"Head back to the village first, and don't wander off," Wei Yuan instructed the girl.
"What about you?"
"I'm going up the mountain to take a look. I'll be right back."
Pouting, the girl said huffily, "You just think I'm a burden!"
Wei Yuan said nothing, letting his silence serve as an admission. But the girl's stubborn streak flared, and no matter what he said, she refused to budge. Helpless, Wei Yuan unfastened the rope tied behind his waist and walked toward her.
"What are you doing?!" The girl gasped halfway through before clapping a hand over her own mouth.
Wei Yuan acted without hesitation, tightly binding down the cumbersome fullness of her chest with the rope. "There, that'll do," he said. "We have to run fast and get back before breakfast."
The two sprinted along the mountain path toward the back mountain. This time, their run was indeed much smoother. Along the way were quite a few traps set by the hunter, but fortunately they all bore conspicuous markings, keeping the two from stumbling into any.
"Why are you going to the back mountain?" the girl asked, out of breath.
"It's high up there. I want to check the surrounding terrain."
"Haven't we been looking at it for over ten years? What's there to see?"
Wei Yuan knew he had indeed looked at it for over a decade and should be thoroughly familiar with the village's surroundings. Yet for some reason, he simply could not put his mind at ease; he had to see it with his own eyes. In the past, before every major battle, he would always survey the terrain in person.
A major battle? Wei Yuan felt as if that concept were an innate part of him, even though there had never been war in the village.
Along the way, Wei Yuan ignored the girl's struggling and protests. Since she had insisted on coming, she had to see it through to the end. Whenever she threw a tantrum and refused to walk, Wei Yuan simply picked her up and carried her along. After carrying her by hand for a while and finding it awkward, he hauled her directly onto his shoulder. Now he could finally sprint in great strides.
Furious, the girl squirmed and thrashed nonstop. Growing impatient, Wei Yuan gave her bottom a firm smack, instantly quieting her down.
With a single-minded focus, all Wei Yuan wanted was to inspect the terrain. He felt his thoughts were inexplicably simple—that of a naive farm boy, just as he had been before turning three.
Without the girl slowing him down, Wei Yuan moved much faster, racing all the way to the summit of the back mountain.
The summit was an expanse of relatively flat rock. From here, one could see the peak on the opposite side. The two peaks were separated by mere tens of zhang, so close that it felt as though one could leap across in a single bound.
Yet right before Wei Yuan's feet lay a sheer cliff. He leaned forward and peered down; it was bottomless, with thick mist billowing across the floor below, concealing whatever lay underneath.
The sun had risen completely into the sky. It was massive and a dark red, smearing the entire world in the hues of a dying twilight sun. The mountain peaks were all stained red, but in the valleys and crevices where sunlight could not reach, pitch-black shadows hid everything from view.
Standing atop the mountain, one could clearly see the village. It was not large, built on a mountainside slope. On its other side lay a plain cleared into a few farm fields. Farther out stood a forest from which dense mist arose, obscuring anything beyond.
Wei Yuan gauged the distance. Even from this high vantage on a clear day, he could see only a hundred li out. Beyond a hundred li, everything was engulfed in mist, making it impossible to tell what lay behind it.
By now, cooking smoke had begun to rise across the village.
"We should head back," the girl said. "We'll get scolded if we miss breakfast."
"All right." Just as Wei Yuan prepared to head down, he suddenly saw an enormous gate emerge in the sky overhead!
The gate was entirely black, marked with mysterious symbols, and so massive that it seemed to bridge heaven and earth. At the moment, its doors were shut tight, making it impossible to see what lay behind them.
Stunned, Wei Yuan pointed up at the gate and asked, "There's a gate up there in the sky. Do you see it?"
The girl looked in the direction he was pointing and said, "The Master said that is the gate leading to Pure Land Spirit Mountain. Anyone who worships the Buddha with a devout heart can see it. But why has the gate changed color today? And it's closed, too."
"What does it usually look like?" Wei Yuan asked.
The girl looked at him quizzically. "Couldn't you see it before? No wonder the Master always says someone in the village isn't devout enough and can't take the Dharma to heart—so he was talking about you all along!"
