From a refugee to a martial artist

Chapter 332 Visitors
The night was deep and still, with thick, dark clouds obscuring even the slightest glimmer of starlight or moonlight.

Meng Yuan, carrying his sword, stood in front of the Dugu sisters and looked at the Arhat Wusheng on the lotus throne in the distance.

"Such a person should either convert to Buddhism or be guided to Buddhahood."

The Arhat Wusheng sat high on a lotus throne. Under the dark clouds that pressed down on his head, the Buddha light on his body grew increasingly faint, like a firefly waiting for autumn rain, as if it might fall into the decaying grass at any moment.

However, the Arhat without birth possessed an air of disdain. Although his Buddha eyes were not open, he had the imposing presence of standing tall and upright. He regarded Meng Yuan as an ant, as well as other Confucian, Buddhist, and Taoist figures, and even those who came from the West, such as Jiu Jie, as mere mortals.

However, the Arhat Wusheng did not ignore or despise these ants; on the contrary, he was filled with compassion, as if he could gouge out their eyes and hearts at any moment to sever their karma.

At this moment, Meng Yuan felt as if he had returned to Songhe Prefecture in a dream, and witnessed the supreme light once again.

A pious desire to worship arose, but it was quickly suppressed. Meng Yuan steadied his mind, gripped the hilt of his sword, and focused intently on the Arhat Wusheng.

Upon hearing the decree issued by the Arhat Wusheng, the monk Jiujie immediately clasped his hands in prayer before the Arhat on the lotus platform. Then, he slowly stepped forward, passing through the devout crowd, and headed towards Meng Yuan.

"The Guru has the greatest compassion for all people, but alas, Benefactor Meng is stubborn and unyielding, even the true Buddha cannot save him. How pitiful, how lamentable."

The monk Jiujie also showed pity and regret on his face. He looked at Meng Yuan not as an enemy, but as a lost lamb.

The meditation platform was vast, and although the people here were still in a state of confusion, space had already been cleared out, clearly in preparation for the Nine Tribulations Monk to perform the ritual of salvation.

Meng Yuan stood in the middle of the open space, with Dugu Ying and Mingyue sitting cross-legged behind him, clearly no longer able to fight.

The monk Jiujie arrived at the open space, put his hands together, and looked helpless on his aged face, as if he was saddened by the suffering of all people, and as if he was saddened by the helplessness of all beings suffering but unable to be freed.

“My master said that killing is the easiest way to create obstacles, but last night when I was in meditation, the Bodhisattva Weituo appeared in my dream and taught me to use anger to cultivate a Buddha-heart, to use greed to cultivate a Buddha-heart, and to use ignorance to cultivate a Buddha-heart—kill one demon and cut off a hundred evils, only then can this world be truly pure.”

The monk Jiujie was filled with compassion, and a Buddhist light slowly rose from his body. Dark clouds hung low, with faint golden light flashing within them, leaving mottled marks on the monk Jiujie's robe.

Meng Yuan focused his attention on the Nine Tribulations Monk, but paid no more attention to the Arhat Wusheng.

Since arriving at the Zen Inquiry Platform tonight, Meng Yuan has finally seen things more clearly. There must be someone controlling the Arhat Wusheng who is performing magic here.

At this moment, Meng Yuan knew that his opponent was the Nine Tribulations Monk, a fourth-rank Buddhist monk who had received an imperial edict.

"It seems that the master will have to go through nine tribulations to attain the golden body of a Bodhisattva." Meng Yuan drew his sword, his clothes fluttering in the wind, and a faint Buddhist light enveloped his body.

In Buddhism, the original meaning of "kalpa" refers to the rise and fall of birth and death and the vastness of cause and effect. It refers to boundless time, which is like the ocean of vows and practices, which never cease to be exhausted through kalpas.

There are three kalpas: major, medium, and minor, which are tests in the cultivation process, and one must overcome obstacles one by one.

Just as Buddhism distinguishes between past Buddhas, present Buddhas, and future Buddhas, a kalpa is also divided into past kalpas, present kalpas, and future kalpas.

Buddhist scriptures say that the future Buddha will be born during the ninth minor kalpa.

"Nine tribulations are incredibly difficult; this humble monk is not qualified." The Nine Tribulations Monk continued forward, calmly stating, "The tribulations are far-reaching, beyond the reach of calculation."

"May I ask how many great tribulations you have overcome, Master?" Meng Yuanfang had just advanced to the fifth rank, while the other party was a fourth rank Buddhist. There was a difference in their realms and strengths.

