Chapter 2018: Traversing the Western Desert in Self-Questioning, Wielding the Buddha Sword on a Path with No Entrance

The Western Regions, a vast desert.

Above the boundless desert, the sun's intense heat left behind the imprints of hurried footsteps.

"No—"

The echoes of pain, sounding over the desert, were soon carried away by the wind.

The source of the sound was still the hurried figure of a lone traveler in the desert, an ordinary man dressed in a star-patterned robe. His appearance had no specific distinguishing features, but the bronze mirror he held in his hand was quite unique.

The mirror displayed a scene from the Guishizhong of the Southern Region.

"This is bad."

It was unclear what he had heard or what he was thinking. The man in the star-patterned robe put away the mirror, no longer looking at it, and quickened his steps with greater resolve.

His speed was extraordinary. Though he didn't use any spiritual techniques, the desert seemed to shrink beneath his feet, and faint starlight subtly descended from the heavens. The man quickly traversed the vast desert. The Western Regions didn't consist solely of deserts; they merely comprised the vast majority, about ninety-nine percent.

After traversing the desert or finding an oasis within it, one would be like the man in the star-patterned robe at that moment. He suddenly took a large stride, and the scenery before him changed, transitioning from the desert into a desolate area. Here, sand and gravel still predominated, but barren soil was visible, and occasionally, a few grayish-green sprouts could be seen.

A few more steps led him past the desolate area and into a region of strange rock formations. Jagged rocks jutted out here, and the terrain began to steepen. Not far off, there seemed to be greenery, suggesting that further up, there would be "mountains." Mountains represented trees, and trees represented vitality. In the Western Regions, most visible mountains were barren and devoid of life.

As the man in the star-patterned robe gazed into the distance, he saw a touch of green on the steepest peak far away.

"The Buddhist Sect..."

He did not pause. With a few more steps, he passed through the rocky area and entered the deep mountains and ancient forests. Streams, forest birds, and floral fragrances... Compared to the vast desert of the Western Regions, this place was like heaven to hell. Turning a bend on a secluded, rarely trodden path in the forest, the scene transformed: ahead lay a small, dilapidated temple.

In front of the temple, a young novice monk, appearing no older than seven or eight, stood leaning on a wooden staff, nodding off.

"Huh?" He suddenly woke with a start, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the man approaching the temple.

"Ah!" The little novice monk exclaimed. He abruptly pushed away his staff and scampered a couple of steps, but didn't actually run. Just as his head twisted into the temple doorway, his feet followed, but then his head twisted back out again: "Amitabha, benefactor, please wait."

As his feet returned, he pulled his head back into the temple, stumbling and dragging his feet back inside, yelling as he ran: "Abbot! Abbot Youxi!" "Someone's really here, we really waited for someone, come out and see, quickly, come out and look!"

A smile played at the corners of the man's eyes, and before him was a scene teeming with life. Inside the old temple, there seemed to be quite a few people, and faint sounds of commotion could be heard, but no one appeared.

"Caw—"

Suddenly, crows and birds startled and flew through the forest, and leaves rustled wildly. The mountain path trembled slightly, and with a thud, something heavy seemed to fall at the temple entrance. When one looked up, it was a corpulent old monk.

The old monk, though portly, did not look unkind. He wore a red kasaya, a long jade necklace around his neck, and his earlobes hung down to his jawline. His face was kind, with benevolent eyes and a gentle demeanor.

"Amitabha." After blocking the path at the temple entrance, the old monk pressed his palms together, a remorseful expression on his face, and spoke first: "A friend comes from afar, and should rightly be offered tea and water. However, this deep mountain and ancient forest have no grain or rice, and the temple's wooden chairs are either old or withered. We hope our esteemed guest will forgive us; we cannot invite you into the temple. If you have matters to discuss, you may do so in front of the temple. Alternatively, there is a pavilion in front of the forest with simple tea and plain cups, please make yourself comfortable there." He extended a hand to point in a distant direction, then pressed his palms together again, lowered his gaze, and softly murmured to himself, "A sin, a sin."

The man in the star-patterned robe chuckled at this. "I am indeed quite thirsty. Monks do not lie; does this temple of yours truly have no tea whatsoever, old abbot?"

Hearing this, the old monk could only sigh deeply.

"Clang, clang, clang—"

Just then, sounds of shattering jars and breaking bowls echoed from inside the temple, accompanied by the rustling of grain rolling across the ground and a chorus of hushed sighs. The old monk slowly closed his eyes, then said, "There is none left."

"That makes me seem quite inhumane then..." As the man in the star-patterned robe spoke, he took out his bronze mirror, glanced at it, but showed no intention of leaving. "Venerable Elder, do you not wish to ask my name, or what my purpose here is?"

"A guest comes from afar, our paths cross briefly like dust, worldly affairs are bothersome, do not let them stain the ordinary mind." The old monk shook his head slightly, indicating he wasn't particularly eager to know.

The man in the star-patterned robe clearly didn't wish for their paths to end so quickly. He respectfully cupped his fist and said, "My name is Nangong Youshu. May I ask the abbot's name?"

