Forbidden Zone of Deception

Chapter 223 Demonic Obstacle
Huikong was supported by Huiming and Huizhi on either side as he staggered along the corridor.

A wave of nausea surged up his throat again, and he suddenly broke free, lunged at the flowerbed by the corridor, and vomited violently.

This time I vomited even more violently than I did in the dining hall.

He emptied his stomach almost completely, first the undigested, bloody "tofu," then the sour gastric juices, and finally just dry heaving.

He knelt on the ground, his face covered in tears and snot, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

"Ugh...you...you lunatics..." Huikong raised his bloodshot eyes and glared at Huiming and Huizhi standing to the side. "You actually said it was tofu? I saw it! Fingers! Nails! And blood! Are you all blind?!"

Anger erupted like lava; Huikong had had enough, and he didn't want to live his life in such a muddle anymore!

What kind of sacred Buddhist sanctuary is this? It's a den of demons!
He suddenly stood up, clenched his fist, and without warning, punched Huiming in the face!

With a muffled thud, Huiming neither dodged nor evaded, taking the punch head-on!
His mouth cracked instantly, and a trickle of blood seeped out.

He merely tilted his head slightly, looking at Huikong with a complex expression, neither angry nor retaliating.

"Attack! Why aren't you fighting back?!" Huikong roared, his voice hoarse from agitation and vomiting. "Aren't you cannibals? Come on! Are you even monks? Buddha and Bodhisattvas are watching! Aren't you afraid of going to Avici Hell?! Have you all gone mad?!"

His hysterical voice echoed through the corridor. There seemed to be footsteps in the distance, but they quickly disappeared, as if no one wanted to approach this area.

Huiming spat out the blood foam from his mouth, his voice unusually calm, even tinged with weariness: "Junior Brother Huikong, your condition is due to being corrupted by demonic influences, which is why you see pure tofu as something dirty."

"A demonic illusion? Pollution?" Huikong was furious. He pointed towards the dining hall, his finger trembling. "I saw it clearly! Those were human fingers! And they were bleeding! You all saw it! You were all eating them! Was that a demonic illusion? Or is there something wrong with my eyes?! I'm calling the police! I absolutely have to call the police! Let the police come and see this cannibalistic den of demons!"

He screamed hysterically, as if that could dispel the fear that had seeped into his very bones.

Huizhi, who had been silent all along, finally spoke. His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a chilling despair: "It's no use, Junior Brother Huikong. Even if you call the police, it won't help."

"Useless? How could it be useless! Do you think the police would come and say it's tofu?!"

Huikong roared, but a chill involuntarily rose in his heart. He remembered the strange behavior of his fellow disciples who had collectively gone blind, as well as the unusual calmness of Huiming and Huizhi at this moment.

A deeper fear began to spread in his heart.

Huiming then said, "Yes. Just as you said. Junior brother, once you've shaved your head and entered the temple, there's no turning back."

After a while, the intense emotions began to recede like the tide, leaving only endless exhaustion and fear.

Thinking about it carefully... do they seem like they'd be afraid of calling the police?
Now, there are two possibilities: either the temple itself is a criminal organization disguised as monks, or it really is a place full of evil spirits!

He immediately felt a pang of fear for his impulsive actions.

He offended two of his senior brothers; wasn't he courting death?

Huikong's legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud. His hands braced against the cold stone slabs, his face streaked with tears and despair. His voice became a desperate plea: "Senior brother... Senior brother Huiming, Senior brother Huizhi... Tell me, is there any way... is there any way to leave this temple? I beg you, let me go... I don't want anything anymore, I just want to leave this place..."

Huiming looked at him, a hint of pity flashing in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by helplessness.

He slowly shook his head and said, "It's no use, Junior Brother Huikong. Even if you leave Lanruo Temple, you can't escape. 'It' will not let go of anyone who has been tainted by its aura. Leaving the temple's protection will only lead to a faster and more miserable death."

"Then...then what should we do?" Huikong's voice was choked with sobs. "The 'it' you're referring to, is it Nie Xiaoqian? Who exactly is Nie Xiaoqian? She's mentioned in the first rule! Is she the root of all this? Will finding her solve the problem?"

