Public Esteem Shields the Mortal Shell, Dreamwandering Brings the Heart Plague

"Greetings, Temple Master."

After the Ink Crane returned, Chen Cuo gathered his thoughts. The wisp of blue-purple smoke returned to his body, and he rose to open the door and welcome his visitor.

It was Master Yuanhui, Temple Master of Guishan Temple.

The name also appeared in Chen Fangqing's fragmented memories.

The Buddhist School master had a handsome face and a gentle manner, though he looked much younger than Chen Cuo had imagined.

Once Yuanhui came in, Chen Cuo did not put on airs. Nor did he mention how the Ink Crane had flown up by itself just now. Instead, he asked Yuanhui for guidance.

Monk Yuanhui kept smiling and acted as though nothing had happened. Pointing at the Ink Crane, he said, "This object is quite ingenious, of excellent quality even among Magical Artifacts. Its marvel lies in drawing out a thread of an ordinary person's Divine Sense, allowing the soul to roam the heavens and earth. This is a method of Nature Cultivation. With this object, even an ordinary person can let his spirit wander beyond the world."

"But Temple Master, you said that when the Ink Crane flies outside, the wind brings a chilling cold, and sunlight makes the danger worse."

Chen Cuo asked in earnest. He recalled the first time he had piloted the Ink Crane in a dream. As it flew over the wall, he had felt a scorching heat, followed by a savage cold wind. Sensing something was wrong, he had hastily descended into an alley, where he finally began to feel better.

Yuanhui nodded. "Precisely. A person's soul dwells within the body, protected by flesh and cut off from the outside world. Daoist cultivators have methods for shedding the shell and letting the soul leap free, but then it loses the protection of the body's blood and vital energy. Something else must shield it..."

Understanding flashed through Chen Cuo's mind. "Merit?"

"Merit is one such thing. Public Esteem can barely serve in its place, though it has many limitations." Yuanhui smiled and nodded. "Most cultivators only dare leave their bodies at night, fearing that cold winds or the blazing sun will damage their souls. My lord was rash this time. Divine Sense is not the soul, but they are connected. What's more, your mind and spirit left your body just now and entered the Jade Crane, making it even more dangerous. If my temple had not offered some protection, and if you did not possess considerable Public Esteem, you would have fallen gravely ill at the very least!"

"Is that so?"

Chen Cuo narrowed his eyes, recalling how he had piloted the Ink Crane at the Marquis's Residence.

Thinking back, he had first felt unwell just as the Ink Crane rose above the wall and faced the wind and sunlight. Only after it descended into the alley had he improved. Had the wall not blocked the wind, and the alley the sunlight?

But if that was the case, why had Daoist Zhou not warned him? He could easily have mentioned it in the note inside the pouch.

A question formed in Chen Cuo's mind.

Yuanhui continued, "My lord possesses Public Esteem, which can stand in for Merit. Merit comes from following heaven's will and benefiting others. As you put it, it serves as a protective barrier, shielding one from the blazing sun and the invading cold. But it is constantly consumed. It can protect you for a time, not indefinitely."

Chen Cuo nodded and committed every word to memory. "Is there anything else I should watch out for?"

"Now that you've refined this object, it is linked to your consciousness," Yuanhui said. "At a thought, your Divine Sense can enter it. You must therefore put it away somewhere dark and sheltered from the wind, preferably in a jade box or a Peachwood Box. A person's consciousness is not always under control; the mind can wander. When asleep, for instance, thoughts arise in dreams and the Mind Monkey can run wild. Ordinarily that would be harmless, but after refining such a Magical Artifact, your consciousness might enter it while you dream. If that happens, even with Public Esteem to protect you, the danger will be immense!"

Chen Cuo's heart jolted, and he pressed for an explanation.

"Public Esteem is not Merit, after all," Yuanhui explained. "It follows the will. If you dream and your Divine Sense drifts out at random, or even your mind and soul leap free, your conscious will is not there to direct them. Public Esteem will remain with your body rather than follow, leaving your Divine Sense and soul without a barrier. Whatever protection the Jade Crane provides would be a cup of water against a blazing cartload of firewood. Inside a room, you might be all right. But the moment you go outside, the sun and wind will tear apart your Divine Sense and Wandering Soul in an instant! You would be left a shattered, soulless wreck!"

