Talent progress

Qu Zan asked quietly, "Senior brother, how do you think the medicine monks worked out such precise details of development?"

Doje had never looked into it before and answered offhandedly, "How would I know? They must have seen it with their own eyes."

"Yes, but how could they see it so clearly?"

"Unless... they cut open the belly." Doje seemed to understand in an instant, and a chill rose at the back of his head.

There were no X-rays in this world. To produce a picture like this, they could only have cut open bellies countless times and examined pregnant women's bodies with their own eyes.

How many of those pregnant women had been corpses, and how many had been alive?

Doje suddenly gagged, his stomach churning as he wanted to throw up.

That was the horror of Mìdì: on the surface, the breeze was gentle and the sun was bright, but a closer look made your hair stand on end and chilled you to the bone.

He backed away two steps and turned to put plenty of distance between himself and the thangka.

The two kept their heads down and polished Buddha statues for half the day. Only after a long while did Doje say, "Junior brother, this is all your fault. I'll never be able to look that thangka in the eye again."

"No need to thank me. I just gave your spiritual sight a little boost." Qu Zan played with the meme in his mind.

More than halfway through their work, they passed a secluded side hall.

Several monks lay on beds inside, with medicine monks kneading and massaging them.

The monks on the beds were all tall and powerfully built, with knotted muscles and intricate tattoos covering their bodies. They were the very monk soldiers Qu Zan had seen outside earlier.

"Junior brother, warrior monks!" Doje whispered. "Warrior monks are terrifyingly strong. They can lift stones weighing over a thousand jin. Becoming a warrior monk is one of my two great ambitions in life."

Qu Zan looked at Doje's round figure, 160 centimeters tall and 160 jin in weight, and casually asked, "What's the other ambition, then?"

Doje glanced around, confirmed that no one was nearby, then leaned closer and whispered, "Practicing the Wisdom Consort Method, of course."

"You really dare to dream. Only high-ranking Lamas are qualified to actually practice with wisdom consorts. How could that ever be within our reach?" Qu Zan said, shaking his head.

Unconvinced, Doje curled his lip. "There aren't that many taboos and rules! The abbot of the little temple in our Gebu Village practices abstinence with young girls every day."

"How does he practice that?"

"He eats, sleeps, and bathes with more than a dozen young girls over long periods to train his self-control. He practices abstinence several times a day. I hear quite a few of those girls have gotten pregnant."

Practices abstinence several times a day! Why does that sound so awkward? Is he as holy as a Buddha afterward?

"Does your village abbot happen to have the surname Gan?" Qu Zan was left speechless by what he heard.

"No, he doesn't."

Their day of labor slipped quietly by amid banter and the polishing of Buddha statues.

With Doje, that little veteran slacker, showing him the ropes, the entire day's work was quite easy, leaving him with no sense of fatigue. When evening lessons came, Qu Zan went to the Sutra Lecture Hall again to study the esoteric script.

Over the next few days, Qu Zan's life was regular and full: he worked during the day, and although the hard labor was tiring, it truly exercised his body. His physique stat quietly rose by around 0.1.

At night, he devoted himself to studying scriptures and learning to read, and his consciousness also improved.

[Name: Qu Zan]

[Physique: 2.1]

[Consciousness: 1.9]

[Available points: 0]

[Talents:

Extensive Learning lv1 progress 97%

Patience lv1 progress 32%]

Learning the esoteric script was far more difficult than learning foreign languages had been in his previous life. It was obscure, awkward on the tongue, and laden with complicated rules.

Yet he did not find it dry or tedious in the slightest, because the progress of his [Extensive Learning] talent gave him considerable help.

In turn, studying knowledge diligently also advanced the growth of his Much-Hearing Talent.

This positive cycle, this visible measure of growth, gave him tremendous encouragement and confidence.

[Extensive Learning] lv1, progress 97%

Days of studying the script have made this Extensive Learning talent progress very quickly.