Upon hearing the name "Nie Xiaoqian," Huizhi took a deep breath, clasped his hands together, and said with unusual solemnity, "Amitabha. Junior brother, a monk does not lie. This Lanruo Temple, from ancient times to the present, has absolutely never had a person named Nie Xiaoqian. Whether it is a pilgrim, a layperson, or a nun, there has never been one."

"You're talking nonsense!" Huikong didn't believe it at all. Did these two people think he had a problem with his intelligence?

"If, as you say, there is no such person as Nie Xiaoqian, then why is it written at the very beginning of the rules?! What are you hiding?!"

Huiming restrained the agitated Huikong and said, “Junior brother, it’s difficult for me to explain this to you clearly. You can think of it as… a kind of ‘demonic obstacle’. A ‘demonic obstacle’ that lingers here, formless and intangible, yet can invade people’s hearts and distort their perceptions. Its name may not be important, but its impact is real. That rule is meant to remind us to be wary of this kind of cognitive distortion.”

Huizhi added from the side, "Well, Junior Brother Huiming, Junior Brother Huikong has just been ordained as a Buddhist, so he probably has a hard time understanding what you're saying. Junior Brother Huikong, perhaps you could interpret it as... a demon in your heart."

"Demons? Inner demons?"

Huikong muttered to himself, feeling as if his head was about to explode.

All this eeriness and horror was attributed to something so illusory and ethereal? Yet the finger he saw with his own eyes, the bleeding "tofu," was so real, so shocking!
“Junior brother,” Huiming’s tone softened slightly, “as long as you diligently cultivate, uphold the precepts and recite scriptures, keep your mind clear, and most importantly, strictly abide by the temple rules, you can gradually resist this pollution and break through the demonic obstacles. This is the only way at present.”

Huikong's eyes were unfocused at this moment, and he said as if grasping at a straw, "Cultivation? Chanting scriptures? Can those things just disappear? Can they make me unable to see those...those..."

Huiming gave Huizhi a wink. Huizhi hesitated for a moment, then clasped his hands together in a gesture of respect, turned and left silently, leaving Huiming and Huikong slumped on the ground.

After confirming that Huizhi had gone far away, Huiming squatted down and approached Huikong, his expression more solemn than ever before and... with a hint of barely perceptible fear.

“Junior Brother Huikong,” he whispered almost in his ear, “there are some things I shouldn’t have told you, but seeing how you are… I’ll make an exception this time. Listen carefully, and you can only hear this once. After you hear it, keep it to yourself and never mention it to anyone else.”

Huikong was taken aback by his extremely serious attitude and nodded involuntarily.

Huiming looked around warily, and only after confirming that no one was around did he continue in his barely audible voice: "You can understand it this way. Our Lanruo Temple has been polluted by something... something incomprehensible and indescribable since a very, very long time ago. It's not a ghost, not a demon, it's more like a... rule, a concept, that has always permeated every inch of land and every breath of air."

“It’s all-pervasive; it distorts reality and erodes the mind. What we see, hear, and even eat… may no longer be the same as before. The food in the dining hall might be… that kind of thing in your eyes, but in our eyes, it might… perhaps just barely maintain a ‘normal’ appearance, but who knows if that’s another kind of distortion?” A deep weariness and confusion flashed in Huiming’s eyes.

“And those temple rules,” he continued, “were bought with the blood and lives of countless generations of masters, rules to fight against this pollution, to barely survive in this distortion… Only by abiding by them can we be temporarily safe, can we maintain a sliver of clarity, and can this temple still appear to be a temple on the surface. As for why the first rule is written that way, I don’t really know. Perhaps the name ‘Nie Xiaoqian’ is some particularly strong ‘trigger point,’ or perhaps a ‘symbol’ that represents utter madness? The specific reasons have long been lost to history; we only need to remember and abide by them.”

These words were still difficult for Huikong to understand.

His current situation reminded him of the Wesley series of novels by Ni Kuang. This science fiction series is quite popular in Hong Kong these days, and Huikong had bought several copies to read before he became a monk.

He couldn't help but exclaim, "Could this be aliens? Are there aliens in this temple?"

Huiming paused for a moment, then said, "Amitabha, I think... it shouldn't be aliens."

"Then...then are we really not able to leave this temple?"

