Chapter 13#
Who Brews the Tea (Part 2)#
Xiao Man walked into this Dao Hall that he had visited countless times.
Every place looked no different from his memory: the rockeries and strange stones were shrouded in the night, wisteria hung low like a waterfall on the west side of the courtyard, and the bamboo rocking chair lay on the porch, unoccupied, swaying by itself in the wind, looking somewhat lonely.
Yan Wushu flicked his fingers to light the lamps throughout the Dao Hall, and the pervasive darkness was dispelled. The bamboo chair cast a shadow on the ground, rising and falling with the wind. Xiao Man stepped onto the stone steps, his hem curling and sweeping open as he crossed the threshold and entered the front hall.
“Do you know the origin of the Buddhist shrine now?” Yan Wushu followed behind Xiao Man, his gaze falling on his ebony-like hair, and asked softly.
Xiao Man: “Mm.”
Yan Wushu: “In that case, do you also have some understanding of the thing suppressed inside?”
Xiao Man’s response was still a faint: “Mm.”
The Little Phoenix was still throwing that tantrum whose reason could not be guessed.
Yan Wushu felt helpless, tapped the tip of his nose with his folding fan, and lowered his voice: “Why are you interested in it?”
It made the first move against me.
Xiao Man lowered his eyes and said in his heart.
He couldn’t tell Yan Wushu the truth, but he couldn’t tell a complete lie either. Compared to Tan Wenzhou, Yan Wushu knew him a bit better after all, so he chose a plausible reason: “That ringing sound was very piercing.”
Yan Wushu’s brow furrowed. “Piercing” was not a good word; finding it piercing meant it must have caused discomfort.
“What did you hear?” he asked.
“I’ll only know once I have a look.” Xiao Man walked straight to the Arhat couch by the east window, sat down, pulled back his right sleeve with his left hand, looked up steadily at Yan Wushu, and made a “please” gesture.
Yan Wushu sat opposite Xiao Man and took out the Buddhist shrine.
The three Dharma treasures floated on three sides of the shrine, surrounded by brilliant light and flowing spiritual energy, forming a gust of wind that blew a lock of Xiao Man’s hair resting on his shoulder.
The appearance of the Buddhist shrine was ninety percent similar to the painting Tan Wenzhou had made upon returning to Xingyun Peak. Xiao Man first took an overall look and then carefully examined the incantations on it.
There are many types of sealing techniques; naturally, different methods are used to deal with different things. Generally speaking, one can judge what kind of thing is being sealed from the seal itself, but this Buddhist shrine was too severely damaged.
Xiao Man pursed his lips, finding it somewhat difficult.
“This illusion realm can only temporarily trap it. What do you plan to do next?” Xiao Man asked Yan Wushu.
Yan Wushu supported one side of his face with one hand, flipping through a book he had taken out from his storage ring. His sitting posture was casual. Hearing Xiao Man’s question, he looked up: “I have some thoughts, but they haven’t taken shape yet.”
“So that means you haven’t found a solution yet,” Xiao Man said expressionlessly.
He returned his gaze to the shrine, no longer looking at those difficult-to-decipher patterns, and concentrated his attention behind the collapsed “door” of the shrine, trying to catch a glimpse from the cracks.
The cracks were deep and black, filled with ominous aura tempered over years, churning like thick clouds, clustering and dispersing into strange forms. Xiao Man stared at it for a long time, and suddenly his mind went blank, and he reached out his hand toward that spot.
Xiao Man’s movements seemed sluggish but were actually extremely fast. His body leaned forward at an unnatural angle, his eyes unblinking, his pitch-black pupils reflecting only the Buddhist shrine and nothing else.
He was clearly bewitched.
Yan Wushu’s brow twitched. He was quick-handed and grabbed Xiao Man’s hand, his sword fingers making a stroke in the void as he gave a low shout: “Break!”
A cold glow retracted into the Buddhist shrine.
Xiao Man’s finger trembled, and he suddenly woke up.
The black mist blocking his vision dissipated completely. Every table and chair in the Dao Hall returned to his view, and the wind blew in from the east window, ruffling the shadows of the lamps in the room. A drop of sweat fell from his temple. Xiao Man exhaled softly, his gaze shifted, and he found his hand was being held by Yan Wushu.
In an instant, a burning heat surged up. Xiao Man hurriedly withdrew his hand, placed it on his knee, lowered his eyes, and said: “Sorry… thank you.”
“This is a seal set a thousand years ago. The fact that the sealed object has survived for a thousand years without dying allows one to glimpse its strength. You have just entered the path of Dao; when facing such a thing, you must not let your guard down.”
Yan Wushu formed a sword seal and touched it to the space between Xiao Man’s brows. After giving the instructions, he muttered in a low voice: “Why is your hand so cold?”
Xiao Man pretended not to hear the last part, took the Buddhist beads from his wrist into his hand, and said softly: “I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it?” Yan Wushu showed a look of interest.
Xiao Man didn’t answer immediately but closed his eyes and turned the beads one by one.
Yan Wushu knew he was organizing his thoughts, so he didn’t rush him. He moved the Buddhist shrine on the low table to the side, set out the tea sets and tea leaves, and had his flying sword bring a pot of mountain spring water. He lit the small stove and began to boil water for tea.
