The Mystery of the Inner Demon

Chapter 163 Memorial Tablet
"For so many years, Da Baoen Temple has regarded the old lady and her husband as the temple's benefactors. It is much more effective for the old lady to make an appointment with the abbot than those influential people outside." Zhong Kui twirled her silky long hair with her fingers and spoke as she walked.

After hearing this, Qi Fei was still confused. It was obvious that Zhong Kui had asked Granny Meng to meet with the abbot of Da Baoen Temple in advance. "But how did you know I found out that Ye Ming had been to Da Baoen Temple?"

Zhong Kui pursed her lips and smiled. "Who knew you'd find this today? I was just doing my homework. Zhong Xiaoyu must have managed my attention. Of all the information in this case, the part that interests me most is definitely the part related to metaphysics, the scripture on the palm of the deceased in Dongji Town..." She had taken out the small copper knife she always carried with her and played with it in her hand. "Those crooked Sanskrit characters are obviously not engraved. A sharp weapon can't carve such smooth lines on human skin..."

"The forensic doctor at the time determined that it was branded, but no matching murder weapon was found." Qi Fei said immediately.

"Well, I can tell it was branded without even looking at your files. That raises a question: what did the murderer use to brand it? Casting it from a mold is too bizarre. I wonder if your predecessors considered this idea. Another possibility is that it was something readily available in the temple. Coincidentally, Grandma knows that the wind chimes of the glazed pagoda contain verses from the Vimalakirti Sutra. It's said that in the 1950s and 1960s, most of the wind chimes were removed for steelmaking, leaving only the top eaves, which were too high to be removed, and thus survived."

As they were talking, they had already arrived at the foot of the glazed pagoda. An old monk was standing in front of the pagoda. He had high brow bones and frosted eyebrows. He was wearing a faded dark blue cassock. The fine stitches could be vaguely seen on the frayed corners of his clothes. It was a stark contrast to the prosperous Da Baoen Temple.

It seems that this person is the abbot of Da Baoen Temple mentioned by Zhong Kui, Master Shenghui.

Master Shenghui bowed with one hand. After Qi Fei explained his purpose, he clasped his hands together and said, "Amitabha, the symbol of compassion that saves all living beings, has now been branded as a curse for murder. They believe that self-torture is liberation, which is truly perverse." He lowered his eyes in regret, then said, "Three donors, please follow me."

As he spoke, he turned and walked into the Glazed Tower.

Three people followed him in.

In order to protect cultural relics, the Glazed Tower is usually not open to the public.

Qi Fei, a native of Nancheng, had never actually climbed this ancient tower.

The wooden staircase creaked softly under his feet as Qi Fei climbed, holding onto the faded vermilion railing. Spring light shone through the peacock-blue glazed tiles into the tower, slicing the winding staircase into interlaced fragments of light and dark.

"Be careful of the hanging fish at the corner." Master Shenghui raised his hand to signal.

The higher they went, the stronger the aged sandalwood in the air became, which made Qi Fei unconsciously recall the lingering smell on Ye Ming's brown paper notebook.

The four people finally approached the top of the tower. The wind blew unhindered, and the wind chimes on the eaves rang in response to the wind.

Qi Fei finally saw the scriptures on the wind bell. Although he could not understand the Sanskrit, the size and shape of the characters were exactly the same as those on the palms of the five dead people in Dongji Town.

"The size of this wind chime is just right for a person to hold in the palm of his hand." Zhong Kui's words seemed ordinary, but they were actually chilling.

Qi Fei seemed to see the five poor women, who, under the coercion of the murderer, stretched out their hands towards the red-hot wind bell - he guessed how these scriptures appeared on the hands of the dead, just like when Ye Ming stood here, looking at the bell swaying in the wind, and thinking of that cruel scene.

Shenghui's calm voice echoed beside them: "The Vimalakirti Sutra says, 'First eliminate the ego, then cut off the root of killing.' The sutra is clearly engraved on copper and iron, yet it has not been tainted by the violence of war. This shows that Buddhism saves the fire of karma, not life." The remaining wind chime on the eaves hummed softly in response. Qi Fei turned to Master Shenghui and said, "Abbot, we need to remove one of them and take it to the deceased for further comparison.

It seems that not all of the wind chimes that were forcibly removed were melted down. Unfortunately, due to the passage of time, it is impossible to know who secretly left the wind chimes behind.

At this point, Qi Fei changed the subject, "I'm not here today just for the scriptures on the wind bell. I wanted to ask, have you ever heard of someone named Xu Chunxia?" Upon hearing the name, Master Shenghui's eyebrows twitched slightly, and he said, "It seems that you've already entered Nirvana."

Qi Fei had been looking for Xu Chunxia for so long, and for the first time someone responded. Although he did not understand Buddhism, he could guess that what this meant was that Shenghui knew that this person was dead. He could not help but get excited and almost bumped into the hanging fish-shaped wooden sculpture and almost fell.

Zhong Kui grabbed his arm and said, "Don't be so excited. Otherwise, before the case is fully investigated, you will follow Xu Chunxia into Nirvana."

When Shenghui met Zhong Kui for the first time, he was not familiar with her speaking style and quickly said "Amitabha": "This donor must be joking."

Qi Fei was used to it, and hurriedly asked Sheng Hui: "It seems that you know Xu Chunxia. Who is she? How did she die?"

Sheng Hui nodded slightly and said, "Let's get off the pagoda first. I'll take you to a place."

He turned around and led the three of them slowly down the wooden stairs. The light filtered through the peacock blue glass gradually dimmed, dragging their figures into long slanted ink marks.

Passing through the west side of the Main Hall, where the smoke of incense is lingering, a moss-covered moon-shaped gate is quietly hidden in the cypress forest.

The copper-nailed wooden door of the Ksitigarbha Hall creaked open, and the strong aroma of incense and candles filled the air.

The ten-square-meter inner room is illuminated only by a perpetual lamp, and the lacquered golden body of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva has already cracked.

The inside of the Ksitigarbha Hall was as dark as ink, with only the red flames of hundreds of gilded candlesticks dancing.

The entire west wall is densely packed with ebony tablets. The sandalwood frame, more than three meters high, is pressed into a slight arc. The new and old tablets are stacked layer by layer, as if this is no longer the human world.

The aged sandalwood, wrapped in the scent of wax, condensed into a light blue mist between the beams and pillars.

Qi Fei's eyes were eagerly searching for the name on the entire wall of tablets.

Following Master Shenghui's pointing, he looked towards the northeast corner of the top floor. The tablet there was obviously old, and the dusty paint had faded to a dark blue color.

He held his breath and looked at the group of tablets covered by spider webs. In the flickering gilded candlelight, the name "Xu Chunxia" finally appeared in his sight.

The gilded characters looked down from above through the dusty dark blue lacquer surface, as if telling of the grievances that had remained unspoken for more than forty years.

"With so many tablets, do you remember every one of them?" Zhong Kui suddenly asked Shenghui.

(End of this chapter)