Sutra of the Lion's Roar

As the ritual horns sounded.

The lower-ranking Scholar Monks and Attendant Monks began chanting sutras. Such chanting could run to a thousand lines at a time, and anyone who lost the rhythm would be judged to have failed.

They also had to maintain the correct pitch throughout, without the slightest error in phrasing or pauses.

The chant leaders and High Monks on the raised platform paid particular attention.

With his talent bolstering him, Qu Zan chanted at an unhurried pace, his rising and falling tones in harmony, his voice carrying straight ahead.

Lamas stationed around them kept records and marked each monk individually.

At a Dharma Assembly like this, the slightest pause or stumble in chanting meant immediate failure.

Among the hundreds of participating Scholar Monks and Attendant Monks, many withdrew dejectedly after a moment's carelessness.

Qu Zan sat cross-legged, patient and motionless, as the scripture flowed slowly through the field of his heart.

He secretly kindled his Tummo, raising spiritual warmth within his body so that he felt not the slightest chill.

Once the opening chanting ended, the scripture recitation assessment began.

Ordinary Attendant Monks and Scholar Monks recited basic verses. The outstanding ones could recite the entire Sutra of the Excellent Lion's Roar and Treatise on Weighing the Twenty Actions, without stumbling, omissions, or prompting.

The recitation took place in several separate areas. Each Scholar Monk walked into the center of his area and, under the gaze of dozens or even a hundred people, still had to bow calmly and maintain the rhythm of his recitation.

Qu Zan was in the same area as Jiumo, the monk with sword-like brows.

Jiumo began reciting.

He sat in the full lotus position, steady as a stone block, his spine straight from his tailbone upward. As he recited, his body showed no rise or fall; only his lower abdomen contracted and expanded evenly with the scripture's rhythm.

The others strained their throats to project their voices, their breath floating in their chests. His strength alone sank into his dantian, without haste or disorder.

The other Scholar Monks hunched their necks against the cold as they drew breath, but Jiumo remained steady throughout. His naturally composed bearing drew the attention of a scripture master on the distant platform.

This fellow must have studied the Yoga Method! Qu Zan thought. He's pushing the competition too far, learning so much. Luckily, I've studied it too. Otherwise-otherwise, I'd lose to him in bearing today.

When the scripture master called Qu Zan's Dharma name.

Qu Zan rose to his full height and walked toward the prayer cushion in the center.

He quieted his mind and gathered his breath, feeling his feet upon the earth, focusing only on this very moment. This was what was called walking meditation.

He walked upon the ground like a lion walking through its own territorial kingdom.

Over a hundred pairs of eyes around him watched him, but he regarded them as nothing more than grass and trees.

He sat cross-legged. From the opening through the eleven great vows and the ever-abiding Buddha-nature, he recited the entire text without a single moment of hesitation...

Every line of scripture was clear and weighty. When he reached the passage about shattering the misguided attachments of the Two Vehicles and the lion king proclaiming the Dharma, the breath in his dantian rose slowly. His voice abruptly broadened, powerful and resonant, like a lion's roar splitting a mountain valley, its majesty striking awe into the listeners...

When he reached the gentle verses about the purity inherent in all sentient beings, his breath gathered and sank, his voice warm, mellow, and sustained, its low notes wrapped in delicate resonance. Hardness and softness alike were controlled entirely through his abdominal breath...

The scripture master Huode had noticed him from afar long before. At first, he merely pricked up his ears to listen, then turned around to listen closely.

He noticed that several scripture masters nearby had turned around along with him.

One scripture master asked, "Who is this Scholar Monk? How can his recitation of the Sutra of the Excellent Lion's Roar be so masterful?"

"I don't know him." Another scripture master shook his head.

Huode said casually, "He's not bad. This young monk's Dharma name is Gyatso. I taught him the Sutra of the Excellent Lion's Roar..." As he spoke, the corners of his mouth could not help curving upward, only to flatten again at once.

"Oh, Gyatso. How did we never notice him before?"

"Huo De Lama, you taught him?" The scripture masters around him all expressed their surprise.

Qu Zan recited the scripture from beginning to end in one unbroken flow, giving tangible form to its teaching that "the Lion's Roar shatters all biased attachments." Simply hearing him, one understood what it meant for the voice of the Dharma to roar like a lion...

