Chapter 159: Buddhist Disciple 19

Qian rode her small wooden cart, circling the tower again and again. The ground, rarely trodden, had patches of moss that were flattened by her walking and riding, leaving obvious marks behind.

Tired of riding, Qian stopped her cart at the edge of the stairs and ran over to peer through the small door of the tower.

She crouched by the door, looking through the crack, but saw nothing. She knocked on the door and called out for her father, but there was no response.

“Qian, why are you looking again? You can’t see anything, come on, it’s time for dinner,” Mingzhen called as he came over with a food box.

He had said this many times, but Qian still often ran over to the door to look.

At least now, she was willing to return to sleep at night.

In the first few days, she wouldn’t leave at night, and only when she was too tired to stay awake and fell asleep would she be carried back to the meditation room to sleep.

Then, the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, she would search for her father. If she couldn’t find him, she would cry and run to the tower.

Mingzhen explained many times that Master Wuxin was simply meditating in the tower and would come out after some time. However, Qian, who had always been perceptive and could understand them in the past, now showed a clear refusal to understand.

It seemed like she had a stubborn perception of separation, believing that once someone left, they would never return. So, her sadness lasted a long time.

Even after day after day of explanations, she finally came to believe it, but still, she couldn’t shake her worry and insisted on staying here.

She used to run around the temple, but now, she would stay in this one place and play.

Mingzhen was not too comfortable with her being alone here all day, so he would often come to check on her. Between his cultivation sessions, he would bring tools to do carpentry here.

At first, he feared disturbing the venerable monks meditating in the stone caves around the tower, but soon realized that they were like stone statues, impervious to any noise. He grew accustomed to it.

When Mingzhen did carpentry, Qian would squat beside him, picking up small wooden scraps and playing with them, like building blocks.

Picking up shavings, grabbing wood chips… even the dullest activities became interesting as long as she had to stay here.

Before Mingzhen started bringing his tools to work, Qian had become so bored that she had been on her hands and knees scraping the moss off the tiles, removing a large patch from the edges.

Seeing that she was really bored, Mingzhen asked her several times if she wanted to go somewhere else to play, but Qian would shake her head vigorously each time. If he asked again, she was on the verge of tears.

One day, Venerable Master Yinhe came by to take another look at Qian. He was carrying a hoe and other tools.

Qian asked him, “What are you going to do?”

Venerable Master Yinhe answered briefly, “Going to dig up peanuts.”

His responses were usually short, just one sentence, but this time he spoke a little more.

“The peanut field is nearby. Would you like to go with Mingde and have a look?”

Mingzhen quickly nudged Mingde, who was focused on playing with the wood chips beside him: “Go with Venerable Master Yinhe to dig up peanuts, and go with Qian.”

Qian hesitated, but Venerable Master Yinhe added, “It’s very close, and you can still see the tower from there.”

Hearing this, Qian was finally persuaded to go. She grabbed the small basket Venerable Master Yinhe had made for her and followed him to the peanut field.

Venerable Master Yinhe owned many fields on Bodhi Mountain, scattered in different places. The largest one, where he had once taken the two children, was far from the tower, while the one near the tower was a small peanut field.

With a flick of his hoe, large clumps of peanuts with roots were turned up.

He dug up the peanuts while Qian and Mingde each carried a small basket, digging through the dirt to find peanuts and picking them one by one from the plant’s roots.

Harvesting the peanuts had a natural, healing power to it.

Qian focused seriously on picking peanuts, never lifting her head. She went from squatting to kneeling in the dirt, her sleeves and pants covered in mud.

After a full day of peanut picking, even her shoes were filled with dirt, and when she took them off, the inside was packed into pancake-like lumps.

She finally agreed to return with Mingzhen before dark.

The next day, she continued picking peanuts. For three days straight, Qian’s playing area expanded from the tower to the nearby fields.

She had even eaten raw peanuts while picking them, still with dirt on the shells, spitting it out with a “peh, peh” sound.

She didn’t like the taste of raw peanuts, so when Venerable Master Yinhe fried the peanuts, she put them in a cloth bag and carried them around. She would eat them while walking around the tower, munching loudly.

After harvesting the peanuts, Venerable Master Yinhe plowed the field again, preparing it for planting medicinal herbs.

Qian, Mingzhen, and Mingde all helped. Mingzhen also cleared a separate piece of land, planning to learn how to grow medicinal herbs from Venerable Master Yinhe.

Before this, Mingzhen hadn’t known that Venerable Master Yinhe, who was skilled at making steamed buns and farming, was actually most proficient in “medicine.”

Qian had become so strong after a few months in the temple, thanks in no small part to his food-based remedies.

Qian, with a small hoe in hand, worked just like Mingde, digging diligently within the lines Mingzhen had drawn.

When she got tired, she would run over to the basket Venerable Master Yinhe had brought and look for something to eat.

That day, it was salted boiled peanuts, Qian’s favorite!

With the herbal tea Venerable Master Yinhe had brewed, it was cool and refreshing, perfect for the hot afternoon sun.

After two months had passed, the tower finally showed some signs of activity.

Because Wuxin hadn’t emerged for so long, Qian had recently become anxious, circling the tower again and again. Mingzhen had started to worry too, as the child would ask him more than ten times a day, “When will Dad come out?”

She asked in the morning, at lunch, before bed, and sometimes even during play. Even if he temporarily distracted her, she would still remember and ask.

Mingzhen felt like if Master Wuxin didn’t come out soon, he wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore.

