Sword of Coming

As it turned out, the abbot had accused White River Temple of poisoning his food and plotting to inject mercury into his body following his death. Not only that, he also revealed the many sins committed by the monks of White River Temple, totalling six major crimes, including scamming the wealthy women of the capital city, who paid the temple exorbitant sums of money in exchange for fertility.

This was such a shocking case that it alerted even the emperor of Southern Garden Nation, who ordered for an exhaustive investigation to be launched. The outcome of the investigation was that most of White River Temple's three hundred monks were imprisoned, while the rest were banished from the capital city and forbidden from ever becoming monks again.

The other three major temples remained largely unaffected thanks to their deep-rooted foundations, but many of the smaller temples were adversely affected by this controversy. For example, this Heart Manifestation Temple that was close to Champion Scholar Alley had been receiving far fewer visitors of late.

The abbot of Heart Manifestation Temple was a tall and benevolent-looking old monk who spoke with a strong regional dialect. Even though he had been living in the capital city for thirty years, he had never changed his dialect, nor did he like to lecture people about how profound and amazing Buddhism was.

Instead, he mostly chatted with others about mundane subjects, and whenever Chen Ping'an spoke to the abbot, he always found the old monk very difficult to understand. Despite this, Chen Ping'an had a very good impression of the abbot, and he could see that the old monk was a cultivator of the Lower Five Tiers, but didn't say anything about it.

Chen Ping'an left the alley and made his way to Heart Manifestation Temple, where he planned to practice his standing meditation.

It was only a one-kilometer trip, and on the way, Chen Ping'an passed by a martial arts school and an escort agency. Whenever he passed by the martial arts school, he could always hear a bunch of men grunting and yelling within its walls, presumably engaged in martial arts practice.

The street outside the escort agency was often packed with escort carriages, and the young men and women on these carriages always looked proud and excited, while the older individuals were a lot more quiet. Initially, whenever they saw Chen Ping'an, they would nod at him as a form of greeting, and Chen Ping'an would cup his fist in a salute in response.

After that, Chen Ping'an began actively saluting them, but to his surprise, the old men all lost interest in him, to the point that they didn't even bother to spare him a glance anymore.

Chen Ping'an quickly figured out why this was the case, and couldn't help but feel a little amused.

The old men most likely initially thought that he could be a prodigious young martial artist passing through the area. However, they must've then figured out where he was staying and decided that he posed no threat. In particular, the polite greetings that he always extended toward the old men were most likely construed as a sign of weakness.

There were many martial arts schools and escort agencies in the capital city. All of the martial arts sects that had earned a reputation for themselves liked to establish branches here, and these branches were often no less opulent than the manors of high-ranking officials. In contrast, there were very few rumors about Qi refiners here, and even the imperial preceptor was only a martial arts master.

However, what was most intriguing of all to Chen Ping'an was that there was an unremarkable-looking house that was occupied almost solely by martial artists. For some reason, all of them intentionally kept very low profiles, wearing plain and simple clothes, rarely speaking to anyone outside their own circle, and never showing off their martial arts skills.

One time, Chen Ping'an spotted what was very likely a sixth tier martial artist. He had been accompanied by a young woman wearing a veiled hat that concealed her appearance, but judging from her exceptional figure, she was most likely quite the beauty.

Over time, Chen Ping'an began to see the world through new eyes.

At the moment, there were very few visitors in Heart Manifestation Temple, consisting mostly of some of the elderly residents living nearby, so all of the monks in the temple were looking quite sullen and concerned.

Chen Ping'an had been visiting the temple quite frequently of late as he could sense that the old abbot's life was about to come to an end soon.

On this day, the old monk seemed to have predicted that Chen Ping'an was going to come, and waited for him in a side hall.

The two of them sat down across from each other on a pair of woven cushions, and the old monk could see that Chen Ping'an was rather hesitant about how to begin the conversation, so he smiled and cut straight to the chase.

"There have been past abbots of White River Temple that have truly attained godly bodies, so they're not all scammers as everyone proclaims. Don't let this one major blemish ruin the entire long history of White River Temple in your eyes.

“I wanted my body to be cremated into a few Sariras for the temple after I die, but it looks like that's going to be rather difficult in the current social climate. At the very least, we'll have to keep it a secret for some time."

"Does this count as karma in the teachings of Buddhism?" Chen Ping'an asked.

"Of course," the old monk replied with a nod. "White River Temple and Heart Manifestation Temple have never been connected, so it seems like the karmic ties between the two temples are blurry at best, but that's actually not the case. In the context of the all-encompassing reach of Buddhism, everything is interconnected."

This was the first time that the old monk had spoken of the teachings of Buddhism to Chen Ping'an.

After a brief hesitation, the old monk smiled and continued, "Karmic ties do exist between the two temples, but they're too profound and minute, too... small. There's no way for me to articulate them, so you'll have to seek them out for yourself."

