Chapter 551: But Young Lady, Men and Women Should Not Touch

"Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, while practicing the profound Prajnaparamita, perceived that all five aggregates are empty, and thus overcame all suffering."

"Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness, emptiness does not differ from form, form is emptiness, emptiness is form. The same is true for feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness."

"Shariputra, all dharmas are marked with emptiness, they do not arise or cease, are not defiled or pure, do not increase or decrease."

"Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, no feeling, perception, mental formations, or consciousness, no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind, no sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, or object of mind, no realm of sight, up to no realm of consciousness."

The sky had just begun to lighten, the morning light faint and gentle. In the main hall of Four Void Temple, the monks sat in orderly rows, performing their unwavering daily morning practice.

The sound of sutra recitation drifted out from the main hall, gentle as Buddhist music, spreading across the whole of Four Void Mountain, echoing between the morning breeze and the thin mist.

And above the summit of Four Void Mountain, a rich Buddhist presence lingered, gradually condensing into an illusory golden Buddha statue, standing tall and looking down solemnly upon all living beings.

"There is no ignorance, and no ending of ignorance, up to no old age and death, and no ending of old age and death."

"There is no suffering, no cause, no cessation, no path, no wisdom and no attainment, because there is nothing to attain."

"The Bodhisattva, through reliance on Prajnaparamita, has no obstruction in the mind. Without obstruction, there is no fear, and one goes far beyond distorted dream-thinking, reaching ultimate Nirvana."

As the first rays of morning sunlight poured into the hall, their warm glow fell gently across every monk's shoulders and face.

At the very front of the hall, a man clad in a monk's robe sat with his eyes closed, hands joined in prayer, his expression full of devotion.

As he recited each word, a golden Buddhist light settled over him, like a robe of flowing gold, resplendent and shimmering.

The abbot, seated at the very front, watched his disciple, a warm smile of satisfaction rising to his lips, and he gave a contented nod.

When the sound of chanting gradually faded and the last echoes settled into stillness, the man opened his eyes and found his master gazing at him with a kindly expression.

"Master." The man pressed his hands together and gave a respectful bow.

"Mm." The old abbot gave a small nod and asked, "Quyin, how old are you now?"

"In reply to Master, this disciple has just turned eighteen this year." The man, whose Dharma name was Quyin, answered honestly, his voice clear and steady.

"Eighteen years already." A distant, wistful light flickered quietly in the old abbot's aged, clouded eyes.

"I remember it as though it were yesterday. I had just returned from the village at the foot of the mountain, and I found you by the side gate of the temple. You were no more than one or two months old at the time, a tiny thing wrapped in swaddling cloth, your eyes not even fully open yet."

The old abbot stroked his graying beard, his gaze warm and kindly as he looked at Quyin, a note of feeling rising to his lips in a smile.

"How time flies. It is hard to believe a full eighteen years have already passed."

"Quyin, your natural talent is exceptional, and you are diligent and hardworking. You have gained no shallow understanding of many of our Buddhist scriptures. To have already entered the Dragon Gate realm at only eighteen years of age is truly no small achievement, genuinely rare."

"But we practitioners of the Buddhist path, no matter how many sutras we read, no matter how deeply we grasp the principles of meditation, must not remain confined to the pages of books alone. The Confucians have a saying that rings especially true: 'What is learned from paper always seems shallow. To truly understand a thing, one must put it into practice oneself.' There is a great truth hidden within these words."

"These past eighteen years, you have never once left the mountain. From today onward, you should go down the mountain regularly, and help the villagers and townspeople nearby with practical matters. But remember, unless you encounter demonic evil, avoid using your techniques whenever possible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." The young monk pressed his hands together and answered with respectful obedience.

After the morning practice concluded, the monks of Four Void Temple dispersed, each going about their own duties and cultivation.

Quyin was also assigned a task, to travel down the mountain to Cloud Village.

"Elder Martial Brother Quyin." Just as Quyin was about to step through the temple gate, a small novice monk, no more than eight or nine years old, came running up behind him, out of breath.

"Xu Jing, what is it?" Quyin stopped and turned, looking at his young junior with a gentle, patient smile.

"Nothing important, I just saw Elder Martial Brother heading out," the small novice said, raising his face, his eyes bright with curiosity. "Where is Elder Martial Brother going? Down the mountain?"