When he finished reciting, Qu Zan quietly bowed. The area suddenly fell silent, as though allowing that lion's roar to echo through it. Then someone-no one knew who-began to clap...

Thunderous applause erupted, mingled with murmurs of praise. Everyone there committed this Scholar Monk's name to memory.

"Gyatso!"

The first day of the Courtyard Competition Dharma Assembly ended.

The rankings were posted on a wooden board at the venue.

The Scholar Monks crowded around to look.

Huo De Lama checked the rankings and said, "First place is Gama, second is Dunzhu... Gyatso, you're third..."

Namkha blurted out, "How is that possible? Gyatso's performance was so astonishing. He should have been first for certain."

Huo De Lama said quietly, "It's already a good result. Gama, in first place, was sent here by a wealthy merchant from Purang Dzong. Dunzhu, in second place, is the Discipline Academy Abbot's nephew..."

Huode looked at Qu Zan and said, "Gyatso, you did very well. Truly, very well. Who could have imagined you would improve so quickly! You've put in so much effort. Don't be discouraged!"

Deeply moved, he patted Qu Zan's shoulder, feeling the sense of accomplishment a mother bird felt upon seeing her fledgling about to leave the nest.

"It's all right, Lama. I think third place is quite good too," Qu Zan said calmly. "Namkha, I saw that you placed ninth. That's impressive too!"

"I'm nowhere near you," Namkha said. "You really are a monster. You should prepare properly for tomorrow's Debate.

"That tests your quick thinking and verbal sharpness. It's a real clash of blades and spears in argument. You need to think of a good topic."

Huode agreed. "Exactly. I suspect they'll have you defend a Dzong tomorrow, with everyone taking turns questioning you. Several people will attack you at once, and the moment a gap appears, you'll lose. You need to come up with an unassailable thesis."

Qu Zan pondered for a moment, then expressed his agreement.

The next morning, the Debate began.

Although fewer people were competing today, more had come to watch. Not only the Sutra Academy, but the Warrior Monk Academy and the Secret Medical Institute had sent many spectators as well.

Doje had heard that the Sutra Academy's Debate was quite lively and that Qu Zan would be participating today, so he had come specifically to cheer on his junior brother.

"Gonbo, what brings you here too?" Doje spotted a one-eyed monk in the crowd. He was one of the fellow disciples who had survived Ghost-Fallen Guanyin alongside him back then.

Gonbo's missing eye was covered with cloth.

"Junior Brother Doje!" Gonbo was delighted to see his junior brother after such a long absence. "Have you come to watch the fun too? The Debate assembly is the Sutra Academy's most entertaining event!"

Doje asked curiously, "What's entertaining about it?"

Gonbo said in surprise, "Don't you know? Debate is one of the fiercest competitions in the monastery.

"In the past, there have been monks who grew so upset during Debate, with anger pent up inside them, that when they couldn't answer, they fainted from rage on the spot. Some even spat blood in their fury.

"There have also been Debates where both sides grew so angry that they came to blows."

"Ah!" Doje listened in astonishment, then revealed an expression of gloating delight. "Heh heh, looks like we'll get to see rivers of blood today!"

Gonbo said, "Don't get so excited. Isn't Junior Brother Gyatso taking part in today's Debate too?"

"It's fine. That brat Gyatso is a slippery one. He won't get the short end of the stick. Anyone who runs into him will be the one to suffer." Doje was utterly unconcerned.

Gonbo shook his head. "Not necessarily. A contest like this isn't necessarily decided within the arena! Plenty of things outside it have an influence too!"

"What do you mean?" Doje froze.

On the raised platform on the second floor, the Sutra Academy's steward, School Monitor, and Sutra Recitation Leader sat cross-legged on prayer cushions. They were presiding over this Courtyard Competition Dharma Assembly.

The Sutra Academy Abbot sat farther within, cross-legged behind a curtain, shrouded in shadow.

For some reason, the red monastic robe on the Sutra Academy Abbot looked as though it had been dyed with blood, its crimson particularly vivid in the darkness.

His presence today left the steward and the others somewhat ill at ease.