Chapter 158: Buddhist Disciple 18

The summer insects chirped, and the mountain temple, surrounded by ancient trees, was peaceful and cool at night.

Wuxin, holding the sleeping Qian, walked back to the meditation room with Mingzhen and Mingde.

The moon slowly rose from the mountains, casting a pale, frost-like glow. The path they had taken earlier was much brighter now, and even the candlelight was no longer needed.

As they walked, Wuxin spoke to Mingzhen, gently answering his questions. The relaxed atmosphere made Mingzhen feel much lighter, and his state of mind became as clear and transparent as the moonlight.

Mingzhen held Junior Disciple’s hand and, seeing him rubbing his eyes, picked him up and let him rest on his shoulder.

Along the way, the only sounds were Wuxin’s soft voice and a firefly that flew alongside them, blinking in and out, following them all the way.

From this day on, Mingzhen no longer spent all his time in the warehouse working on carpentry. Though he still often worked with wood, the time he spent on it had greatly decreased.

His time was freed up again, so Mingde was caught by Senior Disciple and made to increase his training hours, leaving him to watch Qian play around idly.

Mingzhen also thought about training Qian, but Qian was nowhere near as obedient as Mingde.

He had already experienced her free-spirited nature, and after several attempts, he could only watch her play freely.

If she felt like it, without anyone urging her, Qian would take Wuxin’s Magic Staff and practice with everyone, then sometimes run around chasing others with the staff, creating a bizarre game of “small fish catching big fish.”

Occasionally, Qian would join them for evening sessions, where they recited sutras and struck the wooden fish.

The rhythm of the wooden fish struck in sync with the chanting, neither fast nor slow, creating a pleasant melody.

But since Qian didn’t know the sutras, she often sped up the rhythm as she absentmindedly struck the wooden fish.

Especially when she remembered some upbeat song, that infectious rhythm would lead some distracted monks astray, causing the once organized wooden fish strikes to turn into chaos.

The noisy sound woke up a monk who was meditating in the great hall. When he angrily opened his eyes and jumped down from the platform beside the hall, roaring in fury, Qian was startled.

Qian had been here to play many times and always thought the statues on the platform were just that—statues. She hadn’t expected one to actually be… or were they all real?

Among these “statues,” Qian paid special attention to one, because it was different from the others—it was a dark golden color.

The muscles on its legs felt cold and hard to the touch, so when Qian reached out to touch it, she had always thought it was a very expensive statue coated in gold.

This time, however, because of the young monks who couldn’t focus, the golden Venerable Master broke his meditation and stood up, angrily shouting at them.

“What are you cultivating?! How could you be led off track so easily?”

“How can you focus?! You’re so easily influenced!”

He was tall and imposing, and even when he stepped off the platform, his dark golden hue still made him look like a statue.

He ordered the distracted monks to continue, then suddenly turned his fierce gaze toward Qian, glaring at her with such intensity that she was completely enveloped in his shadow. He shouted, “You continue too! Let me see who dares to be distracted again, who dares to be led astray by you!”

Qian looked up at him, trembling in fear, and quickly raised her hand to thump her little wooden fish.

But such a fierce expression, such a strange person, scared the child.

She instinctively felt like crying, but with her trusted elder not around, she didn’t dare. Just as she was about to cry, she suddenly saw Wuxin coming to pick her up at the door. The tears instantly flowed, and she threw the mallet down and ran straight into Master Wuxin’s arms.

The older Master Wuxin looked even more imposing, especially when he wasn’t smiling. When he fixed his calm gaze on someone, they couldn’t help but feel intimidated, beginning to wonder if they had done something wrong.

Holding the child tightly against his leg, he walked toward the golden monk.

“Hua Yuan, go back and sit.”

The roaring golden monk’s fury instantly subsided the moment Wuxin appeared. He sat back on the platform without a word, his movements surprisingly obedient.

“What are you cultivating, to be so easily influenced by them?” Wuxin asked.

Having heard his own words spoken back to him, Hua Yuan didn’t dare to retort. He fidgeted on the platform as if there were needles poking at him.

Hua Yuan, the senior monk, had been scolded by Buddhist Disciple, and the young monks became even more nervous. When Wuxin’s gaze turned to them, they all lowered their heads.

Buddhist Disciple’s words weren’t harsh, but they were far more terrifying than Hua Yuan’s roars!

Wuxin didn’t say anything else to them, but to the quietly looking Qian, he said, “Qian, come back tomorrow to strike the wooden fish again. It will help them with their cultivation.”

Qian quickly nodded obediently in agreement.

After becoming the bully of the martial arts field, Qian then became the little troublemaker of the sutra hall, bringing a new challenge to many of the Senior Disciple uncles.

But the influence was mutual. Gradually, the monks practicing with staffs no longer let her disturbances affect them. They could easily maintain their practice despite the child’s antics and the threat of Buddhist Disciple’s Magic Staff. They even started teaching Qian how to use the staff.

Even though Qian didn’t seriously learn, through this daily practice, she gradually became more skilled with the staff.

The wooden fish strikes also became easier. When the monks were no longer distracted by her, she found her own rhythm in the steady pace of the beats, immersing herself in the peaceful and tranquil atmosphere. Each time the evening session ended, it felt like she had taken a restful nap, shaking off any exhaustion.

The only problem was that the energetic little child became even noisier.

