My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 820 - 510: Baolian Temple (Double-Length)_2
"It’s nothing, just following the precepts and meditating," Ji Yuan smiled gently, "and eating vegetarian meals."
Xian De, not understanding, asked, "Eating vegetarian meals?"
Vegetarianism is a part of Buddhist precepts, and Ji Yuan mentioned it specifically, arousing curiosity.
But just as Xian De was about to ask more, Ji Yuan clasped his hands together and directly chanted, "Amitabha Buddha."
This must be Baolian Temple’s secret technique...
The night deepened, and the people from Lidu Temple were arranged to sleep in the side rooms.
Xian De also lay down without undressing.
But...
Pain, the kind that paralyzes the calf.
He suffered from rheumatic pain that flared up terribly during rainy weather, enough to be deadly.
A cold, damp air seeped through the door crack, spreading into every corner of the side room, and an odd, earthy scent wrinkled into the nostrils.
"Creak." Xian De pulled open the door, the sound of the hinge especially jarring in the night.
A cold wind slapped his face like a knife cutting through flesh, sending chills down his spine, and amidst the wind, the earthy scent seemed tinged with the smell of blood!
This Buddhist Jialan Treasure Land, with its thriving incense offerings, how could it be so... chilling?
An indescribable coldness spread through the air; Xian De’s monk robe trembled, and a faint moaning sound seemed to come from near his ears. Was it the wind through the window, or...
Was there someone buried in the ground?!
A chill ran through Xian De’s heart, but he quickly calmed himself and followed the faint moaning sound.
The surroundings were desolate, with crumbling stone walls, hard to imagine such a dilapidated scene in the otherwise splendid Baolian Temple. The moonlight was bone-chilling, casting shadows that swayed, and the more Xian De walked, the more his skin crawled.
His lips silently recited Buddhist scriptures.
Suddenly,
under the pitch-black night, the temple garden was sprawling with lush foliage, surrounded by silent statues of gods and buddhas, and in the soft, muddy land were planted eyes - lifeless human heads!
Xian De shivered, and his blood ran cold.
His lips tried to chant, "Namo Amitabha Buddha," but what came out was only, "Oh shit..."
The darkness closed in from all sides, the people buried deep in the earth unmoving, and the wind still carried faint moans, but more were silent in the ground, as if lifeless.
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and Xian De hurriedly turned around and rushed back the way he came.
Halfway down the path.
"Where is the Venerable going?"
Xian De stood frozen, the voice behind him old as dead wood.
"Are you seeking the way of practice in my temple? You see, there’s nothing more than precepts, meditation, and..."
All was silent, save for the gusting cold wind. Xian De turned trembling.
Ji Yuan grinned wide, baring his fangs,
"And eating vegetarian meals!"
...
Poof.
The sound of a hoe breaking the earth.
The heads of Xian De and the disciples of Lidu Temple were planted in the soil, blood spreading like roots within the land, relentlessly converging around the encircling statues.
The cracked skin seeped blood, severed limbs with bone and flesh pressed beneath the thin earth, with nails like fertilizer scattered across the garden.
High night wind blew, and the novice monks chuckled, as dozens of hoes cut silver arcs in the moonlight.
"Farmer weeds at noon, sweat drips onto the soil,"
"Who knows the meal in each dish comes from hard toil!"
...
Within the Great Hall.
Three statues illuminated by Buddha Light, their expressions tranquil, with Kasyapa holding half a palm-leaf manuscript and Venerable Anan holding a golden bowl, in a scene of utmost solemnity.
Ji Yuan, having wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, sat cross-legged on a cushion, palms together, twisting prayer beads, as if sensing something.
Suddenly, he abruptly opened his eyes, reached back, and a soul instantly shot from the edge of Baolian Temple a thousand miles away into the palm of his hand.
"Fan Kong?"
Ji Yuan’s face flickered with uncertainty; the quivering soul knelt in his palm, mumbling incoherently, and the old monk listened intently, eyebrows furrowing tightly.
"City God? Wa City... City God?!"
He pointed a virtual finger, invoking Soul Searching, his frown deepening, the wrinkles on his aged eyes sinister.
An inexplicable City God seemingly manifested out of thin air...
"What origin?"
Ji Yuan pressed his hands together, pondering while chanting scriptures, verses unending from his mouth.
After a long while,
as if enlightened, Ji Yuan’s face brightened gradually, and with a bloody word he uttered from his lips,
"Just kill it."
..................
..................
"Why, O soul, do you desire to return so soon, forgetting to leave?"
"I cross the summer shore, yearning west, mourning the day the capital grows distant."
Even not understanding musics, Chen Yi occasionally burst into poetic passion, reciting verses to relieve himself.
This time it was "Ai Ying."
After last night, Chen Yi discovered he had a massive yearning for Ying Yu.
He couldn’t help but think of Ying.
"The heart’s discontentment lingers long, with worry and sorrow intertwined."
"The road to Ying is far and wide, the river’s summer crossing impossible."
Yin Tingxue rubbed her eyes, poked her head out of the covers, hearing all the ancient melancholy rhetoric.
"What’s gotten into you?"
Yin Tingxue said softly, her tone slightly accusatory.
She didn’t call out Chen Yi’s theatrics directly; this husband was always like this, seeming cold and ruthless at first, but in time she discovered his occasional childishness before his own people.
Sometimes this childishness was pleasant, like when he gave her Bodhisattvas, paper flowers, accompanied her on walks and appreciating other sceneries, but sometimes it wasn’t well-liked, requiring tender care and closeness.
Chen Yi stopped speaking, gazed at the drowsy Little Fox, and didn’t hold back from admitting, "I really miss Sister Weiyang now, is that not allowed?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
"Of course, think about her more,"
Yin Tingxue nodded in agreement; Chen Yi bullied Sister Weiyang even more than he did her, so it was only fair he thought more of her.
