do they want to do?"

"They want to eat meat..."

As soon as Dou Zhile finished speaking, the hawks suddenly became restless, crying nonstop, their voices turning shrill.

Looking at them, the first thing that came to mind was Feng Xianqiu.

As the saying goes, "All birds pay homage to the phoenix"; the Feng Clan is the foremost among birds, so the members of the Feng Clan are quite mixed.

Those of pure bloodline are instead very few.

Feng Xianqiu is most skilled at controlling birds; crows and bats are common, but such large hawks—I've never seen them before.

But I quickly realized I might have been mistaken.

In the midst of speaking, we had already walked into the courtyard.

A rustling sound came from the attic, and we halted in our steps.

The next moment, we saw chunks of flesh, as if alive, crawling up the walls nonstop, then falling onto those corpses along the Qiankun Mandarin Duck Hook.

Those corpses, already riddled with wounds and shriveled like paper, after the flesh attached to them, miraculously became plump.

I thought, even if Hua Tuo were alive, he couldn't perform such a miraculous cure.

"How could this be..."

Bai Jingmo's incredulous voice sounded behind us; I turned to see when Bai Jingmo and Bai Shulan had arrived.

Bai Shulan walked to my side and stood still.

I whispered, "To be frank, as the Bai Family's divine physician, do you have this 'resurrecting the dead' method?"

Bai Shulan shook her head: "I can't do it, but this isn't resurrecting the dead."

I raised an eyebrow: "From what you're saying, you know what's going on?"

As the words fell, a hawk swooped down, its long, hard beak digging deep into the magistrate's body, tearing off a piece of skin and flesh, raising its neck, and actually swallowing it whole.

The bloody smell quickly spread through the air.

The remaining hawks went mad, charging forward just like that one, incessantly tearing at the flesh... The scene was extremely bloody, nauseating.

I glanced at Dou Zhile, feeling uncertain, and asked, "Is it not time yet?"

Dou Zhile's eyes fixed on the attic, he said, "It's not time yet; wait a bit longer."

Bai Shulan saw I still didn't understand and asked, "Xiao Jiu, have you heard the story of the Buddha cutting his flesh to feed the hawks?"

The Buddha cutting his flesh to feed the hawks is a classic Buddhist tale of self-sacrifice to save a life.

It tells of a dove chased by a hawk, fleeing into the embrace of King Sabo Da for help.

King Sabo Da was the Buddha's past life.

King Sabo Da cut flesh from his own body to feed the hawk in order to save the dove.

This story conveys the Buddhist core spirit of self-sacrifice and compassion.

The Buddha cutting his flesh to feed the hawk saved the dove, transformed the hawk, elevated the Buddhist realm, and the Buddha became the Buddha.

I unconsciously narrowed my eyes, looking at the hawks still tearing at the flesh on the attic; for a moment my mind was in utter chaos.

Hawks, flesh, evil monks...

Everything seemed able to be linked together, yet everything was also a paradox.

They... are they really trying to create a god!

"Quick! Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, the moment has come!"

Dou Zhile suddenly grew tense, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me toward the magistrate's house.

By then, those corpses had been almost torn apart by the hawks, leaving only skeletons.

Bai Jingmo flashed to block Dou Zhile: "What are you crazy about? Are you sending Xiao Jiu to his death? Those beasts will eat meat!"

"They only eat sacrificial meat!" Dou Zhile also shouted, "Xiao Jiu Zhanggui is resolute; she won't be tempted, and if not offered as sacrifice, she won't be eaten!"

Bai Shulan calmly said, "Jingmo, step aside."

Bai Jingmo looked at Bai Shulan, then at me, and finally slowly turned sideways to make way.

Dou Zhile escorted me to the attic steps, shoved a smoke pot full of tobacco oil into my hands, and urged: "Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, don't be afraid; whatever you see or hear up there, don't believe it; if you can't hold on, use my smoke pot to puff at them!"

I took the smoke pot, gripped it, inhaled deeply, and stepped onto the first step.

I have been to the magistrate's house before.

Just up there in the attic, I almost got nailed to death in a red coffin.

Actually, we have always feared the red coffins and didn't understand why they were made.

Again, human skin, again sacrifice.

We seem to have tacitly accepted that all this is done to suppress the black coffin in Zhu Pan Jiang.

Inside the black coffin is sealed Chen Ping.

But sometimes I again get a feeling that something is off.

I just couldn't find a reasonable explanation.

And today, I seem to have found an answer.

Sacrifice... only sacrificial meat do they eat...

This courtyard has grown old; I don't know how many years it has existed.

The wooden steps creaked underfoot.

Before reaching the top, I already smelled a strong stench of blood.

The spot where Mei Lin Shuang's red coffin had been placed is now covered in bloodstains on the ground, and even some flesh remnants can be seen.

A small door opens on the side of the attic.

I know that as long as I push open this small door and go out, I will be able to see those several corpses.

No, they now consist only of complete skulls and skeletons.

I placed my right hand on the small door's handle, and it felt icy cold to the touch.

I shoved the door open, and a gust of Yīnfēng blew straight into my face; I instinctively closed my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, however, I did not see those several skeletons.

Nor did I see the Heaven-Earth Mandarin Duck Hook.

Even what I was stepping on with my feet was not the attic's floor.

That was a canyon.

A river like a white silk ribbon runs through the entire canyon; on the far bank stands a tall tower.

On this side, sitting cross-legged is a… monk.

That monk lowered his head slightly, closed his eyes, held a string of prayer beads in his hand, and continuously chanted sutras.

Even with his head lowered, I recognized him at once—he was Dahui Chan Master Liu Xingyi… no, that's wrong, this is not Liu Xingyi.

Because I saw that beneath his kasaya, his exposed arms were covered in white, blood-stained scales.

I instinctively took a step back.

The monk had already lifted his head.

Our eyes met, and I saw that he had a pair of amber-colored vertical pupils, with a golden halo around them… no, impossible.

This cannot be Liu Junyan!

This is an illusion!

Realizing this, I snapped back to consciousness, grabbed the big smoke pot in my hand, strode over, raised it, and slammed it hard onto the monk's head… blood spattered everywhere…

I looked at the blood-stained smoke pot, then at the monk whose face was covered in blood, and my mind felt somewhat disordered.

No, still not right.

If it were an illusion, smashing this big smoke pot down should make the other party disappear.

Rather than causing blood to flow…