Although martial artists have a tradition of killing enemies of higher ranks, they still cannot be careless.

Meng Yuan didn't know much about this Nine Tribulations Monk. At this moment, he only wanted to know what kind of Dharma this person cultivated, whether he was good at psychological warfare or hand-to-hand combat.

"This humble monk has not yet undergone tribulations, yet he already has a grand aspiration." The Nine Tribulations Monk was not in a hurry to make a move, but instead began to argue.

"I'm willing to ask you." Meng Yuan was genuinely curious.

To advance from the fourth rank to the upper three ranks in Buddhism, one must make and fulfill a great vow. The difficulties involved are self-evident, but they are not that difficult.

After all, Buddhism emphasizes cultivating the mind and places great importance on one's own inner perspective. While one may not feel that one's grand aspirations have been fulfilled and that one has attained enlightenment, one is not far off.

The Buddha light emanating from the Nine Tribulations Monk grew even stronger, suppressing the Buddha light surrounding the Arhat Wusheng on the lotus platform in the distance, like a firefly facing the bright moon.

"A great oath of nine tribulations, to suppress all demons in the world. Even if my body is shattered after nine tribulations, the demonic obstacles will not be dispelled."

It was as if the monk Jiujie had suppressed time; his aged face regained color, his wrinkles gradually faded, and he looked much younger, clearly becoming a middle-aged monk.

The monk Jiujie's black robes billowed, as if being torn by an invisible force. His face was slightly ferocious, but his compassion was greater. "This humble monk vows to remain in this world for nine kalpas, so that hell may not be empty and the red lotus beneath my feet may never wither."

As he spoke, Jiu Jie separated his hands, which were originally clasped together. His right hand remained still, but his left hand made a reverse palm shape with the palm facing upward.

The palm was withered and dry, yet it seemed to be showing signs of rejuvenation.

"One kalpa, one sentient being; nine kalpas, nine Bodhisattvas. Do you recognize the three thousand kalpa clouds in this palm, benefactor?"

The monk Jiujie flipped his left hand, and it seemed to encompass the three thousand worlds and bear countless sins.

With just one glance, Meng Yuan felt as if his soul had been ripped away, as if all the sordid things and evil thoughts of the past had been stirred up.

In that instant, Meng Yuan felt as if he had fallen into the deepest hell, seeing only hungry ghosts and animals and endless tortures, and he could not stand on solid ground, but could only fall uncontrollably.

An endless abyss lay beneath his feet. In a daze, Meng Yuan seemed to have returned to the outskirts of Songhe Prefecture, where he encountered a small weasel with brown fur and a white belly.

Then, scenes from the past flashed through my mind. Finally, I arrived at Lanruo Temple, where the monk Meng Yuanjiujie was suppressed and died. After that, the world was silent. Only two women took a little weasel to Yunshan Temple and shaved their heads.

"I know that area well; I don't charge for shaving heads and becoming a monk!" the weasel said.

In another daze, Meng Yuan returned to the outside of Songhe Prefecture, all alone, and met a grandfather and grandson.

To save or not to save? Moved by a kind thought, Meng Yuan saved Old Man Jiang and his grandson, then entered the herdsman's manor, diligently studied martial arts, and no longer indulged in matters of passion and desire.

"This time, we cannot allow the Songhe Prefecture incident to happen again; we cannot let Master Nie down!"

Striving upwards, he entered the path of martial arts. However, no matter how hard he tried, his progress in martial arts was stagnant. Master Nie disliked him, and Meng Yuan did not win the favor of Miss Ying. However, Jiang Tang's feelings for him never changed, and Nie Qingqing did not despise Meng Yuan for his incompetence.

Qing Guangzi arrived as scheduled, and the whole city was in mourning. Meng Yuan felt powerless and could not save anyone. In the end, he was picked up by Jie Kaiping, who was watching the commotion outside the city. She shaved his head and the two sang a song of good fortune together and went to the ends of the earth.

In another moment of disorientation, it was the same again. Lacking sufficient martial arts skill, and speaking too softly, no one believed the upheaval in Songhe Prefecture was happening right before their eyes.

Having no other choice, Meng Yuan could only take Jiang Tang and Nie Qingqing with him and leave first, and then go alone to rescue the Third Miss.

