Lingering Echoes

The streets of Qinghe District were as they always were.

The death of the city's richest man seemed not to have caused much of a stir. Although the police swore they would bring the perpetrator to justice, many people secretly spat on the ground when they recalled the things that man had done in the past, feeling that this was simply justice being served.

With the death of the tycoon, the demolition plans for Qinghe District were shelved. Furthermore, due to the intervention of certain departments contacted by some individuals, Sanhuamiao Temple was actually designated as a historical site to be protected, with renovations scheduled to begin soon.

Then, on a certain morning, a middle-aged monk dressed in simple, coarse robes stepped into one of the temples.

The police cordon set up outside did not hinder the monk's footsteps at all. Whether it was the iron railings or the bright yellow caution tape, they passed straight through his body as if they did not exist.

The monk walked into the inner hall and looked at the equally dilapidated Buddha statue.

He pressed his palms together and bowed in greeting.

"Junior brother, I have come to see you."

"I have already taken care of the matters you entrusted to me. These three temples will be renovated soon, but I specifically told them not to touch the Buddha statues; they only need to repair the buildings."

"When the incense is burning brightly here again, the Bodhisattva can rest peacefully underground and no longer concern himself with the trivialities of this world."

"So..."

The monk suddenly looked up, his face full of smiles.

"Junior brother, is there anything else you wish to entrust to me?"

The Buddha statue remained silent.

But the monk did not move; he simply stood there, the smile on his face growing wider.

After a long while, a voice finally sounded.

If Zhou You had been here, he would have recognized it immediately—

It was the voice of the Old Monk.

The Buddha statue, now nothing more than a clay figurine, stiffly lowered its head to look at the monk below. Its lips, frozen in a compassionate smile, did not move at all, yet a withered voice emanated from within.

"Shanhui, why have you come here?"

The monk known as Shanhui merely smiled.

"Junior brother, since you entrusted me with these tasks, I naturally had to report back to you. Now that everything is settled, I thought I would take the opportunity to see what you have become."

However, the Buddha statue's tone remained cold.

"--Do you think I believe that?"

Shanhui shook his head with a smile.

"It is fine if you do not believe me, junior brother, but I truly only came to see you. After all, no one understands better than I do that the Hell Path you have been cultivating has reached a dead end. If you delay any longer, you will either become a demon or a hungry ghost..."

The Buddha statue did not answer, but its clay face seemed to grow cold—even faintly becoming somewhat ferocious.

Yet Shanhui acted as if he saw nothing, continuing to speak to himself.

"It is thanks to you, junior brother, that you thought of this ploy. Taking advantage of the birth of the Buddha Mother, you sought life within death, attempting to usurp the Buddha with your own body. Now that the Buddha Mother has been suppressed, you have achieved great merit and become the dharma body of Sanzhi Dajiang. Perhaps you might even go a step further and cultivate the dharma image of Vaisravana in the temple..."

Hearing this, the expression on the Buddha statue finally softened slightly.

"It was merely a gamble. There were many errors along the way, and I was almost trapped to death by that Liu Shang. It was only thanks to encountering a stroke of fate..."

At this point, the Buddha statue seemed to think of something. It raised its head, meeting a pair of greedy and bright eyes.

Suddenly, it laughed.

"I was wondering why you made this special trip. So, you are also looking for a stroke of fate—by the way, I recall that your Hell Path is in no better condition than my Hungry Ghost Path. What is it? Is the Shirou raised in the temple no longer enough for you, and you want to find something else to eat outside?"

The middle-aged monk looked as if he had been poked in a sore spot; his complexion turned ugly.

"I would have you know, junior brother, that although I have not yet shown signs of disintegration, I have recently found it difficult to control myself. That is why I wanted to borrow some of your fortune. Even if I cannot achieve what you have—seeking life within death—at least I could drag it out for a few more years..."

But the Buddha statue rejected him without hesitation.

"Don't even think about it. I cannot even see through this stroke of fate myself. He does not even have a normal 'Source'. I tried to observe his past and future using the Ghost-Shaped Figurine, but I could only see a blank void—and there are only two possibilities for this."

"First, there is something far beyond my level shielding his destiny, leaving no traces for this old monk to find."

"Second, he appeared out of thin air, without parents or origin, born of heaven and earth, which is why he has no past or future."

The Buddha statue raised its eyes, a look of sarcasm appearing on its face.

"So, senior brother, which one do you think it is?"

The middle-aged monk was rendered speechless.

He stood there with his hands hanging at his sides for a long time, then shook his head, turned, and walked toward the exit.

But at that moment, the Buddha statue called out to him.

"Shanhui, for the sake of our bond as brothers, I can point you toward a way out."

However, the other did not turn back, only saying coldly.

"A way out? Is it the way out of continuing to devour Shirou and slowly waiting for myself to become a hungry ghost, or is it the way out of begging those superstitious fools to have some uncorrupted god or Buddha pull me back from the brink?"

The Buddha statue shook its head and continued.

"Neither. Shanhui, do not forget: I only occupy one of the Three Venerables Temple, and the other two are still empty."

Who would have expected the other party to merely let out a scoff.

"--You want me to usurp the Buddha? That's not a bad idea, but without your fortuitous encounter, even if I were to sit upon the Lotus Throne, I would be nothing more than a demon!" Shanhui's tone grew increasingly mocking. "Besides, those bastards in the city would never let me—"

The voice stopped abruptly. Shanhui slowly turned his head, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face.

And so, the Buddha statue continued.

"That's right, those very people in the city. Now that Jixiang Jimiao Guimu Bodhisattva has been suppressed once more, and Liu Shang, whom they relied upon, is wailing in the Sea of Blood, the safety of all the commoners in the city is guaranteed. Those fellows no longer have any use. Why don't you, Senior Brother, take their place and personally venerate these two Buddha statues stained with the Bodhisattva's blood?"

A long silence followed.

After a long while, Shanhui spoke again.

"What about the monks themselves? There are quite a lot of them, and I don't have the spare time to subdue them one by one and win them over."

The Buddha statue laughed again, but this time, there was no trace of compassion in it.

"Look at you, why would you need to subdue them? These people have already strayed from the path of the Buddha; their eyes see nothing but money and filth, not to mention they nearly ruined my plans. Monks are supposed to be compassionate, so why not do a good deed..."

"--Hurry and send them down to keep Liu Shang company."

The middle-aged monk was stunned upon hearing this, then he began to laugh as well. He pressed his palms together and bowed once more.

"Very well, then..."

"I shall strictly follow the Bodhisattva's decree."