The old monk covered his ears, indicating he hadn't heard the name.

"Abbot Youxi, are you truly unwilling to hear the purpose of my visit? It might be quite interesting, you know?"

"Once one enters Buddhism, all worldly ties are severed. Passersby are all like smoke and clouds."

"Abbot, your temple wall is quite low. I feel like I could easily hop over it with a rabbit's kick."

"Benefactor Nangong, what is your purpose in coming here?"

Only then did the man in the star-patterned robe, who called himself Nangong Youshu, narrow his eyes and smile. He quickly adopted a devout expression, bowed with cupped hands, and spoke very kindly: "My name is Nangong Youshu." He specifically emphasized it again before continuing: "I come from the Sinful Lands of the Southern Region, intending to impart the Great Dao of Heavenly Secrets in the Western Regions. However, I found the journey filled with death and devoid of vitality, which left me quite dejected. Passing by this ancient temple nestled in the deep mountains and forests, I found it brimming with life. Naturally, I felt it was extraordinary, and thus I made a special trip to visit."

He paused, then the courteous heavenly secrets master smiled and pointed towards the temple gate behind the abbot: "Just now, I saw the novice monk in front of the temple; his complexion was ruddy, and his spiritual wisdom was innate. And now, venerable abbot, you have appeared, your speech is extraordinary, and your foundation profound. I surmise this place is blessed with spiritual essence, capable of elucidating Buddhist teachings and interpreting the roots of the Dao. Thus, I had a wild thought: might I hold the abbot's hand, enter this ancient temple for a discussion, and we two, sleeping foot-to-foot, freely discuss the Great Dao? Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Abbot Youxi pressed his palms together, and after an "Amitabha," he calmly stated, "If it is a delusion, then let it be a delusion."

"Huh?" Nangong Youshu froze in place.

With his silence, the whispered conversations of the young novice monks on the other side of the low wall inside the temple grew louder: "Hiss! He wants to sleep with Abbot Youxi?" "How do you sleep foot-to-foot? Is it feet against feet? The bed isn't that big!" "No, no, I like to sleep belly-to-belly. Abbot Youxi's tummy is so soft, sleeping pressed against it is so comfortable, hee hee."

"...Shut up, all of you shut up!"

Only then did silence fall.

Outside the wall, Nangong Youshu chuckled after a long pause, then cupped his hands and praised highly, "Venerable abbot is truly extraordinary. Your speech, if not returning to simplicity, has certainly returned to truth; it is truly..."

"He seems a bit hypocritical."

The faint voice of a novice monk drifting from the low wall made Nangong Youshu's words falter, and his face turned a shade of ashen blue. Abbot Youxi seemed to rarely, if ever, reprimand his novice monks, and turning a blind eye to the affairs behind the low wall, he merely glanced at the sky and said: "It's getting late, Benefactor Nangong. Please speak directly."

Nangong Youshu no longer prevaricated. He spoke gravely and seriously: "To be honest, I indeed have an important matter to discuss, one entrusted to me by an old acquaintance from the Buddhist Sect."

Abbot Youxi's eyebrow twitched, but no ripples of emotion appeared in his eyes. "Benefactor, please speak."

"Abbot, do you recognize this sword?" Nangong Youshu spoke as he slowly drew a sword from his chest. It was a great sword, its blade adorned with radiant Buddhist light, imbued with flowing golden power of vows.

Abbot Youxi took a deep breath and closed his eyes: "The Buddhist Sword, Wrathful Immortal."

"Exactly!" Nangong Youshu nodded vigorously. "Can the abbot discern the profound mystery of this sword?"

"It's fake."

"Precisely!" With a flick of Nangong Youshu's hand, the Buddhist Sword, Wrathful Immortal, shattered into pieces with a snap, finally dissolving into points of light and vanishing. He said with a mournful expression: "My old friend gave me this sword, but I showed you only a shadow. However, abbot, you must be a little more understanding. This sword truly cannot be unsheathed casually, nor can it be shown to anyone at will. Even though the abbot said earlier, 'Once one enters Buddhism, all worldly ties are severed,' it's likely that upon seeing this sword again, some worldly thoughts might arise. Even if you don't develop them, there are many people in this temple who will."

Nangong Youshu looked troubled, but quickly produced a golden seal. "But the mark of this sword, the seal of its vow power, this can serve as proof of my identity. Abbot Youxi should take a look, and you will know that I, Nangong, have no ulterior motives for this trip, or at least nothing that would harm the Buddhist Sect."

He tossed the golden seal. Abbot Youxi reached out and caught it. The seal was shaped like a Buddha's "palms pressed together" gesture, appearing unremarkable at first glance. A sweep of spiritual perception, however, revealed that the left palm of the Buddha hand-seal was engraved with the character "Buddha," and the right palm with the character "Resentment."

"An object of resentment..." Abbot Youxi's face showed dismay, and he looked even more troubled.

Nangong Youshu looked pleased, a vibrant smile on his face, and said, "It's best that the abbot recognizes this item. Thirty years ago, Youyuan spoke to me." He paused, his tone becoming compassionate, then pressed his palms together and spoke devoutly: "If the Buddha sits on the Heavenly Ladder, and the world is overturned, then carry this seal west, and ask Youxi in your heart, just as I now ask..."

