Journey to the West: Starting with the True Lord of the Pure Land

The black water gradually subsided.

Only a faint smell of blood and burnt remains.

Zen Master Baoxiang and Vajra Subduer of Demons were defeated.

The four mages who had formed the formation were already severely injured in the aftermath of the previous battle, and lay slumped on the ground, their faces ashen.

Chen Jiao was too lazy to say anything more to such a lowly soldier.

With a casual swing of the Azure Thunder Halberd, a condensed azure arc of lightning shot out and split into four in the air.

The light in their eyes vanished instantly, and before they could even utter a sound, they had already perished.

With a flick of his sleeve, Chen Jiao pocketed all the spoils of war, including the Buddhist treasure belonging to Zen Master Baoxiang.

Ruyi Zhenren had already resolved the remaining trivial matters and approached, his face still bearing a trace of lingering fear.

He steadied himself, cupped his hands, and asked:

"Brother Xuanling, I am so grateful for your great abilities, otherwise I would have been in grave danger today."

Now that we have obtained the spiritual fire and vanquished our powerful enemy, wouldn't it be better for us to depart first, find a secluded place to cultivate and thoroughly refine this [Stone-in-the-Fire], to avoid any unforeseen complications?

Upon hearing this, Chen Jiao's eyes remained calm, yet their depth was chilling.

"Refining the spiritual fire can't be rushed. If Baoguang Temple isn't eliminated, it will become a future problem."

He paused, looked at Ruyi Zhenren, his tone calm and even, yet a chilling killing intent emanated from him:

"To cut the weeds, you must remove the roots."

Ruyi Zhenren felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

Master Baoxiang was the head of the temple. Today he has died here. How can Baoguang Temple let this go?

If they wait until they realize what's happening, gather their forces to retaliate, or report the matter to higher-ranking Buddhist leaders, the consequences could be dire.

Brother Xuanling is taking advantage of the fact that the enemy is unaware and their foundation is weak to strike at the heart of the enemy and eliminate future troubles!

Although Ruyi Zhenren was not skilled in killing, he knew the principle of the strong preying on the weak.

No more words are needed now, just a firm nod:

"What you say is absolutely right, fellow Daoist! I am willing to go with you!"

Chen Jiao nodded slightly and said, "It's just scabies; you can just brush it off."

Having said that, he said no more, took a step, and transformed into a streak of dark light.

Ruyi Zhenren took a deep breath, suppressed his distracting thoughts, and also rode his escape light to follow closely behind.

…………

Baoxiang Kingdom.

Baoguang Temple is located at the foot of a beautiful mountain in the western suburbs of the royal city. With its golden roof and red walls, it is filled with the sounds of morning bells and evening drums, and the fragrance of incense lingers all day long.

The stone steps in front of the mountain gate lead directly to the Mahavira Hall, where the golden Buddha statues are majestic with lowered eyebrows and downcast eyes.

Not long after, it was exactly 5:00 AM.

The melodious and resonant sound of the bell rang out from the mountaintop, piercing through the morning mist and echoing through the forest, startling a few roosting birds.

The bell tolls 108 times, symbolizing the breaking of 108 worldly troubles.

As the bell tolled, activity gradually began to stir within the temple.

The heavy vermilion temple door was slowly pushed open by two gray-robed novices, making a dull creaking sound.

The guest monk, Yuanhui, yawned, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and finally opened his eyelids completely.

Several early-rising pilgrims were already waiting at the foot of the stone steps outside the gate. Most of them were ordinary people in plain clothes, carrying bamboo baskets filled with fruits, incense and candles, and their expressions were respectful.

Yuan Hui glanced at them, then lazily stepped aside to make a gap, allowing them to file in.

He then walked with his hands in his pockets to the stone lion by the door, squinting as he surveyed the distant street scene.

Inside the main hall, the candlelight illuminated the compassionate and solemn golden statues of the Three Buddhas.

About sixty or seventy monks, dressed in Haiqing robes, stood in order behind the prayer cushions and began their morning chanting.

The hall was filled with the fragrance of incense, the golden statue stood solemnly, and the giant Buddha's eyes were lowered, making it difficult to see clearly through the swirling smoke.

Yuanhui led several richly dressed female patrons to kneel silently in the shadows behind the prayer cushions.

These are female relatives of officials who donated a large sum of money for incense and were granted special permission to enter the temple in the early morning to quietly pray for blessings.