Unfortunately, his cultivation level was insufficient, and Qing Guangzi shaved his head, making him a fellow disciple of Dugu Kang. His two virtuous wives, lost and confused, went to Ping'an Prefecture and then sought out Yunshan Temple.

Time and time again, the cycle repeats, leaving us confused and helpless.

In the end, Meng Yuan no longer went to save Old Man Jiang and his grandson. Instead, he headed west, intending to go to the Buddhist kingdom to seek the true scriptures and find a way to liberation. After many hardships, he finally arrived before Master Jiujie, who guided him to be ordained, and Meng Yuan received the Dharma name Feiyuan.

"Amitabha." A Buddhist chant rang in my ears.

Meng Yuan finally came to his senses and looked up. He saw that Master Jiujie had a sorrowful expression on his face, as if he was pitying all living beings.

"Foolish child." Master Jiujie seemed both much younger and much older, yet his compassionate expression remained undiminished. He said mercifully, "A humble room, an empty hall, withered grass and dry willows. Have you understood?"

Looking at the knife in his hand, Meng Yuan felt that it was a thing of countless sins, and that he should discard it as soon as possible, cut off the threads of troubles, and go with the Nine Tribulations Master in front of him, so that he could be considered to have achieved fulfillment.

Just as he was about to put down the knife, Meng Yuan felt a tremor in his heart, and a warm feeling rose throughout his body, which then dispelled all his distracting thoughts. The suffering he had experienced in the cycle of reincarnation was still vivid in his mind, but it could no longer control his thoughts.

It can only be empty.

"All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, dew, and lightning; thus should you contemplate them." Master Jiujie spoke slowly, raising his left hand, his face showing compassion and benevolence.

“Master, I understand.” Meng Yuan raised his knife again, pointed it at the Nine Tribulations Monk in the distance, and said, “You said that all living beings are like dew and lightning, then I will burn the ocean dry, capture all the lightning, and refine a string of dewdrop relics that can illuminate the true nature of three thousand Buddhas.”

The compassionate expression on the Nine Tribulations Monk's face vanished, and he lost his demeanor as a high-ranking monk. He merely frowned slightly as he carefully examined Meng Yuan.

In an instant, Monk Jiujie could see that Meng Feiyuan, having suffered the torments of reincarnation, had lost all his devotion to Buddhism and was now unruly, with a fiery aura rising from his body.

The fire didn't seem particularly powerful, and it appeared unlikely to harm anyone or itself, but it subtly hinted at the potential to scorch for thousands of miles and swallow mountains and rivers.

"Amitabha." Monk Jiujie put his hands together, turned around and bowed to the Arhat Wusheng on the lotus throne. "Master, you have seen ten thousand miles. It is Jiujie who is foolish and ignorant, yet you still have the heart to save people."

After speaking, Monk Jiujie turned around and looked at Meng Yuan. His eyes showed no compassion or pity, but rather a thunderous rage, as if an Arhat had descended to earth to sweep away the sins of the world.

"What Dharma does the Master practice?" Meng Yuan asked.

“The Mirror of Karma, the Image of Reincarnation.” Monk Jiujie spoke slowly, his eyes like lightning. “Benefactor Meng can sever his own suffering from the cycle of reincarnation, but I wonder if he can sever this humble monk’s great power of reincarnation.”

As he spoke, the wrinkles on the old yet delicate face of the Nine Tribulations Monk disappeared, replaced by a rosy complexion and bright eyes, as if he had become a completely different person.

The Nine Tribulations Monk turned his hand back again, and in an instant, countless strange phenomena appeared, as if countless fragments of the Nine Tribulations Monk's spirit had descended from the sky.

"The Dharma form you have revealed is of no use to me!" Flames erupted from the knife in Meng Yuan's hand, and his entire body was also engulfed in flames.

"Go!" As soon as the monk Jiujie moved, countless clones appeared before him, each wielding their own methods, intending to save the person.

The night was deep, the clouds were heavy, and the world was vast; Meng Yuan was like a firefly.

The monk Jiujie, his face contorted with madness, his robes fluttering wildly, and with countless clones, he pressed down on Meng Yuan.

But when he got close, Monk Jiujie realized that the fire was just as Meng Feiyuan had said; his reincarnation clone and reincarnation thoughts had no effect on it whatsoever.

With a flick of the flame, the clones were destroyed, and the thought of reincarnation vanished and burned away.

In the blink of an eye, Monk Jiujie felt his energy being frozen, and then a wisp of starlight reached him.

