Amitabha Sutra

Chapter 15: Amitabha Sutra

The saying "Entering a noble's gate is as deep as the sea" was best verified within the walls of Marquis Wuwen's Mansion. Although Hong Yi was still only a scholar, a long way off from passing the imperial examinations or earning military merit, he was confident he could achieve it. Even though Hong Yi kept the principle of a scholar remaining calm even if a mountain collapsed before him, he still felt a chill down his back and broke out in a cold sweat. Hong Yi walked over and picked up the scripture fragment with fire tongs. He discovered that this scripture was actually like a silk scroll, and he lifted a large piece! It was extremely thin, densely packed with text, and in the center was a golden Buddha sitting in the void, with countless suns, moons, and stars revolving around it. First was the issue of status; a scholar working as a groom would look bad if word got out. "Hmm?" This point was a severe violation of the mansion's rules, a change that would turn everything upside down. "I must achieve this myself, win the title of noble lady for my mother, and let the entire mansion see!" Hong Yi clenched his fists and thought to himself. He didn't know what material this scroll was made of, but it couldn't even be burned by fire. If the emperor committed a great fault, a scholar should remonstrate; if the emperor refused to listen repeatedly and acted arbitrarily, then he should be deposed! Hong Yi responded, walked to the right side of the hall, and stood still, saying loudly: "What are your orders, Father?" If it weren't for the fact that he had practiced the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist and his body had become stronger, he felt he might have collapsed under the sheer weight of the Marquis's authority. Hong Yi guessed that this was the root reason why his father opposed him learning martial arts. "Hmm." The strictness and rules of the Marquis Wuwen's Mansion were famous throughout the imperial court and were quite admired by some scholar-officials. Amitabha Sutra! "Hong Yi, stand to the right; I have something to say to you." Facing his father's majesty, Hong Yi finally understood that without strength, a scholar's composure and sense of justice were somewhat hollow. Walking on the path back to his courtyard, Hong Yi closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. The main hall of the mansion was built with grandeur and power, the floor paved entirely with large, polished green flagstones, flat as a mirror and hard as iron. He knew that in front of Hong Xuanji, there was simply no opportunity to argue; even if your reasoning was correct, you had to submit. "Why not let me learn martial arts? Is it because you fear that after I pass the imperial examinations and enter the army to earn merit, I might be ennobled? My mother might be granted a title, disrupting the rules of the mansion." "Father, your instruction is correct; I will not do it again." Hong Yi saw the name of the scripture at a glance. On a large chair to the left of the offering table sat a man in brocade robes with a purple-gold crown on his head. "If I were a Martial Saint, I would certainly dare to argue based on reason before my father. What is greatest in the world? Reason is greatest. Father and son can argue based on reason. Even ruler and subject can argue based on reason!" "You haven't even mastered the classics, yet you want to learn archery and horsemanship!" Upon hearing this, the Marquis frowned slightly, seemingly disapproving of Hong Yi's desire to learn archery and horsemanship, and flatly refused in one breath: "You must first master the classics. If you don't master the classics and go off to learn martial arts, you will be nothing but a brute. Do not mention this matter again, do you understand?" Hong Yi thought to himself. "I heard you answered Princess Yongchun with a poem in cursive script? Why not use standard script? Are you showing off your literary talent? Instead of reading the classics and principles, you do these crooked things?" Even for Hong Yi, this chaotic wandering would have left him lost without the old steward leading the way; he wouldn't have known north from south. This was the principle of a scholar! Unfortunately, without strength, these principles could not be upheld. On the offering table were many items, all covered in bright yellow satin, clearly items bestowed by the emperor. They were all being worshipped with incense. "Understood." Hong Yi still did not argue. "Father, I wish to learn archery and horsemanship. I hope you will grant this." Seeing the atmosphere soften slightly, Hong Yi boldly proposed his plan. "You have violated family law with this matter. Originally, I should give you twenty strokes, but you hold a scholarly rank, and the imperial examinations are coming after the spring, a grand national event, so I will spare you for now. If you pass the provincial examination, it will naturally be wiped clean; if you do not pass, the family law will be executed all the same." The Marquis said with a completely expressionless face. Seeing the old steward bring Hong Yi in, the Marquis pointed with his hand. Of