The conversations between the two had always been very casual. The old monk would often be interrupted by the younger monks of the temple and have to attend to some matters in the temple, thereby leaving Chen Ping'an to his own devices. Whenever this happened, Chen Ping'an would pull out a bamboo slip or a book that he had brought with him to read, and he never felt offended.

On this day, Chen Ping'an didn't bring any books with him. Instead, he only brought with him a thin bamboo slip and a small carving knife.

Chen Ping'an was never one to throw away old things, and the carving knife was the one that had been gifted to him by the shop where he had bought the jade tablet.

On this day, the old monk was in a very talkative mood, but he spoke no further on the teachings of Buddhism. Instead, he spoke about a wide range of subjects as he did in the past, including the four arts, the state of the nation, the Hundred Schools of Thought... It was all very casual and unstructured.

Time slowly passed by.

The old monk smiled and asked, "Answer me this: is an official or a scholar who's committed heinous crimes capable of writing exceptional calligraphy and riveting poetry?"

"They are," Chen Ping'an replied with a nod.

"Is it possible for renowned heroes and generals of history to have secret misdeeds and flaws unknown to anyone else?"

"Of course."

"That's the right answer," the old monk said with a smile. "You mustn't turn to extremes in anything. When preaching to others, the worst thing you can do is think of yourself as absolutely right. One must see good even in the most heinous individuals and bad in even the most virtuous of saints.

“It's often the case that worldly power struggles can have very severe and long-lasting consequences, but that doesn't mean that the noble and virtuous individuals detached from these power struggles aren't capable of making the same mistakes.

“The problem is that if you're too soft in power struggles in the imperial court and try to preach this set of logic, you'll most likely meet a very terrible fate, so you can't blame those scholars who've turned to less than savory actions after becoming officials.

“In that case, can it not be said that everything that I've said up to this point has been nothing more than pointless waffling? What's the point in saying all of this?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head with a smile as he replied, "Someone else once preached something similar to me. He taught me to think about everything from different perspectives. Even if the same conclusion is reached and it seems like the exercise was nothing more than a waste of time, it'll ultimately prove to be beneficial in the long run."

The old monk nodded with a pleased expression.

"Whoever told you that is a very wise man."

Chen Ping'an massaged the small bamboo slip in his hand with his fingers as he said in a quiet voice, "One time, that same man was drunk, and he asked me some questions, but I felt like he was raising those questions to everyone under the heavens. He asked me how many books have I read that I can proclaim that I know what the world is like?

“How many people have I seen that I dare to say that I know how men and women behave? How much hardship have I witnessed that I dare to judge others as good or evil?"

"The man you speak of must lead a very difficult life," the old monk sighed.

All of a sudden, Chen Ping'an thought of a question that had been plaguing him this entire time, and he asked, "Do Buddhists really believe in the concept that anyone can attain enlightenment by renouncing their evil past?"

The old monk smiled as he said, "Before I answer that, I have another question to ask you: do you feel like that concept is both terrifying and unique, yet it also feels like an oversimplification that doesn't seem to comply with the true teachings of Buddhism?"

"I don't even know the basics of Buddhism, how am I supposed to know if something complies with the true teachings of Buddhism or not?" Chen Ping'an asked as he scratched his own head.

The old monk burst into laughter.

"The concept of attaining enlightenment by renouncing one's past evil ways is a gross oversimplification. The key is to actually know good and evil. There are many people in the world who unknowingly commit evil deeds, and there are also many people who knowingly do the same. Ultimately, everyone has committed evil in the past, just to different extents, but if one can truly turn their back on their evil ways, then that's certainly a good thing."

"Enlightenment is another overcomplicated concept. The average layman only sees the moment of enlightenment, but they don't see all of the hard work leading up to that moment. Even if they do, no one wants to put in all that effort. Is it difficult to become a Buddha? Of course it is. It's one thing to know the teachings of Buddhism, what's far more difficult is to abide by, protect, and pass down these teachings. The problem is that..."

The old monk's voice suddenly trailed off here as he heaved a forlorn sigh. He had been a Buddhist his entire life, yet even he couldn't accomplish what he had just described, so what was the point in delving even further into the subject with an outsider?

Chen Ping'an smiled as he encouraged, "Keep going. Regardless of whether I can accomplish what you're describing, it's certainly always a good thing if I know what to aim for."

The old monk waved a hand as he said, "Let me take a short break and have some tea. My throat feels like it's on fire from all that talking."

The old monk called out to a young monk in a nearby pavilion, who appeared to be reading a Buddhist scripture with his head lower, but was actually taking a nap. The young monk immediately snapped wide awake, then hurriedly rushed away to prepare some tea for the abbot and his guest under the old monk's instructions.

There was a huge tree nearby with a dense canopy, and a small oriole was perched on one of its branches, pecking at one thing or another.

Chen Ping'an drank his tea much faster than the old monk, and by the time he returned his empty bowl to the young monk, the abbot still wasn't even halfway done with his bowl yet.

Chen Ping'an picked up the bamboo slip that he had brought with him, and there were some faint markings on both sides of the bamboo slip, making it resemble a small ruler.