"Leave?" Huiming shook his head bitterly. "Like people on a sunken ship, they might be able to float for a while if they grab onto a piece of rotten wood, but once they let go, they will be swallowed by the endless deep sea. We have already been branded, and there is nowhere to escape."

He grabbed Huikong's shoulders, his fingers digging so hard they almost dug into his flesh: "So, junior brother, there is no other choice. Forget what you see, suppress what you feel, firmly remember and abide by every rule, constantly chant scriptures and cultivate yourself, stabilize your mind. This is the only way to survive. Otherwise... you will become like... like Senior Brother Huizhen... or become something you can't even imagine...

After saying these words, Huiming seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and his face was as pale as paper.

He released his grip, slowly stood up, and returned to his calm yet deathly still demeanor, as if those earth-shattering words had never come from his mouth.

His last words were: "Take care of yourself, junior brother."

Then, he turned and slowly walked away, leaving Huikong alone, slumped on the cold ground. Pollution…rules…distortion…survival…

These words collided wildly in his mind, constructing a terrifying truth that was even more despairing than demons and monsters.

He didn't enter a temple haunted by ghosts; rather, he was trapped in a cage of rules that was already "morbid" and "mad."

In his dazed state, a thought struggled to surface. He raised his head and looked at Huiming's slightly hunched back, who had not yet completely left. His voice was dry as he asked, "Senior brother... when you shaved your head and came here, did you... did you also experience something like what I went through? Did you... also see those... things?"

Huiming stopped in his tracks.

He remained silent for a moment, then slowly turned around, revealing the deep weariness and pain hidden beneath the calm facade on his face.

He walked back a few steps, leaned against a pillar, and gazed into the distance.

"Me..." His voice was low and somewhat dazed, "I came here because my wife passed away."

“Back then…” Huiming’s voice was very soft, “we had just bought a new house and were planning to have a child…”

His voice choked, and he paused for a long time before continuing, "That day she crossed the street to buy me my favorite snacks... a car, very fast... when I arrived..."

Having also suffered from unrequited love, Huikong completely understood Huiming's state of mind.

Huiming closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his eyes were filled with a deathly gray: "I can't go on living. Really, every day is torture. Later, I don't know how I got to the other side. I was in a daze, like a walking corpse. When I became a little more lucid, I was already kneeling outside the gate of Lanruo Temple."

"As for the temple rules..." Huiming forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "When I first saw them, I also found them strange, absurd, and even laughable. But at that time, I was completely despondent and only thought about converting to Buddhism in the future. I didn't think too much about it. My master said that shaving one's head could sever worldly ties and bring liberation, so I shaved my head. As for those rules... I'll just have to abide by them."

As Huikong listened, a complex mix of emotions welled up within him.

He pressed on, "Then... what Brother Huizhi just said was a demon in my heart, does that mean that everything I saw, everything in the dining hall... was an illusion? Was it all fake? Was it just my imagination because I was too scared?"

Huiming paused for a moment, then shook his head, then nodded, and finally sighed: "Well... we can't think of it that way entirely. Senior Brother Huizhi said that perhaps to make it easier for you to accept."

Huikong actually realized that the word "demonic obstacle" was just a label that was used to make it easier for him to understand, and the truth was far more bizarre and terrifying than words like "inner demon" and "illusion." It was likely some kind of unspeakable and incomprehensible existence or rule.

After a while, Huiming seemed unwilling to say more, and simply waved his hand wearily: "You should calm down and think for a while. Remember my words, follow the rules, and calm your mind."

After saying that, he turned and slowly walked away, his figure disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Huikong sat there for a long time before struggling to get up and walk back.

Pushing open the door to the monks' quarters, a familiar smell of instant noodles wafted out.

Ning Caichen was sitting at a small table, reviewing his lessons with his English textbook.

Seeing Huikong enter, Ning Caichen looked up and adjusted his glasses: "Master Huikong, you're back? You don't look too well."

Huikong looked at the half-eaten bowl of instant noodles in front of Ning Caichen, and her stomach churned again.

He suppressed his discomfort and asked in a trembling voice, "Ning... Benefactor Ning, you... didn't go to the dining hall for lunch?"

