"Benefactor Jiang, this humble monk's abilities are meager. My mind and strength can no longer bear Patriarch Bodhidharma's supreme Buddhist power. I could only assist you this far. On the remaining road of saving all living beings, this humble monk no longer has the strength to follow you. I hope Benefactor Jiang can see this through to the end and accomplish the great undertaking Shaolin has sought to achieve for over a thousand years. This humble monk thanks Benefactor Jiang in advance. Amitabha."
As that mental transmission entered Jiang Dali's mind, Monk Hui En's eyes had already lost their brilliance. He sat where he was and passed away.
Almost at the same time, vivid scenes flashed through Jiang Dali's mind like a lantern show, all depicting the monk's carefree life, smiling like Maitreya.
In one scene, Hui En, seemingly thinner than he was now, sat smiling by a river beneath Mount Song, watching a villager preparing to kill a fish.
The villager clearly recognized the Shaolin monk. Turning back, he lifted a black fish strung through with aquatic grass and said plainly, "Master, I was planning to use the river water to scale and gut this fish, then wash it clean and fill my belly. Since Master is here, I naturally dare not kill casually. Shall I release this fish instead?"
Monk Hui En remained smiling as he replied, "Since the intent to kill has already arisen, why suppress it? As they say, wine and meat pass through the guts, while Buddha remains in the heart. This black fish is plump and juicy. If cooked into soup, it would surely be a fine dish. How could it be wasted like this? Why not cook it into soup and share it with this humble monk?"
"Hm?"
The villager looked stunned. "Master,