Chapter 141: Buddhist Disciple 1

Qian remembered this voice, remembered these familiar words.

Whenever it appeared, it meant that she would once again have to leave the home she knew and the people she was attached to.

So, she subconsciously tightened her grip on her mother’s hand, and also her fist, trying to use this insignificant strength to resist the coming separation.

“Mom…”

Aberrant seemed to sense something too and clasped its hands together, holding the child.

But the child in its hands still disappeared, and it could no longer feel her breath.

System 65 hadn’t expected that this time, the host would be so lucky, managing to survive in the Punishment World.

In a world that hadn’t been fully controlled, two Systems couldn’t exist simultaneously. Since the Survival System was of a higher level, it didn’t follow the host into the Punishment World.

It only received relevant information when the host completed the Mission and returned.

This time, the System didn’t offer any advice like it had in the past. Instead, it hurriedly threw the host into the next world to start the Mission.

[You are about to enter the next target world. Please prepare, host—]

A host who couldn’t generate any profit had no value, and it could only hope that she would either self-destruct or die soon.

In Nanmei Town, there was a small temple, originally dedicated to a Bodhisattva. The old temple keeper had passed away two years ago, and the temple was left unattended. It had become a temporary residence for a few little beggars.

The locals lived fairly well, most were honest and kind-hearted. Hence, the large town only had a few beggars, who had wandered there from other places.

There were five beggars in total. The oldest was already twelve years old and spent his days doing odd jobs to earn food, while also taking care of the younger ones.

The youngest were five years old. When they weren’t begging, they helped the kind-hearted people in town with errands to earn a few pennies.

It was evening, and the children, whether they had been working or begging, had all returned. They gathered in the small temple, preparing to eat.

In a chipped bowl, there was a steamed bun, bought with the money earned by the oldest child. Since he wasn’t very strong and didn’t earn much, he could only afford these coarse grain buns.

There was also rice, two dumplings, watery porridge, and even two beautifully shaped flower pastries.

All the food had been begged for by the younger ones. The two flower-shaped pastries were given by the owner of the local pastry shop, a kind-hearted woman who often let the children run errands for her and would reward them with a few pastries.

The oldest brother, Black Dog, divided the food, and the younger ones eagerly began to eat.

The two sweet pastries were given to the youngest two children.

As they ate, suddenly, they heard a child crying outside.

At first, no one paid attention, thinking it might be a child from a nearby house throwing a tantrum. But the crying continued, and it seemed to be right outside the temple.

Meihua, who was ten, bit into half a bun and couldn’t help but look up at her big brother, Black Dog. In his eyes, she saw the same confusion.

“I’ll go out and check,” Black Dog said. He quickly finished his food in a few bites, stood up, and walked out.

Winter was approaching, and as soon as night fell, a cold breeze began to blow, biting through the air. As soon as Black Dog stepped outside, he shivered, quickly running to the gate.

He removed the wooden stick blocking the door, stood by the door, and looked outside. There, he saw a small girl, sobbing like a kitten, her age looking even younger than their youngest brother.

Meihua and the others waited inside the temple. After a while, they saw Black Dog walking in, holding the sobbing little girl.

“Whose child is this? Black Dog, why did you bring her here?”

“She seems to have gotten lost from her family. She was just standing outside, crying. When I asked her something, she didn’t respond,” Black Dog said, scratching his head and handing the child to Meihua.

As soon as Meihua touched the child’s hand, she exclaimed, “Her hands are so cold! How long has she been out in the wind?”

Meihua carefully examined the child by the dim oil lamp. The girl looked to be around three years old. Her cheeks and little hands were pale and tender. She didn’t seem like the child of a poor family, but her clothes were thin, and she was wearing a strange coat for such weather.

Meihua quickly took off her own coat and wrapped it around the child. Then, she poured a bowl of warm water from the clay pot and handed it to her. Only then did she ask, “What’s your name? Where’s your home?”