On the day Wuxin emerged from the tower, Qian was still riding her small cart around. The weather had turned slightly colder, and she wore an extra jacket, with two bulging pockets filled with peanuts.

She stopped to eat some peanuts, and as she was biting into one, she saw the small door of the tower, which had been quiet for so long, finally open.

The door opened in the most ordinary way, without any sudden thunderclaps or sky-wide red clouds, just the door opening and a round head with a stubble emerging.

Before Qian could even make out what it was, she instantly ran over, dropping the peanut she had just peeled.

She cried as she hugged the Venerable Master, whom she hadn’t seen in so long, burying her face in his monk robe. After a long while, she looked up, and when she clearly saw his face, her eyes widened in shock.

Because when Venerable Master entered the tower, he was an elderly man, but now, he had transformed into a young-looking youth with a smooth face.

Wuxin now looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, much younger than Mingzhen.

“Qian, do you still recognize me?” Wuxin’s voice had also become clear and crisp.

Qian nodded and hugged him even tighter. Having once witnessed the transformation of Dog Father into Father Brother, and having watched Young Venerable Master turn old, the child naturally accepted his sudden transformation into youth.

Moreover, his demeanor and habitual movements were exactly the same as before.

After not holding the child for so long, Wuxin could tell from the feel of her in his arms that she had grown heavier.

Noticing the child’s slight hesitation, Wuxin tilted his head toward Qian, prompting her to touch his head.

Qian laughed as she touched him, “It’s so round, like a ball!”

Wuxin smiled and asked, “Isn’t it bright?”

Qian shook her head, “Not bright.”

Probably because it was so new, there was still a layer of green on it.

Holding Qian’s hand with one hand and pulling her small wooden cart with the other, Wuxin met Mingzhen and Mingde on the road.

Seeing his master now looking younger than himself, Mingzhen was somewhat shocked, reacting slower than Qian.

Qian was already holding the young Venerable Master’s hand, skipping and chatting with him nonstop. She had so much to say, chattering endlessly. Even when the peanuts in her pocket fell out while she was jumping around, she didn’t notice.

Wuxin stopped to pick them up for her, and Qian’s conversation shifted to peanuts, talking about picking them, how many she had, and which ones were tastiest.

She went on and on, even cracking open one to give him.

To the child, the father now was the one who had been lost and found again, so she wholeheartedly expressed her joy.

From time to time, Mingzhen would glance back at his unusually young master’s face. Mingde, still confused, asked, “A new Senior Disciple?”

Mingzhen replied, “No, this is our master, don’t you remember?”

Mingde looked blank.

Mingzhen tried to act calm and emphasized, “It’s Wuxin Master!”

The other monks on Bodhi Mountain, seeing such a young Buddhist Disciple, were accustomed to it, not shocked like Mingzhen. Most of them had also seen the previous “cycle” of the Buddhist Disciple.

From life to death, from youth to old age, no matter how the Buddhist Disciple changed, it was always normal.

Moreover, compared to appearance, the Buddhist Disciple’s aura was much more distinct. When they saw him, they naturally felt the pressure emanating from him.

It was obvious to everyone how happy Qian was. She had a big smile on her face, and at mealtime, she even wanted to give her noodles to Venerable Master, but Wuxin refused.

She even wanted to give him her entire steamed bun. Wuxin, still smiling, broke it in half as he always did and gave it to her.

After eating, she wanted Wuxin to play with her, pushing the cart, throwing a ball, or playing Autumn Qian… Anyway, wherever Wuxin went, she would follow.

When they bumped into monks practicing staffs, Qian insisted on joining in, mainly to show off her progress with the staff.

Wuxin nodded and suddenly picked up a staff from the side.

He stood at the front holding the staff, and the other monks immediately stepped back, admiring and eagerly watching his movements.

Wuxin’s movements were similar to their usual practice, but each of his actions carried a unique rhythm, starting slow and building speed. With each movement, his bones made light sounds.

This was the opening of his body after rebirth, activating this new form.

His body wasn’t tall, and his youthful appearance made him seem fragile, but once he started moving, the sense of power he exuded was even stronger than the most robust monk. He lifted the staff effortlessly, moving as fast as the wind.

After the sound of his bones cracking, the Buddhist Disciple finished warming up. With an ordinary staff, he split the surrounding air with a deafening crack.

The fallen leaves of the ancient trees swirled upwards with his staff’s force, only scattering in all directions after he finished his movements. The wind from Wuxin’s landing pushed outward, sweeping over the people around him, then gradually calming down.

This was the first time Qian had seen her Venerable Master father practice the staff. She called out in admiration, and demanded, “Do it again!”

One round led to another.

…

The previous victim had been a child actor who was adored by kids for his impeccable martial arts in a wuxia film.

At bedtime, after a joyful day, Qian still had a lot to say, her mouth chattering non-stop.

Wuxin sat in front of the bed, twisting a red thread into a rope. He lowered his head, and after finishing the rope, he took out a smooth white ball and strung it onto the rope.

The white ball was the size of a pigeon egg, with tiny holes all over it, looking like it was made of jade.

“What’s this?” Qian asked, holding the white ball that was tied around his neck.

“It’s my relic,” Wuxin said.

It was the relic from his many cycles of life and death, burned into this shape.

There’s a saying in the human world that children are born from their parents’ blood and bones, thus bearing a connection.

He could tell that the child’s body had been shaped by another power, which gave her life but also bound her with that power.

Wuxin gently stroked Qian’s forehead.

“I give you my bones, and others will replenish your flesh. We all wish for you to be free from restraint, to grow freely.”