Incense Offered to Me, a God Nurtured in My Heart

"Four hundred and eighty temples of the Southern Dynasty—how many towers stood amid the mist and rain?"

Seated in the carriage, Chen Cuo watched the scenery pass and let out a long sigh. He felt keenly how much influence Buddhism held in the Southern Dynasty, especially in Jiankang City.

That morning, he had left Jiankang City through Dongli Gate in the east. He had followed a suburban road north, turned west at Mount Jiang, crossed East Gate Bridge, then traveled past Capsized Boat Mountain and Xuanwu Lake before reentering Jiankang's outer city through the north gate.

Along the way, he had seen no fewer than twenty temples, large and small!

"What a fine poem!" Beside the carriage, Chen Hai immediately began his customary flattery.

Chen Cuo paid the praise no mind. Pointing toward a sprawling temple complex halfway up a distant mountain, he asked their guide, "Which temple is that?"

"Guishan Temple. Its Temple Master is a renowned good man. He hands out porridge, urges people to do good, and takes in orphans." Their guide was a hunter named Ma Wu, from an estate belonging to the Nankang line. Chen Hai had chosen him because he knew Jiankang City well. "The temple flourished in Gaozu's time. It has many grand halls, and its Incense is flourishing!"

Chen Cuo nodded appreciatively. "There are temples out in the wilds, and now a great temple here in the outer city. A little farther south is Chaogou, isn't it? This temple occupies some precious ground."

"Indeed, my lord," Ma Wu said with a smile. "Another six or seven li and we'll see Chaogou."

"Chaogou is crowded with mansions, and Guishan Temple isn't far from it," Chen Cuo said. "There should be plenty of people there. Let's have a look."

Chen Hai had been trying to read Chen Cuo's mind. They had passed so many temples, yet his lord had only asked about them before ordering the carriage onward. He had shown no desire to visit any of them. But now, upon seeing Guishan Temple, he wanted to go inside...

At that thought, Chen Hai understood. Liao Ran.

His master wanted a temple close to the city and full of people.

That was precisely it.

Chen Cuo was not searching for a temple because he wished to worship Buddha. He wanted somewhere to stay as a precaution against another attack by the Evil Ghost.

Zhou Youzi had not said so outright, but Chen Cuo suspected that Buddhist School temples in this world possessed great power to ward off evil. If he took shelter in one and the Evil Ghost returned, that power might protect him.

The suburbs outside the city, however, were largely wilderness and forest, where beasts and birds were common. Even a temple that looked magnificent by day could feel like an ancient shrine lost in the wild once night fell.

With that in mind, Chen Cuo wanted to stay near the city. If Zhou Youzi returned, word could reach him quickly, and he could go to meet him.

While he was lost in thought, the carriage reached the edge of the temple grounds.

"We'll have to get down here," Ma Wu called from outside. "From this point to the temple itself, all this vast stretch of land belongs to the temple."

Surprised, Chen Cuo stepped down and looked ahead. The temple was still far away. Fertile fields spread across the surrounding countryside, and a stone pavilion stood partway along the road.

Many farmers were working on both sides of the road.

"Who are they?"

"The temple's tenant farmers. They say Guishan Temple owns dozens of qing of land. This is only part of it; there's plenty more outside the city." Ma Wu rattled off the details as though counting his own treasures. "Besides tenant farmers, the temple has many Warrior Monks. They often go out to patrol and sweep away bandits."

Drawing on fragments of Chen Fangqing's memories, Chen Cuo asked, "If the temple owns so much land, why does it so often solicit donations from Aristocratic Clans and other people?"

"I've heard it's so they won't forget their roots," Ma Wu said, though he sounded uncertain.

Chen Cuo nodded and asked no more. With Chen Hai, Ma Wu, and a few attendants, he set off along a path between the fields.

On either side, the countryside was peaceful.

In the distance, women worked by the houses and children played: a picture of men tilling the fields and women weaving at their looms.

Chen Cuo was about to offer a word of praise when his whole body suddenly felt heavy. Discomfort washed over him; cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and dizziness made him realize something was wrong.

What's happening?

Anxious, he looked up. His eyes widened. Above the temple, he saw a Buddha blazing with light!

As if answering his gaze, the Buddha suddenly swelled and descended straight toward him, like Mount Tai bearing down upon his head!

Chen Cuo stopped short. An invisible pressure struck him and forced him back two steps. He drew a deep breath and looked again, but the Buddha was gone.