Late one night, after Qian had washed her face and braided her hair, Master Wuxin called her over. She suddenly wanted to play with her rolling lanterns, came back all sweaty.

Wuxin went to fetch water to wash her face. Qian stood in the foot basin, lifting her face for him to wipe.

“Qian.”

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you something.”

Qian looked up at him with her round, dark eyes.

“In a couple of days, I’ll be going into the tower for cultivation. You won’t be able to see me for a while.”

Qian opened her mouth and bit down on the corner of the washcloth, making strange gurgling sounds, expressing her unwillingness.

Wuxin pulled the washcloth out of the child’s mouth and washed it in the basin.

“Where are you going? Where is the tower? Is cultivation like sitting cross-legged to sleep, like in the lotus pond? Can I go too? How many days is a period of time?”

“……”

She continued asking even after lying down. As she asked, she lifted the blanket and tried to get up, but Wuxin put her back in the blanket, and she climbed out again.

Finally, he pinned her back in the blanket, patting it like a wooden fish, which finally made her fall asleep.

Wuxin took Qian to see the tower he had mentioned.

It was a place she had never been before, deep within Bodhi Mountain, a place young monks rarely visited.

If there was a “sacred place” on Bodhi Mountain, it would be here.

The tower, made of blue-gray stone, stood about ten meters tall. There was a small door at the bottom, half the height of a person, through which one could enter. Around the tower were many carved caves in the surrounding stone walls.

Similar to the caves by the roadside, this place also had monks practicing meditation, each with different ages, expressions, and postures. Moss covered their bodies, and in some caves, where vines hung down, there were even skeletons seated in meditation.

They all faced the white tower, as if in worship.

Temples in the Mortal Realm mostly enshrine statues of immortals, gods, and Buddhas, but there were few statues of Buddha in the main halls of Bodhi Mountain. The human-shaped statues here were mostly of monks in meditation, and they weren’t objects of worship.

Here, the only thing they worshipped was the tower.

Qian didn’t understand the significance of the tower. She only knew that in a few days, her father would enter the tower, and she was reluctant to part with him.

Although several people had been taking care of her after coming to Bodhi Temple, and she could play around by herself, her time with Wuxin wasn’t much. But as long as she wanted to, she could always find him and see him whenever she wished, which made the child feel secure.

Once it was said that she might not see him, the child began to feel afraid.

No matter how unwilling Qian was, Wuxin still entered the tower two days later.

At this point, he had already grown quite old, but when his rough, aged hand rested on Qian’s head, it still felt broad and warm.

Mingzhen almost didn’t catch Qian, as she ran to the small door of the tower. If the door hadn’t been shut, she would have run in with him.

The sound of the child crying could be heard all around the tower, even echoing because of the terrain.

However, the older monks meditating here were far more composed than the younger ones. Even this noise didn’t wake them up, and none of them opened their eyes to see what the disturbance was.

This was Mingzhen’s first time here. Seeing the older monks meditating, he felt awe and tried to comfort Qian, attempting to get her to stop crying.

But Qian, like a child seeing her parents leave for work, was not so easily consoled.

On the first day Wuxin entered the tower, Qian stayed outside the tower, unwilling to go anywhere, refusing to leave even for a meal.

Mingzhen squatted beside her and could hear her stomach growling. He tried to take her to eat, but she refused to move.

When he tried to force her to leave, she used all her strength to lean back, her arms and legs bracing against the steps. She refused to budge, glaring with puffy eyes and said, “I’ll sit here. I’m waiting here.”

Mingzhen couldn’t bring himself to drag her away.

“Then sit here and don’t run around. I’ll go get some steamed buns for you.”

Mingzhen turned and walked out. When he looked back, he saw Qian, so small, sitting on the steps in front of the tower, waiting. It looked quite pitiful.

Just as he turned the corner away from the white tower, Venerable Master Yinhe from the end of the stone path came over. When he saw the food box in his hand, he guessed that he was there to deliver food to Qian.

Sure enough, Venerable Master Yinhe opened the food box, revealing several large, pleated buns inside.

Qian sniffled as she bit into a bun. A monk from one of the caves moved slightly and suddenly spoke, “How many years has it been? I’ve never seen you make pleated buns. ‘Steamed Bun’ Venerable Master no longer makes steamed buns?”

He opened his eyes, the gray crust on his eyelids peeling away. He jumped down from the cave and scratched behind his ear, pulling out a bird’s nest and casually placing it next to the cave.

“Buddhist Disciple Wuxin can change, ‘Steamed Bun’ Venerable Master can change, and I should change too!”

Venerable Master Yinhe looked at him with disdain. “Once you’re enlightened, go down the mountain.”

The monk rubbed the moss off his head, shaking his ragged sleeves as he walked away, laughing. He looked somewhat mad.

Qian ate three buns and continued sitting by the tower, waiting.

Venerable Master Yinhe, still with his indifferent tone, said to her, “If you’re hungry, remember to eat.”

He added, “Don’t worry, Buddhist Disciple isn’t entering the tower for the first time. He’ll come out after a while.”

After eating, Mingzhen came back with Mingde to check on Qian. He didn’t see her on the steps in front of the tower and thought she might have run off by herself.

Mingde pointed to the stone wall behind. Mingzhen looked over and saw that Qian had climbed into a stone cave, lying inside with an empty bird’s nest in her hands, sleeping. Her legs hung outside the cave.