The handbell rang.

The monks clasped their hands together and bowed their heads. The chanting of sutras began, buzzing like a swarm of bees around the golden hall.

The young monks in the front row had droopy eyelids and their chanting was weak and listless.

Out of the corner of their eyes, however, they seemed to be smeared with honey, glancing slenderly at the graceful figure of the female benefactor in the back row, exchanging knowing, secret laughs.

Especially one dressed in light green silk The curves of the waist and hips that are inadvertently outlined when kneeling in worship.

Even the young novice monks standing by the pillars of the hall would take the opportunity of adding oil to get closer and smell the wafting fragrance of cosmetics.

Even worse, under the guise of handing over scriptures and guiding kneeling in worship, some men would inadvertently brush their fingers against a female guest's delicate hand or wrist, eliciting a soft gasp in return.

They bowed their heads, clasped their hands in prayer, and confessed their sins, while secretly plotting how to later lead him to a meditation room for private blessing under the guise of "consecration" and "blessing."

Morning chanting, which is supposed to be a time to calm the mind, has become an ordeal of restlessness and distraction at Baoguang Temple.

The precepts and rules of Buddhism are recited on one's lips, but one cannot settle one's mind on them.

Beside the incense table at the corner of the hall, there is a white jade vase filled with clear water, and several colorful little snakes can be vaguely seen swimming inside.

This is a snake among the eight heavenly dragons in the temple, ostensibly for offering, but actually for viewing.

In the shadows, several mythical beasts crouched before the Buddha.

A gray wolf with a single horn on its forehead, wearing a golden band engraved with scriptures around its neck, had a murky but gentle gaze. Occasionally, it would swish its tail, sweeping across the smooth, mirror-like gold brick floor.

This is the "Listening to the Sutra Wolf King," who was once a powerful demon who dominated the area. After being converted, he became a scenic spot in the temple.

Several peacocks and cranes with beautiful plumage stand on specially made gilded frames for worshippers to admire, which are called "auspicious omens before the Buddha".

Only the monks knew that these sacred beasts before the Buddha needed to take specially made pills regularly, otherwise their demonic energy would leak out and they would go berserk.

After the morning prayers, the monks filed out.

The monks immediately put on warm smiles and greeted the pilgrims with friendly words and skillful manners.

The wealthy were led to a side hall immeasurably virtuous, and the beautiful female benefactors were led to a quiet and peaceful meditation room.

The temple's corridors and halls wind and turn, leading to hidden paradises in the depths.

A corner of the courtyard behind the dining hall.

Several unskilled monks were amusing themselves around an old monkey that was chained up and had a swastika on its forehead.

They poked it with sticks, forcing it to do all sorts of funny things, imitating worshippers kneeling in prayer, which made everyone laugh.

This old monkey was once a Foundation Establishment monkey demon from a nearby mountain. After being forcibly converted, it lost half of its intelligence and its cultivation level plummeted. Instead, it became a source of amusement for the monks.

Deep within the temple.

Abbot Baojing of the Vinaya Institute walked slowly through the stupa forest, his feet glistening with dew.

He walked very lightly, but his hands were busy turning the prayer beads.

The fact that his senior brother Baoxiang did not send back a message as expected made him feel uneasy.

He has reached the "peak" stage in cultivating the four roots of goodness on the path of practice, and his consciousness is far beyond that of ordinary people. Recently, he has been feeling uneasy, as if dark clouds are shrouding the temple.

Zen Master Baojing stopped and looked at the horizon. In the distance, the eaves of the Sutra Repository were outlined with gold in the morning light. They had been newly plated last year with funds donated by wealthy merchants in the city.

He frowned slightly, then relaxed, and continued walking.

Perhaps my senior brother was just preoccupied with trivial matters.

Deep within Tallinn lies a dry well, beneath which lies a hidden, cold, and damp world.

A bear spirit was chained to a stone pillar, with several copper tubes inserted into its chest, from which dark red demon blood dripped and flowed into a stone trough.

Two monks working with fire were carefully collecting bear blood, the main ingredient for refining the "Vitality Pill".

The bear spirit was on its last legs, its heavy breathing echoing in the confined space.

Passing through the pagoda forest, you'll find a row of exquisite Zen temples.

The crabapple blossoms in the courtyard were in full bloom, their roots entwined with the skeletons of several merchants who refused to give alms.