The people beside him found his behavior strange, but none dared ask about it.

Frowning in thought, Chen Cuo wiped away his cold sweat. A possibility occurred to him.

Daoist Zhou said the Evil Ghost was bound to my will. It was originally hidden in words, without form, and only took shape because my mind gave it an outline. Perhaps that left me tainted by its sinister influence. The moment I approached, this Buddhist manifestation appeared to suppress that evil, which is why I feel unwell.

Though his body felt wretched, the thought gave him no desire to leave.

That also means staying here really could keep the Evil Ghost at bay!

Chen Cuo quickened his pace, but the farther he walked, the more cold sweat gathered on his brow.

Halfway there, as he passed the Stone Pavilion, he heard laughter and conversation inside. A casual glance showed him two Daoists seated there: one a youth, the other a young man.

Daoists outside a Buddhist temple? Come to think of it, a Daoist was the one who advised me to come here. Strange. Very strange!

Chen Cuo looked away and paid them no further heed. All he wanted was to reach the temple and suppress the Evil Ghost.

"Senior Brother, you said that to gather Incense, one must visualize something in one's heart. What did you mean?"

Chen Cuo froze!

At the words from the pavilion, he stopped as though struck by a spell of immobilization. He retraced his steps to the Stone Pavilion and took another look.

Only then did he realize that the young man had been speaking—and that he had called the youth beside him Senior Brother.

The Young Daoist smiled faintly. Instead of answering, he turned to look at Chen Cuo.

"Reverend sirs..." Chen Cuo cupped his hands, understanding at once. He stepped forward to greet them. "I heard you speaking of Incense just now. The subject interests me greatly. Might I join you?"

Expectation showed on his face, but inwardly he wondered why Zhou Youzi had spoken so vaguely, under so many restrictions, while these two discussed the matter openly in broad daylight.

"A meeting is fate," the Young Daoist said with a smile. "Since you could hear our words, you're no ordinary man. Why not sit down and discuss the Dao with us?"

"Thank you." Chen Cuo found the whole thing peculiar. Discuss the Dao outside a Buddhist temple? Still, they were willing to talk, and he could not have asked for more. Temple or not, he would have discussed it outside the Imperial Palace!

Chen Cuo sat down at once.

The pavilion was small. With three people seated inside, it would have been cramped if anyone else entered.

Chen Hai and the others could only remain outside. Chen Hai in particular watched the two Daoists with wary eyes.

Chen Cuo looked them over again and asked, "I heard you mention Incense and visualization. Could you explain in more detail?"

"Why not? Though it would be best if ordinary folk did not overhear." Smiling, the Young Daoist flicked his sleeve toward Chen Hai and the others. "I brought this up with my junior brother because we are outside a Buddhist temple. Buddhists are especially adept at creating Buddhas. They spread their teachings across the land, fashion Buddha statues, then visualize the Buddha in their hearts to attain Incense."

"Oh?" Drawn in by the subject, Chen Cuo forgot to wonder about the flick of the youth's sleeve. By that account, does Buddhism follow the Way of Incense? Is that why Daoist Zhou sent me here?

His spirits rose. Thinking of how the account of The Painted Skin had spread, he pressed on. "Fashioning Buddha statues so all living beings know of them draws in people's thoughts, doesn't it? But how are those thoughts gathered and turned to one's own use?"

The Young Daoist laughed with an open, unrestrained air. "So you know only part of it, my friend, and not the details. You were testing us with that question to get your answer."

Chen Cuo was startled and was about to explain.

The Young Daoist waved a hand. "Never mind, never mind. I said our meeting was fate. Since you've asked, why shouldn't I tell you?"

Relieved, Chen Cuo listened in earnest. This Daoist may be young, but he's bold and generous. You really can't judge a person by appearances.

"The common method for gathering Incense is visualization," the Young Daoist said. "Buddhist School practitioners first fashion a statue, then visualize the Buddha in their hearts and shape a god within. Put plainly, the Incense Way derives from the methods of gods. Gods dwell in temples or the heavens; the Buddhist Incense Method makes one's own body the temple and houses the Buddha in one's heart. It takes in the Incense of believers to strengthen the god within oneself! It is raising oneself as a god!"

Raising oneself as a god!

Chen Cuo turned the words over in his mind and gradually began to understand. Yet the explanation lacked specifics, and he was about to ask more.

But the two Daoists suddenly stood.