During class that day, a wealthy merchant's son dressed in luxurious blue silk raised his hand to ask a question, his tone carrying a measure of doubt:

"Huo De Lama, is the esoteric script you're teaching us real?"

The boy was named Boren. His father controlled a horse caravan and traded salt year-round. His family was well-off and wielded considerable local influence.

Had an ordinary novice or Zhaba been so disrespectful, the Lama would certainly have reprimanded him, but there was the boy's wealthy merchant father to consider.

Huo De Lama gave an amiable smile. "Boren, the esoteric script I teach you is naturally real!"

Boren asked in puzzlement, "I have a ritual implement at home. I chanted the activation script on it in order, so why didn't anything happen?"

Huo De Lama smiled. "Boren, that is because your wisdom is too shallow.

"For practitioners, wisdom is power."

"Mantras do not take effect simply because you chant them. Ordinary serfs can chant them too. Does that mean they can produce effects?

"You have yet to learn the Treatise on Taking Refuge, the Praise of Bodhicitta, or the Method of Special Script... You have not even touched upon the stages of cultivation, so naturally you cannot activate a ritual implement.

"Moreover, Boren, let me warn you: do not casually chant esoteric script to activate ritual implements. You could invite calamity."

As soon as he finished speaking, Huo De Lama's expression turned stern. "All right. Today, we will have a spot check on reciting the Praise to the Thirty-Six Taras."

At the mention of a recitation spot check, everyone, who had been like curious children just a moment earlier, wilted like frost-stricken eggplants. They were too frightened even to raise their heads.

Doje ducked his head all the more desperately, wishing he could shrink into invisibility and escape being called on.

"Boren, you recite!" Huo De Lama called on the wealthy merchant's son first.

Boren hurriedly stood and began reciting. "Om Jetsunma Phagma Drolma la chagtsal lo..."

He delivered the opening homage, the core heart mantra, and the first verse of praise in one go.

Huo De Lama said, "Not a word wrong, but the fluency was somewhat lacking. Your syllables were squeezed together, you clipped sounds and swallowed words, and your breathing was disordered. With your level of mantra recitation, you merely skim the surface. It will be difficult to produce true power."

Boren's cheeks instantly flushed scarlet. The Praise to the Thirty-Six Taras was a tongue-twister to begin with, and they had only been taught it a few days ago. After practicing at home, he had thought he was doing extremely well. He had not expected his performance to remain riddled with flaws.

Huo De Lama swept his gaze across the classroom. Everyone was too frightened even to lift their heads, much less meet his eyes.

"Dunzhu, you recite!" Huo De Lama chose another.

The boy named Dunzhu stood up and recited haltingly.

Boren even heard the fellow mix up the lines.

He had clearly skipped a line as well. Before he had finished the first praise, the Lama told him to sit down.

Seeing a peer perform worse than himself, Boren's scarlet face relaxed a little, and he could not help giving a soft snort.

His own lack of success was certainly a pity, but a companion's failure could add a little luster to him instead.

"I tell you to study hard every day, but not one of you memorizes anything. Once I test you, none of you can pass. Apart from Boren, who at least made a decent showing..."

"You!"

Huode pointed at Doje, who shuddered like a New Year's pig singled out for slaughter.

He stood up and worked his mouth for ages. "Oh..."

"Oh, oh-what are you oh-ing about? Recite! Hopeless!"

Huo De Lama was beginning to lose face.

Boren's head rose involuntarily. I'm simply a genius. I might even be a reincarnated sacred child.

Everyone turned and saw the fat monk in the corner, his face flushed scarlet. Looks of gloating appeared on their faces.

"A monk who cannot recite scripture as well as a layperson-if word of this gets out, Corpse Camel Temple will lose all face. It might even affect my career..."

Huode was already regretting calling on the little fatty.

Huode cleared his throat. "You give it a try..." He pointed at the young monk beside the little fatty.