The Sutra Academy Abbot

The scene before them was utterly comical: several monks had lifted their robes to block their view.

They looked like brides beneath bridal veils.

Thump!

The robe fabric before Qu Zan's eyes abruptly slapped him in the face.

For a moment, that piece of cloth seemed to have come alive.

I was the one the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin chose just now! Qu Zan's heart sank. Fortunately, he had not looked elsewhere, or he would have died a horrible death.

They ran swiftly, skirting either side of the side chamber where the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin stood.

They went around the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin's terrifying face.

"That went smoothly!"

"Wonderful, we survived!"

"We're out of danger! Buddha preserve us..." one monk said, choking up.

"Who said we're out of danger?" Qu Zan said coldly.

People's failures often lurked in the first light of victory; they thought that just because they could no longer see the Vengeful Ghost, its influence no longer existed!

Five hundred and fifty-two...

Qu Zan calmed himself and counted silently.

Tseten had disappeared for roughly fifty-six hundred counts. Even halving that still meant twenty-eight hundred counts.

"It hasn't even been a quarter of that!" Qu Zan said.

"Yes, yes, yes!" The other monks nodded hastily. "You're right to remind us, junior brother!"

"Junior brother, you're truly a good man. When I get back, I'll certainly pray for blessings for you before the Buddha!" one monk said.

Qu Zan helped the others, even speaking up to warn them, not out of kindness, but more out of calculation.

The Vengeful Ghost chose only one person each time. The more people remained alive, the lower his own chances of being chosen.

Eight hundred and thirty-seven...

One thousand...

Two thousand...

When Qu Zan reached three thousand, he recalled what had just happened.

With their vision obscured like this, they were no different from blind men walking, unable to see the way at all. In a place as complicated as the monastery, full of steps and walls, they could only feel their way forward like blind men.

The freakish memory granted to Qu Zan by his [Extensive Learning] talent allowed him to lead the way as though walking on level ground.

While crossing some steps, one monk's foot found empty air, and he tumbled down. There was no time for him to keep his eyes covered with the cloth.

"It's all right, it's all right..." the monk said. "My eyes are closed. I can't see anything..."

Does closing your eyes work? A thought stirred in Qu Zan's mind. With his eyes closed, he could see nothing, so there should be nowhere to fall.

The monk covered his eyes with his hands and murmured, "I can't see. I won't fall."

Aah!

The monk let out an agonized wail. His entire body seemed to be kneaded and squeezed by a pair of invisible hands, compressing him toward his head.

That horrific, bizarre sight made one's hair stand on end.

None of the others dared look at all.

A nauseating, rusty reek of blood filled the air.

Rinchen felt a shower of rain soak his back.

The bodily fluids and blood squeezed from the monk splattered everywhere.

They now arrived at another rule:

"Closing your eyes means darkness. If you fall into darkness, death is certain!"

Thank goodness we chose to block our sight with our robes, Qu Zan suddenly thought. If night falls and it's so dark you can't see your own hand...

That would be a certain-death situation!

Qu Zan calculated the time. They had been walking for well over two thousand counts, and in terms of straight-line distance, they had already traveled more than five li.

But no one dared relax now. They maintained their posture, still blocking their entire field of vision with their robes.

"What are you lot doing?" A nearby Attendant Monk suddenly spotted their comical appearance and asked, half amused.

As though blessed with rain after a drought, they all spoke at once. "Hurry and report to the monastery! A Vengeful Ghost is at work! Hurry and report it!"

"Several people have already died!"

"What Vengeful Ghost? Utter nonsense!" The Attendant Monk did not believe them.

Rinchen said angrily, "I am Rinchen, keeper of the Ancient Empty Courtyard and a Scholar Monk of the Sutra Academy. Go report to the Sutra Academy Abbot right now that a Vengeful Ghost is at work in the Ancient Empty Courtyard. If you waste any time, you can wait to be flayed and have your bones torn apart!"

Rinchen's fierce front, masking his inner weakness, left the Attendant Monk bewildered and terrified. He immediately turned to report it.

They kept walking with their robes obscuring their sight. Whenever they encountered other monks, they shouted warnings.

One monk said, "Junior Brother Gyatso, we should be outside the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin's range of influence by now, shouldn't we?"

"We should be!" Qu Zan said.

"Then let's lower our robes," one monk said.

Everyone fell silent.

Qu Zan did not lower his either. If there was no danger at present, it was better not to rashly change what he was doing.

After a while, a middle-aged man's voice reached them.

"You encountered the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin?" The man's voice was hoarse.

"Yes!" Rinchen said. "Lord Abbot, it's in a side chamber of the Ancient Empty Courtyard. Three junior brothers have died."

"All right, lower your robes. You're already beyond the Ghost-Fallen Guanyin's influence."

Only then did they lower their robes.

Qu Zan saw a middle-aged monk dressed in dark red robes, with short hair on his head. His gaunt, deathly gray face was expressionless, and he held a string of exceptionally smooth, lustrous prayer beads.

Each bead was a flattened sphere, and they varied in size. Eroded by the years, the beads had already changed color.

As Qu Zan gazed at the prayer beads, a chill involuntarily rose along his spine.

Those were Human-Bone Prayer Beads.

In Mìdì, many ritual implements were made from human bones. Human bone was more spiritually exalted than ordinary materials.

"Greetings, Abbot Lama!" Rinchen pressed his palms together and bowed respectfully.

The other menials followed, pressing their palms together in greeting.

He's the Sutra Academy Abbot?! A thought stirred in Qu Zan's mind.

The man was expressionless, his face deathly gray and his eyes lifeless, like two abysses.

The middle-aged monk swept his gaze over them, a hint of a smile escaping the corners of his mouth. "For you few to escape a Vengeful Ghost is indeed commendable. You reported it before the Vengeful Ghost fully revived. You deserve a reward."

Although he smiled, his voice was gloomy, chilling those who heard it.

Qu Zan and the others did not dare raise their heads.

Qu Zan looked at the hem of the middle-aged monk's robes. It was writhing, as though alive.

Suddenly, he saw pairs of gray hands reach out from beneath the monk's robes.

Those were certainly not living people's hands. They were unmistakably pairs of dead people's hands, moving slowly.

Frightened by that eerie sight, Qu Zan instantly went cold all over.

That wasn't an illusion. He must wield the power of a Vengeful Ghost! I just don't know what kind of ghost or deity it is, or what abilities it possesses.

When he came to his senses and looked closely again at the abbot, he saw no dead people's hands. It was as though his eyes had played a trick on him.

"Abbot Lama," Qu Zan said, "this humble monk saw Scripture hanging from that Vengeful Ghost, bearing the words 'Ghost-Fallen Guanyin'! Is that the Vengeful Ghost's name?"

The Sutra Academy Abbot turned his head and said, "Yes. What else did you discover?"