After asking for a long time, she only learned that the child’s name was Qian. She didn’t know where she lived, which street she was on, or which house she came from.

When asked again, she just kept saying she wanted her mom or dad. Her face, once pale, was now red from crying.

The children had been in Nanmei Town for a while, but they had never seen her. They curiously gathered around to listen, but soon they started yawning. It was about time for them to sleep.

“Forget it. If we can’t get any answers, let’s just rest for now. We’ll ask around tomorrow,” Black Dog said, and then he settled down to sleep in a corner.

Except for him, the rest of the younger children all slept together. Winter was cold, and they lacked blankets, so they huddled together for warmth, piling up their patched-up, worn-out cotton jackets on top.

Meihua usually slept with the youngest child, but today, with the addition of an even younger girl, she made space for her to sleep beside her.

She gently patted the child’s back and comforted her softly, “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be able to go home tomorrow. Just sleep now.”

The smell wasn’t pleasant, but the cold body in her arms gradually warmed up, comforting the child. After crying for so long, little Qian finally calmed down and fell asleep, her eyelids drooping.

The next day, they woke up early. Meihua heard the child’s stomach rumbling like thunder and laughed. She got up, toasted the half-steamed bun she had saved from the night before, and gave it to Qian.

They usually didn’t eat in the morning, as there wasn’t much food, but the others couldn’t help but salivate at the smell of the toasted bun, watching Qian eat.

Qian had just woken up, still a bit confused. The warm, toasted bun was placed in front of her. She took two bites before realizing that she wasn’t at home anymore, and her mother was no longer beside her.

Qian was about to cry but held back, yet her hunger was undeniable. She opened her mouth, and in the end, she ate the bun first, then was fed a bowl of water by Meihua.

After that, she didn’t feel like crying anymore.

When the day broke, the children finally got a good look at their new little sister.

Her skin was soft and fair, whiter than flour, with large, dark eyes. Her appearance was delicate and quite cute.

“We’ll take her with us when we go begging today. We can also ask around if anyone recognizes her, and hopefully, we can send her home.”

Except for the eldest, the other four children went out in pairs to beg. Qian followed Meihua and Little Dog, who was five years old.

Meihua held one hand of each child, and they spent the whole day walking around the surrounding streets. They asked everyone they met but didn’t hear of anyone who had lost a child.

When they returned to the small temple that evening, Black Dog distributed food to everyone, though no one knew what to do. In the end, he said, “Let’s just let her stay here for now. Maybe her family will come looking for her in a couple of days.”

If no one came, the child would probably have to stay with them.

None of the five children were related by blood. The others had all been picked up by Black Dog during his begging days. Meihua and Huagao were girls, abandoned during a famine when their families couldn’t afford to keep them. White Dog was a boy, probably abandoned because of a limp. Little Dog, the youngest, was a boy with poor eyesight—he was blind.

When Black Dog mentioned that this little girl might live with them from now on, the other children were excited.

“Does that mean she’ll be our youngest sister?”

Even Little Dog, who rarely spoke and couldn’t see, said, “Does that mean I’ll be her big brother?”

The two rice cakes the pastry shop owner had given them were placed in front of Qian’s bowl.

Sensing their kindness and curiosity, Qian’s mood calmed considerably. She even called them “big brother” and “big sister” a few times at their request.

On the third day, Qian wore an oversized, patched-up winter coat from her sister and a hat made by her sister. She followed behind them to beg.

Except for her slightly puffed cheeks, she was even whiter than the others, looking perfectly at home with the little beggar team.

In Nanmei Town, one could see a mountain in the distance amidst the white clouds. Ordinary people could see it but couldn’t touch it. Many referred to it as Immortal Mountain or Spirit Mountain.

The mountain was actually called Bodhi Mountain. The reason ordinary people couldn’t approach or climb it was because it was in the Spirit Realm, isolated from the Mortal Realm.

There were no immortals on Bodhi Mountain, only a Buddhist temple, home to a group of Buddhist practitioners.