"Mm." Quyin gave a nod. "Master said I should go down the mountain regularly for practical experience. Today there is a young couple in Cloud Village getting married, and I am going down to officiate the wedding."

"I see." Xu Jing lifted his face and asked in a small voice, "Then... can I come with you, Elder Martial Brother?"

"You..." Quyin smiled and rubbed the top of Xu Jing's shaved head, his tone carrying both fondness and helplessness. "You had better finish your studies properly first, or Master will scold you again."

With that, Quyin turned and made his way down the mountain.

"Elder Martial Brother, remember to bring back some vegetarian dishes from the feast when you come down!" Xu Jing called after him, raising his voice.

Quyin did not turn back, only raising a hand and waving it, indicating he had heard.

Along the mountain path, sunlight filtered through the dappled shadows of the trees, scattering across the ground like golden fragments.

A squirrel perched on a branch, happily gnawing on a nut while curiously watching this human walking down the mountain.

Before long, it went bounding off again through the treetops, playing and chasing about.

A few rabbits hid deep in the underbrush, cautiously poking their heads out to observe for a moment before darting away once the human had passed.

Cicadas called from the trees in overlapping waves, lending the forest a lively, thriving air.

"Eighteen years already." Looking at this familiar landscape, Xiao Mo felt a wave of quiet feeling rise in him. "These eighteen years have genuinely been rather too quiet."

He recalled how, eighteen years before, the moment his consciousness had returned, he found himself an infant crying without pause.

He had understood immediately that this was his second lifetime.

Only Xiao Mo had not expected that this life would begin under such difficult circumstances, that he would be abandoned outside a temple gate by his own birth parents.

Fortunately, the old monk had carried him inside.

From that point on, Xiao Mo had grown up in the temple, entering monastic life from childhood, reciting sutras day after day, meditating night after night, and eighteen years had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

With his exceptional talent and what could be called precocious understanding, Xiao Mo had learned the Buddhist classics with remarkable speed, and his cultivation had advanced no less quickly.

And because Xiao Mo was blessed with such striking looks, and often interpreted fortune signs for people at the temple, with results that proved genuinely accurate, he had gained a certain measure of renown throughout the surrounding villages and towns.

"I wonder what has become of the world now." Xiao Mo mused quietly to himself.

All these years, he had no way of knowing what the current Demon Realm had become, let alone how Jingci was faring and in this second lifetime, the Book of a Hundred Lives had imposed certain restrictions on him. He was not permitted to actively reveal his identity to Jingci.

Of course, this incarnation of Xiao Mo had no intention of revealing his reincarnation to Jingci either.

Though the Book of a Hundred Lives had granted him three lifetimes to help Jingci ascend to the Ascension realm.

Xiao Mo had a quiet sense that this one lifetime might well be enough.

Without quite noticing, Xiao Mo had already arrived at the courtyard where the young couple in Cloud Village lived.

At the arrival of a monk from Four Void Temple, the entire Zhu household was overjoyed, receiving him with the utmost warmth and care.

What Xiao Mo needed to do was actually quite simple, to accompany the groom on the journey to fetch his bride, and once the couple bowed to complete the ceremony, to stand to the side reciting sutras, offering blessings for the newlyweds.

Only, because Xiao Mo's appearance was genuinely striking, the bridesmaids found themselves momentarily unable to look away the moment they saw him.

They stared at his clear, refined features, each privately lamenting to herself what a shame it was that such a handsome man had chosen to become a monk.

Xiao Mo simply gave a faint smile to all this attention, paying it no mind.

At the feast, he ate a few vegetarian dishes and specially packed a portion to bring back for Xu Jing.

"We are grateful for the master's help today. This is a small token of our appreciation. We ask that the master not think it beneath him." The host held out a red cloth to Xiao Mo, and wrapped inside it was the payment for his services that day.

Xiao Mo unwrapped the red cloth, examined it, and drew out about twenty percent of the copper coins, handing it back to the host, his tone gentle but firm. "Benefactor, this gift is too generous. According to our temple's rules, I am only permitted to accept this much."

"Oh, that is no trouble at all!" The honest, simple-hearted uncle waved a hand with a smile, his expression entirely sincere. "Consider the rest a donation to your temple's incense fund. The master need not decline it."