"Oh, I didn't go," Ning Caichen replied casually. "I was studying a crucial part and was too lazy to move around, so I just had a bowl of instant noodles. What's wrong? Was the food in the dining hall bad today?"

Huikong breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, he hadn't gone west. He could hardly imagine what Ning Caichen's reaction would be if he had seen it too.

He walked to his bedside and sat down, his gaze sweeping over Ning Caichen's open book, but his mind was in turmoil, Huiming's words and the scene in the dining hall flashing back and forth. He needed to confide in someone, to find a "normal" person to verify or, rather, to vent the turmoil in his heart.

“Benefactor Ning,” he began hesitantly, “what…what do you think of the so-called ‘demonic obstacles’?”

Ning Caichen looked up from his book, a puzzled expression on his face: "Demon obstacles? What do you mean? Is it like the kind of inner demons in Buddhism? Something that hinders cultivation?"

“Hmm…more or less,” Huikong replied vaguely. He couldn’t explain Huiming’s twisted explanation. “It means…something that looks very real, but might be misleading, causing fear and illusion.”

Ning Caichen put down his pen, seemingly quite interested: "From a Buddhist perspective, you call it a demonic obstacle, a sign of insufficient practice and a weak will, which needs to be overcome with Buddhist teachings. From a philosophical perspective, perhaps there is another explanation."

"philosophy?"

"For example, philosophical idealism and materialism are not as simple as atheism and theism as most people think. It goes further..."

"Does consciousness determine matter, or does matter determine consciousness?"

"Or, to put it more deeply... are all the material phenomena observed by humankind the entirety of the world?"

Ning Caichen's scholarly discussion strangely eased Huikong's tense nerves a little.

He even discussed with Ning Caichen the vague connection between the saying "appearance reflects the heart" and cognitive theories in psychology.

However, the deeper the conversation went, the stronger the chill in Huikong's heart became.

Current theories cannot explain why all the senior disciples collectively experienced "cognitive bias," nor can they explain the incredibly real and tangible tactile sensation and fishy smell, let alone Huiming's horrifying whispers about "pollution" and "rules."

After a moment of silence, a crazy idea suddenly rose in Huikong's mind.
He suddenly grabbed Ning Caichen's arm and said, "Benefactor Ning! Anyway... anyway, you're not planning to leave for the time being, right? You... you might as well do me a favor, okay? Let's... let's explore this temple together! I want to find a way out, I want to find a chance to escape! I can't do it alone, I'm going crazy!"

Ning Caichen was taken aback by his sudden excitement and grasp. He blinked behind his glasses, seemingly surprised, but did not immediately refuse. Instead, he showed a look of curiosity and inquiry: "Explore the temple? Escape? Master Huikong, have you... discovered something amiss?"

Huikong nodded vigorously, as if grasping at a straw: "Do you still remember... those ten temple rules?"

"Of course, I've memorized them all."

Huikong took a deep breath, pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with ten rules written on it from under his pillow, and spread it on the small table between the two of them.

“Let’s examine them carefully, one by one.” Huikong’s fingers trembled slightly as he pointed to the rules. “There must be clues to the secrets behind the temple hidden within, or at least a way to protect ourselves!”

His gaze swept over the rules, then suddenly stopped on the fifth one—"All monks in the temple wear gray robes. If you encounter a monk wearing a white robe, you may ask him for directions, but do not follow him. If you encounter a monk wearing a black robe, do not make eye contact with him. If he bows to you first, kneel down immediately and declare that you are dead."

He suddenly remembered the eerie black-robed monk he had seen with Ning Caichen that night, so he looked up, stared intently at Ning Caichen, and whispered, "Benefactor Ning, the rules mention gray robes, white robes, and black robes. That night, we saw something in a black robe... After that, did you see any monks in white robes in this temple?"

Upon hearing this, Ning Caichen frowned, thought carefully, and then slowly and clearly shook his head: "White robes? That's... I've never seen one before."

“I see. Then let’s discuss the black-robed monk first. That day…” Huikong walked to the window, opened it, and said, “We saw the black-robed monk right where you were staying…”

Outside the window, a black-robed monk stood quietly, his cloudy eyes fixed on Huikong and Ning Caichen!

(End of this chapter)