A figure rushed out from the sparks, followed by flashes of sword light, and he was completely unable to stop him.

In an instant, Monk Jiujie finally understood that although the other party was a newly promoted fifth-rank cultivator, the fire he was using was too restraining to him.

However, all his various methods and techniques could not suppress the flames at all.

"This is definitely not karmic fire, what kind of fire is it?" The monk Jiujie had already fallen to the ground, his body covered in blood, with tiny flames emanating from countless wounds.

The flames were indestructible and impossible to sever. Monk Jiujie felt as if his entire cultivation was being burned by the flames, and his own life force was being slowly devoured by them.

The monk Jiujie knew very well that before long, his own cultivation would be emptied first, and then his vitality, memories, his heart toward Buddha, his heart to save others, and even the flame of life would all be turned into the fine dust covering the Bodhi tree.

"No!" the Nine Tribulations Monk shouted, stretching out his hands as if to grab Meng Yuan. He pleaded, "I cannot die! I must overcome the nine tribulations and suppress the demons of the world! I am the future Buddha, and one day I will surely attain the highest level of enlightenment and achieve the fruition of the future Buddha!"

"You said that even if you were to suffer nine tribulations and your body were to shatter, you would still be able to suppress the demonic obstacles. It seems that you haven't encountered a demon like me." Meng Yuan's knife, shrouded in flames, slowly pierced the chest of the Nine Tribulations Monk. "Master, your nine tribulations are nothing but a waning moon in the water, a Bodhi tree in a mirror. Since you seek the fruition of the future Buddha, then I will sever your future."

As the fire knife pierced through, the monk Jiujie could only wail in agony, all his previous compassion and mercy gone, replaced by endless pain and resentment.

He gripped the hilt of the knife with both hands, staring intently at Meng Yuan, as if pleading, yet unable to suppress the resentment in his heart, unable to utter a single word.

"Amitabha." The Arhat on the lotus throne finally opened his eyes.

Those eyes seemed to encompass the universe, the past, the present, and the future, containing all people, all things, all good, and all evil in the world.

As the Arhat Wusheng spoke, Meng Yuan seemed to be dragged into the Sumeru Mustard Seed, and then thrown off, but he could no longer move an inch.

If the knife in hand cannot be used as desired, the thoughts in one's mind can no longer be mobilized to exert physical strength.

Meng Yuan looked at the lotus throne and saw dark clouds hanging low. In the eyes of the Arhat Wusheng, there seemed to be thousands of images, some with a murderous aura, some with the intention to save people, some with a sorrow for the misfortune of all living beings, and some with a severing of all thoughts, living only the ordinary life.

"Amitabha." The Arhat Wusheng was sitting on a lotus throne not far in front of Meng Yuan, but his majestic voice seemed to come from all directions, as if it were falling from the heavens or rising from the depths of hell.

Meng Yuan gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, feeling that this man was the worst enemy he had ever faced in his life!

Back in Songhe Prefecture, Meng Yuan had only seen Qing Guangzi's radiant form from afar, but now, the Arhat Wusheng was right before his eyes.

Meng Yuan realized that if the Arhat Wusheng turned his palm over, he would have no chance of escaping.

“I have seen your fire clearly, benefactor. It is indeed extraordinary.” Wusheng Luo’s voice was ethereal yet majestic. He stretched out his hand in a gesture of holding up a flower, then raised it as if to press down. “It is in accordance with the true fire of my Buddhist school.”

For a moment, even though they were dozens of steps apart, Meng Yuan felt as if he were neither alive nor dead, as if he were about to escape the cycle of reincarnation, yet it also seemed to conceal an unparalleled terror, from which he could not escape at all.

Just then, a dragon's roar seemed to be heard in the distance.

Then a beam of azure light shot into the sky. The light was not very strong, but it pierced through the thick dark clouds in the night sky.

In the blink of an eye, the dark clouds dissipated, completely banished. The hidden Buddha light within was no longer restrained, seemingly returning to the body of the Arhat without birth.

But as the blue light darted through, the Buddha's light was completely scattered and destroyed, as if it were a dead object.

A fierce wind blew across Wulou Mountain, and not a single dark cloud or Buddha's light could be seen. Only the bright moon hung in the sky, and the Milky Way shone brilliantly.

"Li Weizhen, an unworthy disciple of Chongxu Temple, has come to pay respects to the Arhat Wusheng!" A soft whistle came from the heavens, as if the speaker had come from the boundless Milky Way.

(End of this chapter)