Chen Cuo froze.

Was that true?

If piloting the Ink Crane in a dream was so dangerous, then last time at the Marquis's Residence, he had entered the Dream Marsh before piloting it and had even flown around outside. He had felt some discomfort, but he had emerged unharmed!

Yet if it was false, the Temple Master before him had a solemn, dignified bearing and an esteemed reputation. He would not ruin his credibility over such a matter, nor did he have any reason to deceive Chen Cuo.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Cuo realized that the key might lie in the Dream Marsh.

He had piloted the Ink Crane while dreaming, but he had done so through the Dream Marsh!

Naturally, he could not reveal that secret.

Still, Yuanhui was so friendly that Chen Cuo did not want to waste the chance to ask more questions and compare the answers with his own experience. Before he could speak, however, someone knocked at the door. A Young Novice Monk came in, seeking the Temple Master on urgent business.

"What is it?" Yuanhui asked, though from his expression, he seemed to know already.

"A visitor wishes to see the Temple Master," the Young Novice Monk said, then added, "It's that troublesome visitor from last time."

Yuanhui nodded and turned to Chen Cuo apologetically. "If my lord is interested, you may stay a few more days and we can discuss this at length. For now, I must attend to temple business. Please excuse me."

Since Yuanhui had business to attend to, Chen Cuo could not keep him. He rose to see him out.

Once Yuanhui had gone, Chen Cuo looked at the Ink Crane and weighed what he had heard.

The Ink Crane is this dangerous, yet Daoist Zhou didn't mention a word of it in the note he gave me? Did he think I couldn't possibly use it in a dream? Was he in too much of a hurry to explain? Or did even he not know?

He suddenly began to worry. Had Daoist Zhou really gone to seek help, or had he run away?

Elsewhere.

After leaving the Secluded Courtyard, Temple Master Yuanhui soon met up with the elderly Presiding Monk.

"How was it?" the old monk asked.

Yuanhui recounted what had happened that day. "He must be reincarnated. I had a feeling just now and deliberately brought up leaving the body in a dream. Although a mist surrounds my lord and makes his thoughts difficult to perceive, judging by his reaction, he has done it before. If he were not reincarnated, even if his Wandering Soul escaped being torn apart, he would inevitably contract the Heart Plague. Yet his spirit is clear and vigorous, his mind pure. He must possess an innate Primordial Spirit!"

The old monk nodded. "The visitor from Kunlun is waiting in the front courtyard. If he learns there is a true immortal from Beyond the Mundane in our temple, there will be more trouble."

Yuanhui set off. "It will be fine. Qiuyuzi does not want any further complications either. As long as we say nothing, nothing will happen."

The two monks walked side by side. Suddenly, someone came sprinting toward them. On seeing them, he stopped to bow, then hurried past.

The old monk shook his head lightly and stopped.

The man was Chen Hai. Holding a page of writing, he headed straight for the Secluded Courtyard where Chen Cuo was staying.

"My lord, something terrible has happened! A petty villain is slandering you!"

Chen Cuo had been lost in thought. He looked up and saw Chen Hai holding out an article.

"Let me see it." Chen Cuo took it, and his brow furrowed as he read.

The article began:

"The Painted Skin is a jumble from start to finish. Its talk of ghosts and monsters is laughably absurd—a load of utter rubbish!"

Chen Cuo looked away without reading further and raised his head. "Who wrote this? And where did you get it?"

"The author is Lu Le of the Lu Household. The article came from outside the temple," Chen Hai said, then briefly explained, "I was passing the houses at the foot of the mountain when I heard someone mention The Painted Skin. I went over and listened for a while, and that's how I learned about it. Someone happened to have copied the article, so I asked for it to show you!"

Chen Cuo nodded. Then something stirred in his mind, and he looked down at the article again. The sight before him suddenly changed. The words on the page began to float up, forming a ghostly face that lunged straight at him!

In an instant, a vicious intent erupted!

"What vicious Evil Thought!"

With danger springing up at his elbow, Chen Cuo did not panic. He immediately visualized the Ghost-Faced Mask and drew in a great, sharp breath!