course, this was because he had long lived in a corner and had not moved about the mansion. It was better that he hadn't looked, but upon looking, he discovered the dark golden scripture in the ashes of the brazier. He was the true master of the entire Marquis Wuwen's Mansion, Marquis Wuwen Hong Xuanji, the pillar of the imperial court, and a Martial Saint of the Great Gan Dynasty. In his memory, he had only been to the main hall once when he was young, accompanying his mother. This mansion, where human warmth was as cold as blades and frost, was not his home. Just as Hong Yi spoke, the old steward, who had retreated to the corner of the doorway, looked suspicious, seemingly surprised by Hong Yi's composure; even the eldest son, who had long since married, was always trembling and dared not breathe loudly in front of Hong Xuanji. Under the character for "Ritual" was a large purple sandalwood offering table, big enough for four or five people to lie down on. The Marquis spoke lightly, his tone so cold it made one shudder. As soon as this cold "Hmm" came out, the temperature in the entire hall seemed to drop significantly, and Hong Yi felt his legs go weak, almost collapsing. Hong Yi lowered his head. Passing through several long corridors and steps. "A scholar must steady his mind; even if a mountain collapses before him, his expression should not change." Hong Yi thought to himself, steadying his anxious mind as he followed the old steward into the main hall. "Eh? What is that!" It was the character for "Ritual." "Why can't I steady my heart?" Second, taking care of horses was hard work, and one had to get up at night to feed them; there were many requirements. It took too much time and energy. The Marquis Wuwen's Mansion was the most particular about rules, and Hong Yi knew that if he argued, it wouldn't be strange to have his legs broken for a minor offense or to be beaten to death by family law for a major one. These rules applied not only to him but even to the legitimate eldest son. "Yes, Father." Hong Yi lowered his head again. Hong Yi could not afford to learn archery and horsemanship now; although he had ten gold coins, he couldn't afford a good horse or a good bow, let alone the fact that raising a horse required a groom. Hong Yi couldn't possibly take care of it himself. This was something the rule-abiding Marquis could not tolerate. Before arriving at the main hall, Hong Yi suddenly felt a bit uneasy. He knew it was because his father's authority was too heavy; he didn't know what to expect from being called suddenly. Passing through several large gardens, several large ponds, and over a dozen arched gates, following the old steward, Hong Yi walked for the time it takes to eat a meal before arriving at the main hall in the center of the mansion. "If a ruler has a great fault, one must remonstrate; if he refuses to listen repeatedly, then he should be replaced! My father's principles of submission deviate from the original meaning of a scholar. However, how can I argue these points?" This man had slightly graying temples, his hands resting on the armrests of the large chair, white as jade and spotless, giving one the feeling that he grasped infinite power. "Hmm?" If he passed the imperial examinations, entered the army, earned military merit, and was ennobled, his mother would be granted a title, and her spirit tablet would immediately be placed alongside Lady Ci'an. Even his father would have to offer incense during every family sacrifice... "But then again, Ziyue is also a Martial Saint and even a Ghost Immortal. Yet, when facing him, I didn't feel such great pressure. Could it be due to accumulated prestige? Indeed, without strength and confidence, a scholar's principles of remaining calm even if a mountain collapses are somewhat hollow!" "Alright, you may go. Steward Wu, take him to the accounting office to draw one hundred taels of silver so he can prepare for the imperial examinations." After the Marquis said this, he waved his hand: "Go." Wherever this person sat, there was an intimidating majesty that made it impossible to look directly at him, forcing one to lower their head obediently. The Marquis hummed again, but it wasn't a cold hum; his tone softened, and Hong Yi immediately felt the temperature in the hall rise, and his calves stopped trembling. His status meant he couldn't move around the mansion too much. Hong Yi's gaze couldn't help but look at the brazier where the Martial Classic had been burned. Seeing Hong Yi not answering him, the Marquis gave a cold "Hmm." In the main hall, there was a row of antique red-wood chairs, and in the center was a huge piece of calligraphy; the characters were upright and had an oppressive quality that demanded one follow the rules. "Although poetry is not a formal classic, it shows a nimble mind. Your poem was quite decent." The Marquis added: "You are fifteen this year; according to the laws of our Great Gan Dynasty, you are an adult. What are your plans?" Thinking as he walked, Hong Yi returned to his small courtyard, closed the door, and thought quietly, looking at the table, suddenly feeling a bit of regret for the "Martial Classic" that had been burned.