After the old monk finished his bowl of tea, he looked up at the hot summer sun for a moment, then said in an absentminded manner, "In a world devoid of principles, man will be as lifeless and devoid of luster as weeds at the height of a drought, so principles must be protected and passed down.

“The teachings of Buddhism are principles that monks must abide by, while etiquette lays out the principles that Confucians must follow, and Daoist teachings espouse the principles that guide the actions of Daoists. None of them are bad, so why fixate on differentiating between schools of thought? If a principle is good, then take it and make it your own."

Chen Ping'an looked up from his jade slip with a smile and nodded in response.

The old monk cast his gaze out toward the courtyard of the temple as he continued, "This world has always been indebted to good people. There are always rights and wrongs in this world, it's just that we don't waste our time and energy assessing the virtues of every little thing. We can not talk about them, and we can even intentionally say the opposite of what we think, but internally, we must know what is right and what is wrong.

“Unfortunately, there are simply many things in this world that one cannot change. There are more and more clever people, and those who use their wiles and intellect for self interest often like to scoff at sincerity, denouncing genuine kindness as pretentious and naive. Remember this, Chen Ping'an: the world will see you in the same way that you see this world. You look at it, and it's also looking at you."

Chen Ping'an felt this to be correct, but didn't ponder it too deeply.

The old monk was far more talkative than usual, and Chen Ping'an was the type of person who liked to mull things over, so he was still pondering the things that the old monk had said earlier.

All of a sudden, a bright smile appeared on the old monk's face as he asked, "What do you think of my preaching, Benefactor Chen? "

"It was great," Chen Ping'an replied with a smile as a hint of melancholy welled up in his heart.

The old monk continued to smile as he asked, "Previously, I heard you speak about the sequence and magnitude of good and evil. I want to hear about it again."

The first time Chen Ping'an had spoken about this concept, it had been rather clumsy and unrehearsed. However, these were things that came straight from the heart, so the more he spoke about them, the better that he was able to articulate his points, much like a mirror that became brighter and brighter the more it was polished.

There was a sequential order to right and wrong, and one shouldn't ignore this order just because they want to espouse their own principles.

Rights and wrongs also came in different magnitudes that could be measured using one, two, or even more rulers. These rulers were all of the righteous principles of the world, including the laws of Legalists, the etiquette of Confucianism, and the prophecies of Foretellers.

There were also things like baseline laws, morals and ethics, local customs and traditions, and these things couldn't just be encompassed under sweeping generalizations. Instead, all of them had to be studied extensively on an individual basis, and that was an extremely time and energy-consuming process.

Only after taking all of that into consideration could the final verdict on good or evil be made.

In light of that, the problem of whether human nature was inherently good or evil was no longer a question that couldn't be answered by scholars as this was a question that should only be answered at the very end, not something for one to decide at the very beginning of their journey as a scholar.

In the end, there really was no right or wrong. One could educate the masses, spread their teachings to the world, or simply go into seclusion to lead a peaceful life. Ultimately, it was all down to personal preference.

The old monk wore a tranquil expression, and after hearing Chen Ping'an's preaching, he joined his palms together and lowered his head as he murmured, "Amitabha."

Chen Ping'an turned his gaze to the little oriole that was perched on the roof, which was watching the young monk as he swept the courtyard.

As he looked back at the old monk, the latter smiled and said, "Even if the temple is gone, the monks will remain. Even if the monks are gone, the scriptures will remain. Even if the scriptures are gone, the Buddha remains.

“Even if the Buddha is gone, his teachings remain. Even if there comes a day where not a single monk or scripture is left in Heart Manifestation Temple, as long as people still hold the teachings of Buddhism dear to their hearts, Heart Manifestation Temple will continue to exist."

The old man turned to the peaceful courtyard once again, and the only sound that could be heard came from the young monk's sweeping broom.

"I can see a lotus flower blooming in the world," the old monk murmured as his eyes began to lose focus.

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

"It's my time," the old monk murmured as he lowered his head.

The young monk sweeping the courtyard turned to the abbot as he complained from afar, "Master, the sun is so bright right now, can I sweep the courtyard a little later? I'm about to die from heatstroke!"

Chen Ping'an turned to the young monk and placed a finger over his own lips in a silencing gesture while pointing at the old monk, who seemed to be taking a nap.

The young monk hurriedly fell silent, then began to giggle silently to himself.

It looks like Master also likes to slack off and take naps, just like me!

He snuck over to the shade cast by the eave of the main hall, and the little oriole mustered up some courage to fly onto his shoulder. The young monk faltered slightly, then abruptly turned his head to make a scary face at the little oriole, startling it into flying away in a panic. The young monk looked on at the fleeing bird with a dazed expression, then rubbed his own bald head with a slightly guilty look in his eyes.

On the woven cushion, the deceased old monk remained in a loose and relaxed seated position.

Looking at the old monk, Chen Ping'an suddenly thought of something that Lu Tai had said to him.

Death is but an eternal nap.