Shaktism

Qu Zan and his two companions pushed open the wooden door and entered the antique shop.

The shop was spacious, with all kinds of ancient objects piled in layers along the walls, on wooden racks, and in hanging cabinets. Old Thangkas covered the walls and wooden beams, while statues of various sizes stood in a row along the counters.

The shopkeeper was an old man with snow-white hair.

Inside the antique shop, the white-haired shopkeeper was arguing with a man.

The man had dark skin and waist-length dreadlocks. He had smeared white ash over his body, marked a red circle between his brows, and wore skull ornaments around his neck. A Linga symbol hung against his chest.

The Linga stood erect, with a Yoni as its base. The Yoni was an image of the other organ, symbolizing the eternal union of yin and yang.

The corners of Qu Zan's mouth twitched at the sight. Mìdì had so many extraordinary characters; they could actually walk around wearing symbols like that.

"My Tila medicinal oil has tremendous effects. It enhances sensation and soothes the flesh. Your Lamas will like it," the dreadlocked man said loudly.

"This is an antique shop. I don't buy medicines like that," the white-haired shopkeeper refused.

"Fool! You don't know quality when you see it!" Red-faced with anger, the dreadlocked man tucked the medicinal oil into his clothes, turned, and left.

As the dreadlocked man passed them, they caught the strange, unsettling odor coming from his body.

Tuya wrinkled her delicate nose and glanced at him.

The dreadlocked man smiled and said, "Beautiful young lady, I come from the south. You need this Tila medicinal oil to win the love of your beloved..."

Not understanding, Tuya asked blankly, "Does it taste good?"

The dreadlocked man froze. No one had ever asked him such a food-obsessed question before.

"That isn't something decent people consume," Namkha said in disgust. "We don't need it. Hurry up and leave!" With a grave expression, he stepped in front of his older sister and addressed the dreadlocked man.

The dreadlocked man glanced at Namkha without interest, muttered something, and walked out.

"That fellow didn't smell right," Qu Zan said.

"He smeared cremation ashes all over himself. How could he smell right?" the white-haired shopkeeper said.

The corners of Qu Zan's mouth twitched. So that white powder had been cremation ashes.

"Those Shaktism followers from the south," the white-haired shopkeeper muttered.

Shaktism-the name alone sounded decidedly strange.

"Aren't they ascetics?" Namkha asked.

"They call themselves practitioners, but they worship a goddess," the white-haired shopkeeper said. "That goddess has countless names: goddess of love and desire, goddess of purity, goddess of great wisdom, goddess of fertility, goddess of flesh, goddess of ritual practice...

"They believe all things are born of the goddess's desire, so they worship through the unrestrained indulgence of desire.

"They believe all things are connected, and a man's Linga is the spiritual instrument that connects them..."

"...You should be careful. These Shaktism followers are no kindly souls. You'd best keep your distance," the white-haired shopkeeper warned.

Namkha looked astonished. "The monastery actually lets these people in? And does nothing about them?" he asked incredulously.

"For one thing, they haven't caused any calamities. For another, these fellows have won the favor of the provincial bigwigs above us..." the white-haired shopkeeper said.

"Their worship gatherings take place around an image of the goddess herself. First they drink wine, then eat meat, then fish, anticipating pleasure, and finally conclude with the pleasures of group debauchery. Together, these are called the Five-Makara Mantra. Their secret name for this kind of gathering is the Sacred Wheel."

Qu Zan inwardly clicked his tongue. Isn't that just an impart?

Compared with these fellows, even the Consort Wisdom Court counted as pure, holy maidens.

Qu Zan could not help marveling that when it came to competing over depravity, there was always a higher mountain beyond the last.

"...This kind of practice, indulging in lust and sensual pleasure, is much more enjoyable than chanting scriptures and sitting in meditation. The provincial bigwigs, along with many wealthy people and nobles, bear it no ill will."

Qu Zan, however, wondered whether these people possessed supernatural powers. In this land overrun with sinister spirits, this sect ought to possess some extraordinary power as well.

"What are you looking for?" the white-haired shopkeeper asked.

"Just browsing," Qu Zan said. He looked around, unobtrusively laying his hands on the objects as he searched for antiques rich in secret essence.

"Wow, this melon looks so real." Holding a lamb skewer in one hand, Tuya pointed with the other at a ceramic sculpture on a cabinet.

It was a lifelike tricolor ceramic melon, its plump, round body patterned in green and yellow. Even its curling stem retained the curve of freshness, and it had been fired as a single piece with its matching tray.

"Sister, you always spot food at first glance," Namkha said helplessly. "Miss, if you buy this and take it home, Madam might be displeased!"

Seeing that a wealthy young lady had taken a fancy to something, the shopkeeper immediately came over. "Miss, this is a watermelon brought from west of the Vast Sea. If you invite it into your home and use it as a fruit offering before the Buddha, it will surely bring boundless merit."

"If I saw that the food someone gave me was a fake I couldn't eat, I'd probably get angry," Tuya said.

Her words left the shopkeeper speechless.

The Vast Sea lay in the north. Legend spoke of a boundless sea of sand there, a vast wilderness of shifting sands with no end in sight. Cities and towers often rose into view there, only to vanish in an instant. The ruined walls of ancient kingdoms and monasteries lay buried deep beneath the sand.

Nearby, Qu Zan touched this and poked that, looking every bit like a curious child.

He unobtrusively touched a vajra bell.

At last, the panel gave him a notification:

[You have touched Fortune Essence. Absorb it?]

Qu Zan was inwardly delighted. There really was secret essence here.

He turned to touch other things. When his hand reached a vajra, the panel gave him another notification.

My luck's good today. I actually found two.

He wanted to keep looking, considering that the antiques here might be quite expensive.

He selected four antiques, brought them to the shopkeeper, and asked their prices.

The vajra bell and vajra were mixed in among them, keeping the shopkeeper from knowing which he truly wanted and making it easier to bargain.

"This one is twenty taels, that one ten, that one fifty, and that one thirty!"

The vajra cost ten taels, while the vajra bell cost thirty.

The steep prices made Qu Zan click his tongue.

"Shopkeeper, your prices are far too high," Namkha said. "We're Scholar Monks. Could you make them a little cheaper?"

The shopkeeper looked at the two of them. "If you buy them all, I'll give you thirty percent off."

Qu Zan shook his head. That was still too expensive.

"What if I only want this one?" Qu Zan asked, pointing at the vajra bell.

"Twenty taels. That's my lowest price," the shopkeeper said.

Qu Zan thought for a moment. "Fifteen taels for these three." He pointed at the vajra, the vajra bell, and the twenty-tael piece he had included as a decoy.

The shopkeeper immediately glared. "Why don't you just rob me!"

"Business is business. Antiques like these have a different price for every buyer," Qu Zan said.

The two sides crossed swords with their tongues through another round of bargaining.

Qu Zan secured the vajra and vajra bell for sixteen taels.

As the shopkeeper wrapped the two antiques, he said, "Young master, you really do have a good eye. These two antiques only just arrived. Both came from the Vast Sea."