"That truly will not do, Benefactor Zhu. The temple has its own rules." Xiao Mo pushed the money back once more, then, thinking it over, added with a smile, "How about this. Keep this money for now, and when your family welcomes a grandson someday, I will come and offer prayers of blessing, and accept it all together then."

"Well... all right then." Seeing Xiao Mo so insistent, the uncle did not press the matter further and let it go. "Then safe travels, master. In a few days, our whole family will come up the mountain to pay our respects at the temple."

"Very good. Benefactor Zhu need not accompany me any further." Xiao Mo pressed his hands together, gave a bow, and took his leave.

Walking through the countryside, Xiao Mo watched the villagers coming and going, the children laughing and chasing each other through the fields, the women washing clothes by the stream, the men working hard in the fields under the sun, and he felt his own heart grow quietly still in response.

Xiao Mo understood clearly that the world at present was far from peaceful.

Most of the Demon Realm remained caught in the fires of war and turmoil.

To find, in the midst of such a chaotic world, a place of such quiet peace and harmony was genuinely a rare and precious thing.

And as he walked, Xiao Mo also overheard, in the idle chatter of a number of villagers, that Cloud Village had recently welcomed a strikingly beautiful young woman. When they spoke of her, not only did the young men's eyes light up, but even the aunties and grandmothers of the village grew animated, speaking of her with great excitement but Xiao Mo did not pay much attention to this idle gossip, taking it for nothing more than an ordinary bit of country talk.

"Help..."

"Is anyone there..."

"Help..."

As Xiao Mo left the village and made his way up the mountain path, he had just reached the halfway point when he faintly heard cries for help. And from the sound of it, it seemed to be a young woman.

Without hesitation, Xiao Mo hurried toward the source of the sound.

Before long, Xiao Mo arrived at a hillside.

Standing at the top of the slope, he looked down and saw a woman dressed in ordinary farm-style linen kneeling on the ground.

A bamboo basket was strapped to her back, and one small hand was gripping her ankle tightly, her expression showing considerable pain.

Though she wore plain, coarse clothing, her figure was quite exceptional, and even the simple garments could not fully conceal her grace and allure.

"Young lady, is there something this humble monk can help with?"

Xiao Mo called down from the hillside.

Hearing someone approach, the woman turned around with delight and the instant she turned, Xiao Mo could not help a small pause of surprise.

This woman was exceptionally beautiful, her features as fine as a painted celestial being's, her bewitching fox-like eyes stirring the heart, and beneath her elegant, upturned nose, soft, full pink lips.

Anyone who saw her would find it difficult to imagine that such beauty could exist in this world.

Utterly flawless, without the slightest imperfection and the woman's pale, delicate skin did not look at all like what one would expect from an ordinary farm girl.

Even with dirt smudged on her fair cheeks, it did not appear unclean in the slightest. If anything, it seemed like a perfectly placed accent, lending her an air of pitiable, touching vulnerability.

"Oh! Monk... Master!"

The woman lifted her face and called out to Xiao Mo in a soft voice, her tone as delicate as willow catkins in the wind.

"I came up the mountain to gather herbs, and I accidentally hurt myself falling. Master, could you please help me? My foot hurts so badly."

That fragile, helpless expression of hers would have made nearly any man wish he could give up his very life for her.

"May I ask which household the young lady belongs to? I will go and fetch your family." Xiao Mo said, his tone concerned, yet keeping a certain distance.

"No, wait, monk..." The woman grew visibly anxious at this, her lovely eyes looking at Xiao Mo with quiet reproach. "If you leave now, what if I run into some bandit? Or what if some wild beast carries me off? What then?"

She lowered her head, gently rubbing her ankle, her voice carrying a note of grievance. "I truly cannot walk. Master, it is nearly dark. Could you not carry me down the mountain?"

Xiao Mo shook his head, his tone even. "But young lady, men and women should not touch, and besides, I am a monk."

"What does being a monk have to do with it?" The woman pushed out her lips, arguing back without conceding the point. "Saving a life is worth more than building seven pagodas. You would be saving me. I do not care about such small proprieties. Why should a monk like you care so much?"

Xiao Mo found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

Seeing Xiao Mo standing there hesitating, torn with indecision, the woman's eyes suddenly grew misty, the rims turning red, as though tears might fall at any moment.

"Master, would you truly, over such a trivial matter, watch someone die before your very eyes and do nothing to help?"