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墨書 Inktalez
The sound of rustling echoed at the entrance of the dilapidated temple. Both of them turned to look, and a young boy dressed in a blue monk's robe entered. He appeared to be around thirteen years old. Upon seeing the two roasting meat before the Buddha, he pointed directly at the skewers and said, "Why do you insult the Buddha like this, benefactors?"
Liu Lao Jiu found the child's accusation amusing upon hearing his tender voice. He chuckled and replied, "The wine and meat pass through the intestines, but they remain in the Buddha's heart. What does a little novice like me understand?"
"The master says that one must show respect through their actions when worshiping the Buddha; only then can one truly honor him. If you can't even pay your respects, how can you talk about honoring the Buddha?" the Little Monk argued.
"Have I ever seen the Buddha?" Liu Lao Jiu suddenly asked.
The Little Monk shook his head. "I've seen him in my dreams."
"Seeing him in a dream? What does that count as? Did he see Siddhartha Gautama in his dreams too?" Liu Lao Jiu said while tearing off a piece of roasted meat from the fire and taking a big bite, making the Little Monk swallow hard.
"Perhaps I haven't seen him at all," the Little Monk shook his head again. "But I respect the Buddha."
"What do you mean by respecting him? The Buddha is not something to be revered just for reverence's sake," Gu Ping chimed in, teasing the somewhat naive Little Monk.
"What is the Buddha for then?" The Little Monk suddenly seemed confused. "Isn't he meant to be revered?"
"Shouldn't he be saving all beings?" Gu Ping asked the Little Monk, clearly indicating that the Little Monk had no real concept of saving beings.
"Saving beings? Yes, isn't that what the Buddha does? But shouldn't he be respected?" The Little Monk insisted, feeling that respecting the Buddha was inherently correct.
"The Buddha is worthy of respect because he saves those who seek help," Gu Ping pointed to the statue of Avalokiteshvara above them and said, "I see no use in that statue."
"I can't rely on someone who can't save me. Even if Siddhartha Gautama were here right now, I wouldn't survive," Liu Lao Jiu laughed heartily from the side, dropping two pieces of meat from his mouth. Though he didn't appear particularly messy, it was clear he was quite unkempt.
"Do you trust in the Buddha?" the Little Monk asked as he approached the campfire, seeking warmth.
He himself was skeptical; the Buddha couldn't save him now. Gu Ping thought to himself that Liu Lao Jiu was wrong—no matter if Siddhartha Gautama himself appeared, it wouldn't change the fact that Gu Ping's life was already in ruins.
If the Buddha could save him, would he believe in the Buddha?
Yes, he would. Whoever could save him, he would believe in them—regardless of whether they were gods or Buddhas, or even Ksitigarbha Yama. He would pray to whoever could help him and burn incense daily. Gu Ping pressed his palms together and bowed around, putting on a show to tease the Little Monk.
If the Little Monk could save him, would he believe in the Buddha?
Gu Ping nodded with a smile. Yes, he said, whoever could save him, he would believe in them.
Liu Lao Jiu, watching from the side, interjected, "Don't get carried away now. Be careful not to drag me into this with you."
Upon hearing Liu Lao Jiu's words, Gu Ping gradually wiped the smile off his face. No, he couldn't involve them any further, especially not someone he didn't even know.
Innocent? It seemed no one was truly innocent. But what could Gu Ping do about it?
What was he even doing here? There was no Buddha around. It suddenly dawned on Gu Ping that in Great Jin, the state religion was Daoism; there wouldn't be anyone believing in Buddhism here. Tai Xu Dao couldn't possibly allow its own followers to turn to Buddhism. Hadn't he seen how dilapidated those temples had become? Who knew how long it had been since they were maintained?
In his dreams, he encountered the Buddha again. The Buddha warned him that a demon would soon appear and instructed him to send a disciple from the nearest Buddhist sect to eliminate it beforehand.
The mention of demons made both of them fall silent. They simultaneously thought of Zhuang Zhi Xian—the one who had been expelled from the mountain for being suspected of becoming a demon.
"Did Buddha tell you anything about that demon?" Gu Ping asked.
The Little Monk shook his head. "Buddha didn't say, only mentioned that the demonic energy is easily recognizable."
"Did Buddha tell you my name?" Liu Lao Jiu teased the Little Monk, but he didn't expect the Little Monk's next words would leave both of them speechless.
"Buddha said he taught Ling Chanzi, and my master is Ling Chan. The other disciples are like him," the Little Monk proudly boasted, lifting his head. That name given by Buddha was of utmost nobility.
"Where does that Ling Chanzi come from?" Liu Lao Jiu asked curiously. It seemed that meeting Buddha was no ordinary feat for the Little Monk; at least, not everyone could meet Buddha.
"My master doesn't allow me to say. He says when you're out in the world, you must rely on yourself for everything and not misuse the temple's reputation."
Gu Ping knew that the Little Monk wouldn't lie, but how could there be demons there? There were all kinds of Daoist Sect people, and hadn't the demons already been eradicated? How could the World of Mortals still harbor demons?
Could it be that in that world there were no demons left? What demons had I eradicated?
Ordinary demons, perhaps, but true demons.
Neither Gu Ping nor Liu Lao Jiu understood what true demons were; no one had ever seen a demon, let alone distinguish between what was real and what was fake.
Why must we seek to eradicate demons?
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