Thangka

Seeing the astonishment and bewilderment written all over Doje's face, Qu Zan asked softly, "What's wrong, junior brother?"

Doje let out a quiet sigh, a trace of gloom between his brows, and said in a low voice:

"It just feels like something's blocking up my chest. Someone else spent more in a single night than we could earn in our entire lives."

"Do you feel the world is unfair?" Qu Zan sighed faintly.

"My father said there's no such thing as fair or unfair in this world. The circumstances of our birth in this life, whether we're rich or poor... it's all determined by our cultivation in our past lives."

Qu Zan had long since heard such claims from the locals.

In this isolated, barren land of Mìdì, those at the bottom spent their whole lives in hardship and toil, doing filthy work, suffering beatings, abuse, and discrimination...

Everyone said that this lifetime of hardship and toil was the price of committing evil and taking lives in a previous existence.

The people at the bottom here firmly believed that only by silently enduring life's hardships could they accumulate blessings and gain smooth, peaceful circumstances in a future life.

To outsiders, such thinking might seem ignorant and narrow-minded, even tinged with an obsession with comforting oneself.

The younger Qu Zan of the past would certainly have scoffed at it.

But living on this land, having witnessed countless impoverished people struggling, he had come to understand their helplessness.

Life was already filled with suffering, weathered by wind and frost at every turn. Clinging to this vague, elusive hope gave people a little respite through the unbearable years.

Qu Zan suppressed the emotions surging in his heart and shed his excess sentimentality. Only by constantly striving forward, with the panel's help, could he rewrite his life.

"Madam Yangjin is here!" Doje's voice pulled Qu Zan from his thoughts.

Surrounded by a crowd, a lavishly dressed woman approached at an unhurried pace.

She was tall and straight-backed. Having never needed to labor over the years, her skin was fair, soft, fine, and smooth, her figure full and well-proportioned, her bearing graceful.

An exquisite triangular pearl crown glittered atop her head. Rare jewels of every kind-coral, turquoise, giant clam shell, agate-adorned her body in layer upon layer of flowing brilliance.

Paired with her splendid silk garments, the dazzling display was more than the eye could take in.

Doje said, "My heavens, she must be wearing a dozen or more jin of gemstones!"

Madam Yangjin walked up to the master presiding over the consecration.

With a dignified expression, she smiled and bowed. "The auspicious day and hour have arrived. I humbly ask the Lama to compassionately preside over the consecration of this thangka. I am deeply grateful..."

With that, she pressed her palms together and bowed slightly, then took her seat with composed, poised grace.

At Madam Yangjin's signal, the High Monk led the other monks in chanting solemn scriptures in unison.

The melodious chanting echoed through the courtyard, and a solemn atmosphere enveloped everyone present.

Once the chanting ended, the Lama ascended the raised platform, solemnly opened the exquisite gilded box, and slowly unfurled the thangka treasured within.

The instant the thin thangka was spread open, Doje stiffened. A chill suddenly rose in his heart, and his scalp prickled faintly.

For the material of that thangka was no ordinary fabric-it was, shockingly, an entire eerie thangka.

Although Qu Zan had already heard of such human-skin thangkas, seeing one with his own eyes still sent a chill through him, raising fine goosebumps all over his body.

This eerie thangka had been tanned, leaving it thin yet tough, with a dull, withered yellow-brown base color. Its edges retained their natural creases and tiny pores...

When it was fully unfurled, Qu Zan felt an instinctive nausea, followed by a wave of fear and discomfort.

A gust of wind passed, gently stirring the thangka's corners, as though this eerie object were mimicking breathing.

This thangka had clearly been handed down for a long time. It was an antique, bearing the darkened hues left by the passage of years.

It had been painted using ancient methods, with natural minerals combined with gold dust and other materials to create a magnificent religious painting.

Looking from afar, Qu Zan saw the Sunlight Yidam in the center of the human-skin thangka, its divine form solemn and majestic, gilded patterns of sunlight blooming around it in layer upon layer.