"This great era is thus: my Buddha does not enter. My Buddha does not enter, and remains hidden from the world. This great era is thus: my Buddha chooses to enter. My Buddha chooses to enter, and for a thousand years, it will be difficult to return."

"Senior brother, what choice will you make?"

At this point, Nangong Youshu raised his head and looked at the sky. The hour was not late; the sun was high in the sky. Previously, it had clearly just been Abbot Youxi's words to send him away. But it wasn't until sunset that Abbot Youxi, who had seemed petrified, finally trembled slightly in his massive body and declared with a trembling but firm voice: "I will enter the world."

"Enter the world?" Nangong Youshu countered seriously. "Entering the world, just like the Buddhist Sect's previous attempts, which flourished for a time, then declined and withdrew, with the Great Brahma Dragon Roar beginning and then ending? And this time, it is Youxi who enters the world, but will others like Youyuan Buddha also come to an end?"

"If it doesn't end well?"

"Then it won't end well."

Abbot Youxi had pondered for an entire afternoon, as if he had considered everything. But Nangong Youshu, standing opposite him, had clearly contemplated for more than just an afternoon: "Do you only consider brotherly affection, or also the sect's bond? Abbot, have you considered that while your action might help Youyuan, if it ultimately costs the entire Buddhist Sect, how could Youyuan bear that in his heart?"

Abbot Youxi fell silent at this, his face ashen, as if he had long expected this. Nangong Youshu pressed on, continuing: "Leaving everything else aside, if you go to the Central Region to assist this time, and Youyuan awakens but is already controlled by the Demonic Ancestor, what then?"

Abbot Youxi's body trembled violently; he opened his mouth but couldn't utter a sound.

"Why did Youyuan enter the crossroads? Why was the Fallen Pagoda erected? Why is the return you've waited thirty years for still uncertain... Abbot Youxi, you have answers to all of these." Nangong Youshu spoke earnestly, then retrieved the Buddha hand-seal from Abbot Youxi's hand. His words became extremely sharp, carrying a sense of chilling sharpness: "That day, he urged me to bring these words, and at the end, he added a postscript: 'If my senior brother Youxi chooses 'to enter the world', wielding this sword, ascending to the Buddhist Sect, then there will be no Buddha in this world.'"

Clang—

The sword hummed. Nangong Youshu once again drew the golden, radiant sword from his chest. This time, however, the sword had become extremely menacing, like the wrathful gaze of a Vajra.

"Wrathful Immortal..."

Abbot Youxi, however, seemed to have strengthened his resolve, saying, "Ominous evil will descend upon the world, and people will suffer."

Nangong Youshu, holding the sword, laughed heartily: "Even the Holy Palace turns a blind eye; only your Buddhist disciples, with their Bodhisattva hearts, feel the need to go to such lengths?"

"Do not judge my heart by others; do not see defilement in this world."

"Even if I stand here with a sword blocking your path?" Nangong Youshu inverted the Buddhist Sword, Wrathful Immortal. As he looked, Abbot Youxi slowly shook his head and said with a sigh: "Benefactor Nangong, you cannot stop me."

As his words fell, his kasaya swayed, and his white beard lifted. Abbot Youxi's expression became stern. He uttered a soft sound and expelled a golden, radiant Saint Emperor Relic. The power of vows surged like lightning from his eyes. The entire mountain forest trembled violently.

The young novice monks in the ancient temple retreated in fright. "The Big-Bellied Abbot is angry." "So scary! Last time the Big-Bellied... Oh, never mind, run, let's run!"

Saint Emperor Youxi, making a show of strength. Although Nangong Youshu trembled slightly, he stood his ground with the sword planted, his face as firm as iron: "Abbot Youxi, today you either strike me down and leave, and you may save all living beings; or you cross over me to the Central Region, and I will slaughter all the Buddhist disciples on this mountain. Choose!"

As his words fell, the trees in the surrounding area rustled. Under the dim sky, countless scarlet gazes seemed to open in the mountain forest.

"What's that?" A young novice monk, clinging to the entrance of the ancient temple, widened his eyes. Did he see countless devils awakening in the darkness?

"So scary!"

"Bu Bei, Bu Le, come quickly and look! What are these things? Are they people?" Two more novice monks peered around the doorway.

The scarlet eyes in the forest seemed to emerge entirely. They were figures dressed in star-patterned robes, roughly estimated to be no less than a thousand. Some were old, some frail, some women and children, some ordinary... But without exception, their expressions were extremely stiff, like puppets on strings. Yet, when a spark of light appeared in their eyes, they became almost human.

"These are..." The young monk Bu Le, clinging to the doorway, swallowed with difficulty. He had been out into the world, he was well-traveled and knowledgeable, so he was even more terrified, feeling that Abbot Youxi might not be able to handle so many monsters: "Heavenly Mechanism Puppets?"

"No! Heavenly Mechanism Divine Envoys? So many Heavenly Mechanism Divine Envoys!"