Mysterious Altar True Lord

Within Hidden Spirit Temple, Daoji lay in the Mahavira Hall, tossing and turning in discomfort.

At last, he abruptly sat up. "Alas, I never should have involved myself in this to begin with.

"Oh, well. I did promise that Daoist."

With that, he shuffled into his worn shoes, waved his palm-leaf fan, and swayed his way outside.

"Amitabha. Daoji, where are you going?" asked Elder Yuan Kong, the abbot of Hidden Spirit Temple.

"Old monk, I'm going to help settle a quarrel," Daoji said.

"Daoji, it would be best if you did not involve yourself in this matter," Elder Yuan Kong advised.

"I promised someone; it wouldn't be right to ignore it.

"Besides, when they asked me to go, they never said I wasn't allowed to meddle." Daoji smiled.

"Alas, so be it. Since you say so, I cannot very well stop you. But even if you go, I fear it will be difficult." Elder Yuan Kong shook his head.

"Difficult isn't frightening. What's frightening is not going." As Daoji spoke, he walked out through the temple gates.

He had not gone far when he saw a dark-faced monk standing in the middle of the road.

Upon seeing Ji Gong, the monk pressed his palms together. "Senior Brother, please return."

"Pumiao, instead of remaining at the temple to guide the monks, what are you doing here blocking my way?" Daoji walked up to the monk and rapped his crown three times—bang, bang, bang.

This monk was the Western Tiger-Taming Arhat descended into the mortal world, with the Dharma name Pumiao.

Pumiao rubbed his head and said again, "The Bodhisattva sent me to discuss Chan with Senior Brother."

"What would a mad monk like me know about Chan? No discussion, no discussion." Daoji shook his head and squeezed past him, about