From the innermost room came the faint sound of a pipa, played with a mournful and plaintive tone.

The courtyard gate opened a crack, revealing a fox spirit wearing an ill-fitting monk's robe, with a thin chain locked on her snow-white wrist, who was bowing her head and plucking a string.

On the prayer mat opposite her

The abbot squinted, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knees, while his other hand slipped inside the fox-woman's robe.

The fox-woman's fingertips trembled, and she played a wrong note. Before the abbot even opened his eyes, he slapped her across the face with a crisp sound.

The fox-woman lowered her head, and a tear fell silently onto the string of her zither.

Deep inside was a secluded hut, guarded by burly monks. From inside, one could faintly hear a woman sobbing and a man laughing intimately.

That was a female demon who was converted last month, and now she has become the possession of a certain great benefactor.

The warehouse was piled high with gold, silver, jewels, silks, and satins offered as tribute from all over the country.

The ledger was filled with detailed records, clearly indicating which entries came from high-ranking officials and which from powerful figures.

Zen Master Baojing was not unaware of these impurities.

He would occasionally visit the temple, and when he saw them, he would simply close his eyes and chant Buddhist mantras, tacitly approving and indulging them.

The temple needs to maintain its property and manage its affairs. If it relied solely on quiet meditation and chanting Buddhist scriptures, how could Baoguang Temple have achieved its current status?

As long as the merits and virtues are outwardly complete and the incense offerings are plentiful, some expedient methods are only done out of necessity.

His biggest worry at the moment was that his senior brother Baoxiang and the Dharma protectors had not returned for a long time, which might lead to unforeseen circumstances and damage the overall situation of the temple.

The sun is rising higher.

The area in front of the vermilion gate of Baoguang Temple was already bustling with carriages and people.

The bluestone steps, worn smooth by the footsteps of pilgrims, reflect the warm sunlight.

Outside the temple gate, under the shade of willows.

A young couple stood in the shade of an old willow tree, a few steps away from the bustling crowd.

The man was wearing a long blue cloth gown that had been starched until his hair turned white, and his brows were furrowed.

The woman wore a slightly worn lotus-colored ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), her head bowed, revealing a slender, pale neck.

One hand gripped her husband's sleeve tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, while the other hand instinctively protected her lower abdomen.

"My lord, are we...are we really going in?"

The woman's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, with a tremor.

She glanced quickly at the monks inside the mountain gate, who were dressed in bright yellow robes and looked solemn, and subtly shrank back.

The man opened his mouth, his voice dry, his gaze darting away, unable to look at his wife's face.

"Xing'er...you heard what your mother said."

Aunt Zhang's daughter-in-law came last year and has already given birth to a big, healthy baby boy this year.

Everyone says that the Guanyin Bodhisattva at Baoguang Temple is very efficacious in granting children; as long as you are sincere, you can stay overnight…

He stopped there, his words trailing off as if they were barbed and difficult to utter.

The man was well aware of what "staying overnight" meant.

The so-called "efficacy of praying for a child" required the woman to stay overnight in a specially designated clean room in the temple, which was called "listening to the Buddha's voice and summoning predestined connections."

In reality... the man dared not think too deeply about it.

They had been married for five years without having a child, tried all sorts of folk remedies, and the old mother sighed all day long. The subtle comments from the neighbors were like invisible whips lashing at them.

Baoguang Temple was the last straw they could grasp, even though they knew it was stained with mud.

The man looked up at the majestic temple gate, the golden plaque dazzling in the sunlight, and the welcoming monks in front of the gate greeted and saw off the worshippers in their fine silks and satins with beaming smiles.

But in his eyes, the doorway was like a bottomless maw that swallowed up innocence.

He felt a tightness in his chest.

He wanted to say "Let's go back," but the words stuck in his throat.

Xing'er's eyes instantly reddened, she lowered her head, and her voice trembled with tears:

"But...but I'm scared. What those people said about those masters..."

The man clenched his fist tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand, a look of humiliation and pain flashing across his face.

He was certainly afraid and angry.

But the thought of his elderly mother and the weight of having no offspring shattered that little bit of dignity he had.

He took a deep breath, as if to encourage himself, or perhaps to numbly repeat what he had just heard:

"Sincerity brings results, sincerity brings results."

The masters are enlightened monks; that was...that was a test and blessing from the Buddha..."

The man's voice grew softer and softer, tinged with sobs.

