The flames crackled and popped, spreading without cease. The main hall, side halls, auxiliary halls, monks' quarters—
One after another, they let out tremendous cracking sounds and collapsed. The flames Shen Le had unleashed seemed to possess a will of their own. Without needing his command, they went from room to room, igniting and spreading:
Every building and every inch of ground in this place had been steeped in sin. One fire would burn it all clean!
Shen Le walked slowly through the flames. As though they possessed intelligence, the raging fire automatically parted to make way for him. It did not so much as singe the corner of his clothes or his backpack, nor did it heat his face or make breathing difficult—
—A whirlwind rapidly circled within the ring of fire, lightly lifting his hems while delivering enough fresh air to him: cool, damp mountain breeze.
Shen Le followed the mountain path, inspecting the buildings one by one. Every structure had been burned down. The monks inside might have all fled, or perhaps some had failed to escape. In any case, there were no corpses lying out in the open.
Only the Buddhist statues, large and small—some of the luckier ones had not been knocked down by falling beams and pillars, and still stood amid the blaze. Others had toppled sideways, yet had not shattered into pieces.
Those tranquil, compassionate, solemn faces flickered between light and shadow amid the twisting flames, as though they had turned into vicious ghosts.
"By rights... I shouldn't destroy you." Shen Le slowly entered the main hall and approached another Guanyin Statue lying on its side. Bowing his head, he stared at the smile on Guanyin's lips.
"But I don't know whether you're like the one outside, made from blood soil—so...
"I'm sorry!