Bodhi Mountain had been isolated from the world for many years. Most of the accomplished Buddhist practitioners would not leave unless it was for a heavenly tribulation, and they often spent hundreds of years in seclusion. Their stories were rare among mortals, but they were well-known in the cultivation and demon realms.

In the lotus pond of the mountain temple, surrounded by lush green lotus leaves and a few scattered white flowers, a young monk opened his eyes.

He murmured in confusion, his eyes swirling with a mysterious energy, as if something profound was flowing through them.

Under his lowered gaze, a budded white lotus flower bloomed, its petals layered and swaying before quickly withering, leaving behind a green lotus seed.

Wu Xin extended his palm, and the lotus seed fell into his hand.

“I see,” he murmured, sensing something, before standing and walking toward the shore.

The Buddha’s Disciple at the lotus pond followed a strict routine. If he left early, it meant he had sensed something that required him to descend the mountain.

The monk guarding the lotus pond bowed to him.

“Buddha’s Disciple, have you sensed a calamity?”

Wu Xin replied, “It’s not a calamity. I’ve received a karmic connection and must go down the mountain for a while.”

As the Buddha’s Disciple on Bodhi Mountain, Wu Xin’s cultivation focused on the cycle of life and death. Unlike other Buddhist practitioners, he followed a cycle of sixty years, constantly experiencing life from childhood to old age, again and again. Each cycle was a form of cultivation.

Every sixty years, he would descend the mountain to walk among mortals and gain insight into human affairs, staying for ten, twenty, or even thirty years.

Unlike those ethereal cultivators, Wu Xin appeared quite ordinary.

He was of average height and had an unremarkable appearance. His skin, however, was exceptionally fair, and his eyes held a faint light. His whole demeanor was calm and composed, making people feel trust and warmth toward him.

At first glance, he seemed nothing special, but upon closer inspection, he was as imposing as a mountain, as deep as an abyss.

Under this temperament, no one would care about his appearance—whether he wore a beautiful monk’s robe or a simple brown robe with straw sandals.

The plain figure, holding a long staff, slowly made its way down the Bodhi Mountain path, disappearing soon into the green mountains and white clouds, never to be seen again.

Qian sniffed, her cheeks rosy from running outside in the wind.

It was the fifth day since she had moved into the small temple. She followed behind her older brothers and sisters, holding a bowl with food they had begged for, walking back to the temple.

Inside the bowl was warm, thick porridge with red dates, fragrant and sweet. Holding it made her feel warm inside.

“Hurry, hurry, put everything down and get into the blankets to warm up. I’ll start a fire, then we’ll eat,” Meihua called out.

The younger ones put down their bowls and rolled into the blankets, chattering about the food they had gotten that day.

Nanmei Town had many kind-hearted people, and those who had food at home were always willing to share.

Their conversation was lively, and soon Black Dog returned, holding some freshly bought coarse grain buns.

“I just bought these, still warm. Eat them while they’re hot.”

It wasn’t dark yet, but Black Dog had already propped the door shut. Just then, there was a sudden knock at the door.

Black Dog put down the buns and instructed Meihua to divide the food among the younger ones before running to open the door.

He saw a young monk standing outside.

Having stayed at the small temple for two years, Black Dog had learned a bit about the situation. He quickly stepped back to let the monk enter, asking awkwardly, “Master, are you passing by? Do you need to stay in the temple?”

“The temple hasn’t been maintained for a long time; it might not be very comfortable.”

“I’ve come to take someone,” the monk replied.

Black Dog was surprised by these words.

Wu Xin stepped into the drafty little temple and saw four children huddled on the bedding in the corner. Each one stared at him wide-eyed as he entered, resembling a litter of Little Dogs.

The smallest one was being held by the others, with her cheeks puffed up as she ate something unknown, looking at him with a confused expression as if she didn’t understand what was happening.

Wu Xin smiled gently, walked over, and said to the child, “I’ve come to take you.”