He himself didn't believe these words; they sounded pathetic. It was less a way of comforting his wife and more a way of numbing his own incompetence.

Just when the couple were overwhelmed by despair and humiliation, and were caught in a dilemma.

A commotion suddenly arose from the direction of the mountain gate.

"Make way! The Queen's carriage is proceeding to offer blessings; all bystanders must give way!"

A troop of palace guards in gleaming armor rode ahead to clear the way.

Following behind was a magnificent carriage, pulled by four snow-white horses, with its curtains drawn low and embroidered with the royal emblem of the Elephant Kingdom.

Before and after the carriage, palace maids and eunuchs stood solemnly, holding whisks and incense burners.

The procession proceeded straight to the gate of Baoguang Temple and stopped.

A welcoming monk came forward early, his face full of respectful smiles.

"Amitabha! The arrival of an angel brings great honor to our humble temple!"

An elderly eunuch, dressed in a crimson official robe, with a pale face and no beard, nodded slightly, his high-pitched voice deliberately raised so that everyone around could hear him clearly:

"The Queen herself has arrived to pray for His Majesty and for the longevity of the Baoxiang Kingdom!"

Please invite the eminent monks of Baoguang Temple to welcome you!

This is Her Majesty's imperial edict and the list of offerings.

As he spoke, he handed over a roll of bright yellow silk.

As soon as he finished speaking, the surrounding worshippers knelt down and hailed him as their lord.

The monk in charge of receiving guests took the list with both hands and quickly glanced at the densely packed list of gold, silver, brocade, and spices.

His smile widened, and he bent even lower:

"Rest assured, Your Majesty! Our temple's Abbot Baojing is already prepared and ready to enter the palace at any time upon imperial decree!"

"It is the greatest honor for our temple to be able to pray for His Majesty and His Majesty!"

After a moment of silence, a loud bell suddenly rang out atop the temple's bell tower, its sound echoing throughout the surrounding area.

Immediately afterwards, the temple gates opened, and two groups of monks wearing brand-new robes filed out, standing on either side with their heads bowed and eyes lowered, their posture respectful.

Then, an old monk wearing a golden robe and holding a golden staff slowly walked out.

It was none other than Abbot Baojing of the Vinaya Academy.

Although he was worried about his senior brother, he had to force himself to be in high spirits in front of the Queen's carriage. He led the monks with duties in the temple to step forward to greet the Queen, chanting Buddhist prayers and behaving with composure, showing the demeanor of a great temple.

"Amitabha! This humble monk, along with all the monks of the temple, respectfully welcomes Her Majesty the Queen's carriage!"

Zen Master Baojing's gaze swept over the kneeling crowd, then turned to the imperial carriage, and he bowed, saying:

"Please invite Your Majesty to the temple; the altar is ready."

With the gauze curtains of the phoenix palanquin fluttering slightly, the Queen, supported by palace maids, slowly stepped down from the palanquin and, surrounded by monks, headed into the temple.

The area in front of the mountain gate gradually became noisy again.

However, the topic of discussion all turned to the Queen's prayers for blessings and the flourishing of Baoguang Temple, truly the number one temple in Baoxiang Kingdom.

The man stole a glance at the phoenix carriage surrounded by admirers, then looked at his pale-faced wife beside him.

Thinking about the fate that was about to be faced, my heart turned cold.

For the royal family, Baoguang Temple was a sacred place for purification and prayer.

For ordinary people like them, it could be a den of iniquity that devours their dignity.

The sun was shining brightly, and the temple was magnificent, but he only felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Xing'er seemed to sense her husband's despair, and her grip on his sleeve tightened, her nails almost digging into his flesh. She sobbed in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Husband, let's go back... I don't want the child anymore, okay?"

The man trembled, looking at his wife's tear-streaked face and then at the somber temple gate, his teeth almost drawing blood from his lips.

In the end, only a barely audible sigh, almost a sob, escaped from his throat:

"Since we're here, we can't leave empty-handed..."

Upon hearing this, Xing'er closed her eyes, and two lines of clear tears silently slid down, dripping onto the dust.

Inside the temple, the sound of bells rang out, chanting filled the air, and the temple was bathed in a sacred aura.

Outside the temple, the blazing sun cuts the willow shade into a boundary of light and shadow.

It also stretched the couple's slender figures, making them appear as if they might be swallowed up by the shadow of the magnificent temple at any moment.