However, she had no intention of exposing Wei Yuan. She added, "In the past, that gate was golden and always stood open, filled with seven-colored lapis lazuli light. Keep it in mind, and don't let it slip if the Master asks."
"The Master is most compassionate; he won't punish me." Wei Yuan had no idea why he said such a thing.
"But the village chief will. His beatings really hurt."
The two descended the mountain, returned to the village, and parted for their own homes. When Wei Yuan entered his house, his foster father had already finished eating, having left breakfast on the table. It consisted of watery porridge, half a steamed bun, and a stalk of pickled vegetable. This was already considered lavish; his foster father had probably only had a bowl of thin gruel.
His foster father said, "Eat quickly. Once you're done, you still have work in the fields."
Wei Yuan wolfed down the food in no time, but truth be told, he felt it hadn't even filled a tenth of his stomach. A rare pang of hunger racked his body, making him glance instinctively toward a strip of cured meat hanging from the kitchen rafter.
His foster father rapped Wei Yuan hard across the head and snapped, "What are you thinking? That meat is meant as an offering to the Buddha—you dare covet even that?"
Only then did Wei Yuan recall that in the village, most good food—like cured meat and eggs—was offered to the temple to pray for the Buddha's blessing. The more one offered, the greater one's piety. All the offerings went in and never came out, as if the Buddha truly ate them.
It was only when they grew older that the girl had whispered to Wei Yuan one day that she had seen the Master eating the offerings.
Yet there was no proof of this, and the Master had always treated everyone well, so the muddle-headed Wei Yuan of that time had soon put it out of his mind.
Right after breakfast, a clamor suddenly erupted outside. A woman wailed in a tearful voice, "Why is the gate to the Pure Land closed?! Which god-damned bastard brought this curse upon us?!"
Hearing this, his foster father rushed to the window, and his complexion instantly changed.
More and more villagers gathered, all looking up into the sky. That grand gate and that radiant lapis lazuli light were the driving force behind everyone's Buddhist devotion, the repository of all their hopes. The karmic blessings of their next life had been right before their eyes, yet now the gate was abruptly shut.
"Let's go ask the Master at the temple," someone suggested, and many chimed in agreement.
And so, the entire village congregated outside the small temple.
The young Master stepped out of the temple and looked upon the gathered crowd. For some reason, Wei Yuan saw a peculiar compassion on his face, mingled with an air of grim resolve. A faint glow emanated from the Master's body, making him resemble an eminent monk who had attained the ultimate fruit of cultivation.
At this moment, the light from within the temple grew somewhat dazzling. Wei Yuan looked up and saw golden rays descending swiftly through the sky. A faint unease stirred in his heart.
The Master sighed and said, "When there is clearly enough to fill one's belly, why give rise to greed anew and recklessly break the precept against killing?"
Following the Master's gaze, Wei Yuan saw the hunter. The man still carried his hunting pitchfork over his shoulder, and impaled upon it was still that white wolf, dripping with fresh blood.
Wei Yuan found nothing odd in this. In the past, whenever Uncle Sankui bagged rare game, he would often lose his way, pacing back and forth through the village until noon before managing to find his own front door.
Seeing the Master looking at him, Sankui was completely unconcerned. He tossed the white wolf onto the open ground before the temple and declared self-righteously, "This beast injured several villagers and plenty of livestock. If I didn't kill it, was I supposed to let it keep terrorizing our village?"
With two thuds, he threw down a badger and a plump hare. "These two were the ones meant for meat. If the Master thinks I've sinned, then take them as offerings. But I did nothing wrong!"
Sankui delivered those last words with ringing certainty.
The Master chanted a Buddhist invocation and sighed, "You did nothing wrong, nor did I. None of us did anything wrong..."
His words were abruptly cut short by a crash of thunder. From within the clouds echoed an earth-shattering roar:
"Who killed our Great King's only son?!"
Beneath the blood-red sunlight, the three carcasses on the temple grounds suddenly transformed into human bodies.
Chapter 262