"Reverend sirs, you're..." Chen Cuo rose with them. We've barely spoken. Are they leaving already?

"I suddenly remembered something we have yet to do. Until fate brings us together again!" As the Young Daoist spoke, he and the young man turned and left. They moved remarkably fast, reaching the far side of the fields in the blink of an eye.

Why does everyone from the Daoist schools move so fast? Is crossing miles in a single step standard practice?

As Chen Cuo wondered, a Buddhist invocation sounded behind him.

Chen Hai hurried over to report that Guishan Temple's Guest-Master Monk had arrived.

Chen Cuo turned to greet him.

The Guest-Master Monk had regular features and a composed expression. He pressed his palms together, returned the greeting with a smile, then led the way.

"What is this Guest-Master Monk called?" Preoccupied with the two Daoists, Chen Cuo had not asked earlier. Now it felt awkward to ask the monk directly, so he found a moment to ask Ma Wu.

"This humble one doesn't know. There's usually no need to remember a Guest-Master Monk's name."

Another thought came to Chen Cuo, and he asked whether they had heard his conversation with the Daoists.

Both Ma Wu and Chen Hai said, "We were outside the pavilion and couldn't hear clearly. Wind kept sounding in our ears."

Chen Cuo understood. Liao Ran: the two Daoists had used some kind of method.

They appeared there claiming to discuss the Dao, yet they revealed something of the Buddhist School's workings. They may have had an agenda—some contest between Buddhism and the Daoist schools, perhaps. I may simply have stumbled into it.

He had enough self-awareness not to think himself too important.

As they walked, the invisible pressure grew steadily stronger. At the temple's main gate, Chen Cuo drew a deep breath, had Chen Hai present his visiting card, pledged a donation of silver, and asked to tour the temple.

Only then did the Guest-Master Monk learn who Chen Cuo was. Seeing how generous he was, the monk was delighted and became considerably more deferential. He led Chen Cuo inside and began introducing everything.

The temple was just as Ma Wu had described. Grand halls stood one after another, each magnificent. The Buddha statues within wore solemn, majestic expressions. According to the Guest-Master Monk, offerings had been placed inside every Golden Body, enabling them to drive off demons and subdue monsters.

Hearing this, Chen Cuo felt reassured.

In his previous life, he had traveled now and then and seen his share of fine scenery, temples, and Daoist Temples. Guishan Temple's scale and layout were enough to inspire awe in people of the Southern Dynasty, but from Chen Cuo they drew only an appreciative gaze.

Watching beside him, the Guest-Master Monk marveled inwardly. Convinced that this lord never let joy or anger show, he respected him all the more. He also noticed that Chen Cuo paused with a grave expression whenever he passed a Golden Body Buddha or arhat, and his regard for him grew.

What he did not know was that whenever Chen Cuo passed one of the gilded statues, the invisible pressure on him increased. Even taking a step was becoming difficult.

After touring for a while, they arrived outside Vajra Hall. Judging that the time was right, Chen Cuo said the visit had stirred something in him and asked to stay for a few days.

Delight appeared on the Guest-Master Monk's face. Naturally, he would not turn away such an honored guest. He immediately went to inform the temple's Presiding Monk.

Chen Cuo urged him to hurry, then found a place to sit and let out several long breaths.

Chen Hai had noticed that something was wrong with Chen Cuo. He came over and asked whether he wished to return home to recuperate.

Chen Cuo shook his head and waited.

But after a long while, the Guest-Master Monk had still not returned, and Chen Cuo felt worse and worse.

Staying here for just a little while is this hard to bear. If I live here for days, it might kill me!

He was torn. The more uncomfortable he felt, the harder it would be for the Evil Ghost to reach him—but his body could scarcely endure it. He tried to find some relief, first asking Chen Hai for water, then moving somewhere with a breeze. Neither helped.

Chen Cuo grew anxious.

Then a thought struck him: the Nameless Breathing Technique.

I'll try it first. It might not work. If it doesn't, I'll try visualization. That should just mean picturing a Buddha statue in my mind, shouldn't it?

With that, Chen Cuo abruptly changed the rhythm of his breathing.

Hum!

In Vajra Hall ahead, the guardian vajras standing on either side of the entrance suddenly trembled and gave a faint hum.

But the sound was too soft and too brief for anyone at the entrance to notice.

I've been a little tired these past few days, so this is today's only update. It's twenty-seven and a half percent longer than an average chapter, though!

I'll take the chance to sort out the plot ahead.