The Yidam held a sun disc in one hand and formed the enrichment mudra with the other, seated upright upon a seven-colored sun-and-moon lotus throne, sacred and solemn.

But thinking of the material used to make this thangka, Qu Zan guessed that this Sunlight Yidam must be a Vengeful Ghost.

Twelve guardian heavenly maidens surrounded the Yidam, each in a different pose, graceful and lively, their robes fluttering, lifelike in every detail.

In the blank spaces of the painting, esoteric texts had been handwritten in cinnabar: the Sunlight Heart Mantra, the Hundred-Syllable Mantra, the Earth-Protection Mantra...

The High Monk chanted scriptures toward the thangka once more, and the other monks joined in unison. Suona horns sounded melodiously, bronze cymbals rang crisply, and ritual drums beat steadily... surrounded by this solemn ritual music and burning incense, the eerie human-skin thangka seemed all the more hair-raising.

Restless by nature, Doje had long since grown weary of the solemn, protracted ceremony. Constrained by the solemn atmosphere, he could only force down his yawns and hold himself upright.

Then the presiding High Monk slowly circled the thangka, performing the blessing ritual.

In an instant, everyone vaguely sensed spiritual radiance flowing across the thangka, and an imposing aura rippled outward.

Qu Zan kept his attention fixed on the eerie thangka, his gaze settling on the poses and lines of the twelve guardian heavenly maidens.

Suddenly, a notification appeared on his panel:

[You devoted yourself to contemplating the spiritual essence of an ancient thangka, gained sudden insight into the mysteries of its poses, and comprehended "Sun Salutation Twelve Forms."]

"?"

Qu Zan was utterly baffled. When had he been pondering so deeply?

In the blink of an eye, countless images and pieces of knowledge flowed into his mind.

Twelve clear human silhouettes appeared, corresponding to twelve sets of precise, mysterious movements, each matching the pose of one of the thangka's twelve guardian heavenly maidens perfectly.

"So this is where the thangka's true mystery lies!" Qu Zan's mind cleared, and he instantly grasped its secret.

Beside him, Doje saw his junior brother gazing at those beautiful guardians. He, too, stared in a trance, then spoke in a low voice:

"Junior brother, look at those guardian heavenly maidens. At first, I just thought their figures were graceful and beautiful. Look at the starry gauze robes they're wearing..."

"What about them?" Qu Zan glanced sideways. Had Doje also perceived the thangka's mysteries?

Doje stood rooted to the spot, his eyes wide as he scrutinized it intently.

His expression gradually turned strange, his cheeks flushed faintly, and his eyes held a trace of dazed infatuation.

Qu Zan hurried a step forward, discreetly shielding Doje in the corner to hide his unusual expression and prevent those around them from noticing anything amiss.

By now, Doje was already deeply trapped in an illusion.

In his eyes, every motionless guardian heavenly maiden on the thangka had come alive.

The beauties' expressions were lively, their smiles enchanting.

The women smiled seductively at him, gesturing and pointing, some beckoning with slender, scallion-white fingers, others swaying their waists to tempt him, their poses alluring and utterly bewitching...

A moment later, Doje abruptly turned back, as though waking from a great dream. His face went deathly pale, his legs weakened, and his body swayed slightly, as though he had just endured a bout of draining struggle.

He hurriedly looked around to make sure no one had noticed. Only then did Doje lower his voice, speaking with three parts lingering fright and seven parts delight:

"Junior brother, something's wrong with that thangka. There's something strange about it!"

"What happened?" Qu Zan pressed in a low voice.

"I can't read, and I just felt that Yidam was too imposing and frightening, so I stared at the guardian heavenly maidens around it instead. As I kept looking, I realized... all their gauze robes and ornaments had vanished, and they came rushing at me..."

"What?" Hearing this, Qu Zan could not quite decide whether to laugh or cry.