They've all become top scholars in the imperial examinations, and you're telling me this i

Chapter 35 Where Does the Dust Settle?

Sure enough, Zhang Bangyan was energized the next day.

He limped, his knee swollen high, but he seemed to have forgotten the pain, and would pull out that still-wet ink manuscript of poetry to everyone he met.

In scholar's halls, teahouses, restaurants, and even on the street when he bumped into a classmate... wherever he could speak, his exaggerated voice echoed:
"Look! Scholar Chen's new work! It's a natural expression of Buddha-nature!"

"Incredible! Incredible! With this poem, all the Zen spirit in Chang'an has to take a backseat!"

"'Originally there is nothing, so where can dust settle?' Listen to that! How insightful! You all burn incense and worship Buddha every day, but do you have this kind of wisdom?"

He boasted about it to everyone he met, acting as if he wanted to shave Chen Guangrui's head and make him a monk on the spot.

Chen Guangrui, in particular, was several times faster at composing poetry than Cao Zhi.

"Such speed, what else could it be but the result of Buddha-nature? This is what it means to be connected with Buddha! Look at his previous poem, isn't it exactly the same as this one? Both have that untainted, worldly quality."

Zhang Changling put in a tremendous amount of effort to promote this poem.

Once this is done, Chen Guangrui won't be able to back out even if he wanted to!
The poem was already excellent, and with the new runner-up's vigorous promotion, it would be difficult for it not to become famous.

The postmaster held the paper with the poem written on it, carefully examining his top-ranking scholar.
"The top scholar...and that second-place scholar...is he possessed? He keeps telling everyone he's going to become a Buddha..."

Chen Guangrui sipped his tea, his eyes calm and unwavering: "Let him be. It's rare for Zhang Bangyan to praise me like this, how can I spoil his enjoyment?"

The harder Zhang Changling worked, the faster his reputation for being "uninterested in worldly affairs" would be solidified. After all, these things weren't said by him, but by Zhang Changling.

To outsiders, Zhang Changling was still his mortal enemy. Now that Zhang Changling is saying this, it must be quite credible, right?

This poem, like a spark thrown into boiling oil, instantly exploded throughout Chang'an!
The literary circles were the first to be in an uproar.

"Bodhi has no tree?!"

An old scholar from the Hongwen Academy plucked a few strands of his beard, his eyes wide with amazement. "Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! It transcends form and directly points to the essence of the mind! Only those with great enlightenment and a profound understanding can express this!"

"Does Scholar Chen possess such a Buddhist nature?"

Several talented young men, preparing to attend the embroidered ball game at the Yin residence, huddled together, passing around a transcribed manuscript of poems, their faces filled with surprise and uncertainty.

"This 'Where does the dust settle?'...sounds like a complete severing of all emotions and desires?"

"It's not just that it has Buddha-nature; it's practically destined to become a Buddha and an ancestor!"

The teahouse was buzzing with discussion, some with a sour taste, but most with admiration. "It seems that worldly matters like Wei Zheng's might not have caught his eye... His heart was set on the Bodhi tree!"

The word "quiet retreat" began to be subtly associated with Chen Guangrui through word of mouth.

Soon, the Buddhist community followed suit. Temples throughout Chang'an also received word of the situation.

The monk in charge of receiving guests at the Great Ci'en Temple hurriedly handed the copied poem to the abbot. The abbot stared at the twenty characters, remained silent for a long time, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Junior Brother Huitong...look...this..."

The elder's voice was somewhat hoarse. They had been spreading the Dharma in Chang'an for many years, but after the Li family of the Tang Dynasty established the country, they claimed to be descendants of Laozi Li Er. Even if Buddhism continued to spread the Dharma, how could it compete with Taoism?
Especially now, their Buddhist temples have no reputation, and a newly appointed top scholar has actually written such Zen-inspired poems, which makes these monks feel a little embarrassed.

It's somewhat shameful that the transmission of Buddhist teachings has turned out this way.

"This poem... truly touches upon the core of Zen principles... it shows considerable... considerable wisdom... This benefactor Chen has a karmic connection with our Buddhist community." "If this person were to come to our Buddhist community, our Buddhist community would surely flourish."

However, before the monk could finish speaking, he was struck as if by lightning, and the bell of Daxingshan Temple rang out with a loud "dong".

The old monk shuddered, clasped his hands together as if in fear, and stopped talking about such things.

At this moment, the area outside the post station was already crowded with people.

Chen An peeked through the crack in the doorway on tiptoe, then ran back in surprise and panic.
"Brother! There are so many people outside! There are commoners watching the excitement, scholars, and... even monks from several temples are standing at a distance, peeking out! They're all talking about your poem! It's absolutely insane!"

Chen Guangrui put down his teacup, and the slight clinking sound was particularly clear in the suddenly quiet room.

He stood up and straightened his clean scholar's robe, which he usually wore.

The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone I used to write yesterday are still lying on the table.

The noise outside seemed to be shut out, and he could clearly hear his own heartbeat, steady and strong.

This is the moment.

Yesterday, I was about to become a monk at a Buddhist temple, but some evil spirits tried to stop me. Now, because of this poem, my becoming a monk has become the will of the people. Let's see who dares to stop me now.
He walked to the door, took a deep breath, and reached out to pull open the heavy wooden door of the inn.

Sunlight streamed in with a "whoosh," casting his shadow long across the ground. The noisy crowd fell silent instantly, hundreds upon hundreds of eyes focusing on him.

Chen Guangrui stood a step behind the threshold, his gaze calmly sweeping over the various faces crowded in front of the door—curious, admiring, inquisitive, and also the tense, prying eyes from the distant monks' robes fluttering in the wind.

He didn't explain the poem, didn't exchange pleasantries, and didn't lay any groundwork.

He addressed the crowd, especially the direction in which the monks' eyes were focused, clearly and calmly:

"I wish to convert to Buddhism and become a lay Buddhist disciple. I wonder... if any temple would be willing to accept me?"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a boulder thrown into the water, instantly creating a huge upheaval!
"Boom!" After a brief silence, the crowd erupted into a commotion ten times louder than before!

"He really wants to become a monk?!" a scholar exclaimed in shock.

"A devout disciple?! The kind who practices at home?!" Many others were stunned and whispered among themselves.

“Yes! I have heard that our Great Tang does not allow officials to become monks, but if it is just a devout disciple, it is fine.”

At the entrance of the inn, it was as if a thunderbolt had been dropped! In the distance, the monks who were watching were excited. In all their years of being monks, no one had ever paid so much attention to them, the Buddhist disciples. Now that Scholar Chen had made such a commotion, it was the other way around that people were drawing attention to Buddhism.

Chen Guangrui stood there, like a nail firmly driven into the ground, letting the clamor surge and crash against him like a tidal wave. He didn't need to say anything more; this one sentence was enough.

He looked in the direction of Daxingshan Temple, his eyes filled with provocation.

Don't think I don't know that this so-called death calamity is a trick played by your Buddhist sect.

Now, I want to become a monk. Once I become a monk, I will be a lay disciple. Although I can still marry and have children, if I don't want to, it will be difficult to force me to.

What do you Buddhists think you should do?
With that thought in mind, he took his first step toward Daxingshan Temple.

(End of this chapter)