In West River Village, by this point, Yi Shuyuan's "reading" of the letter had drawn an audience far beyond the old companions beside him.
The children who had been playing had gathered without realizing it to listen to the story. Even the village Land God sat listening by the straw shelter, with Hui Mian beside him, a snake held in his mouth.
Perhaps because Yi Shuyuan's voice had paused for a moment, interrupting some of the listeners' imaginings, one child asked a question.
"Grand Elder Yi, what does it mean to give them an awakening?" "Yes, why give those bad people anything?"
The elders all understood. Looking at these innocent children, Yi Shuyuan had no thought of shielding them from bloodshed and violence. For good people, punishing evil and upholding good was the simplest of wishes; what the elders could hear, the children could hear too.
"That great monk said his understanding of Buddhist teachings was shallow, so naturally he couldn't use them to make those bandits see their true selves and awaken. And with such shallow understanding, he naturally couldn't behold Buddha either. So what remained of those three paths to awakening he mentioned?"
As soon as Yi Shuyuan asked, a child rushed to answer.
"They could still behold purgatory and awaken!"
At those words, many of the children understood too. Most ordinary people, old or young, knew what purgatory meant. In any case, it was certainly in the Underworld.
Though some children remained a little confused, Yi Shuyuan needed to explain no further. Other children would explain a few things to their friends.
"So the monk said in his letter that he had broken his precepts."
"Brother, is there more?" "Yes, Brother Yi, those horse bandits really were beasts!"
The elderly cherished their fellow elders. Imagining the plight