Xiao Man’s upright sitting posture was reflected on the wall. His back was ramrod straight, and except for his hand turning the beads, everywhere else was completely still, as if frozen into a portrait.
But Yan Wushu saw more than just the shadow; he knew that Xiao Man would occasionally lift his eyelids to glance at the shrine, but hadn’t spared any attention to his actions.
The water on the stove boiled. Yan Wushu extinguished the fire, lifted the lid, and poured a spoonful of tea into the pot.
He was never meticulous about brewing tea—he didn’t discard the first wash and couldn’t be bothered to pre-warm the teacups. Estimating that the tea leaves had unfurled, he turned over two teacups and began to pour the tea.
“You haven’t brewed tea for a long time,” Yan Wushu said.
“I don’t like drinking tea.”
The beads had just reached one hundred and eight. Xiao Man lifted his eyelids and spoke calmly.
Yan Wushu’s movements paused. After some thought, he realized it was indeed true. Over these years, whenever there was tea in the cup, Xiao Man would always take one sip and set it down.
This Little Phoenix preferred sugar water, loved drinking sour plum soup, liked to juice watermelons, and even for fermented rice balls, he would only take a bite after adding a lot of rock sugar.
No wonder he wanted to go to Baihua Peak; Wugu Tower had all sorts of food, while Xueyi Peak only had tasteless Inedia pills.
Xiao Man wrapped the beads around his wrist a few times and hung them back. “Let’s not talk about these trifles. Let’s talk about the Buddhist shrine.”
The interior of the shrine was not peaceful; the ominous aura was struggling with the illusion realm created by the Dharma treasures. The treasures were trembling, and from time to time, waves of spiritual energy would overflow. Yan Wushu’s teacup was placed nearby; the steam rose gently and was cleared away by the waves before it could disperse.
“What did you think of?” Yan Wushu put the second teacup back, his tone a bit lower than before.
“The Supreme Compassion Divine Mantra,” Xiao Man replied softly, his gaze sweeping over the three Dharma treasures.
Yan Wushu immediately understood Xiao Man’s meaning: “You mean instead of suppressing it, it’s better to purify it?”
His gaze showed some surprise. He hadn’t not thought of purification before, but in this regard, the Daoist sects were always inferior to the Buddhist sects.
Purification requires stripping away the filth and restoring its original appearance. What was kept in this shrine was a mass of evil, ominous stuff from over a thousand years ago. The filth was already deeply rooted in its heart. Wanting it to “put down the butcher’s knife and become a Buddha” was not as straightforward as letting it out and cleaving it with a sword.
Yan Wushu did not agree with this method.
Xiao Man rose from the couch, his plain white hem turning in the low air. He fixed his gaze seriously and solemnly on Yan Wushu:
“The seal was set a thousand years ago, and the existence of this sealing method should be far more than a thousand years old. It is extremely difficult to repair such an ancient technique; even if sent to the Buddhist sects, there would be no solution for a while.”
“Your illusion realm can last for a time, but it won’t suppress it for a lifetime. There isn’t much time.”
“The Buddhist shrine was kept by the Zen Sect for a thousand years. Buddhist disciples recited sutras day and night; three hundred thousand days and nights failed to wash away its filth, which is enough to prove the path of purification is useless.” Yan Wushu shook his head at Xiao Man, speaking with some regret. “And I don’t know the Supreme Compassion Divine Mantra. We need to think of another way…”
“I do.” Xiao Man held out his hand, palm open and facing up, summoning a cluster of Phoenix True Fire. “The Supreme Compassion Divine Mantra plus Phoenix Fire—there are few evils in the world that can withstand it.”
Xiao Man’s white clothes were clean, his eyes were clear and black, and the crimson markings appearing on his forehead became the best decoration.
“But I am only in the Baoxu Realm; I need your help.”
Yan Wushu looked at Xiao Man and suddenly sighed: “If you were in the Taixuan Realm, perhaps you could burn it clean with just the Phoenix True Fire.”
“There are no ‘ifs’ in this world,” Xiao Man’s tone was cold.
“The Supreme Compassion Divine Mantra can only be learned at the ‘Seeing Buddha’ realm of the Buddhist sects. When did you…” Yan Wushu also stood up, speaking with a light laugh. With a flick of his finger, he changed the position of the shrine, making it hover in the center of the Dao Hall.
Xiao Man shook his sleeves and walked toward the shrine. “I learned it secretly at Dazhao Temple.”
Yan Wushu drew his sword to set up the formation.
The thing in the shrine was at least at the Taixuan Upper Realm, but since it hadn’t entered Taiqing, it was still Taixuan. Yan Wushu showed no fear on his face. In an instant, he struck with his sword hundreds of times, weaving a cage with sword light, trapping the shrine firmly!
Xiao Man sat cross-legged in the center of the sword formation. With a whoosh, the Phoenix Fire leapt from his palm and hovered below the shrine without falling. The flickering firelight and the spiritual glow of the other three treasures formed a four-sided siege.
Xiao Man recited the first character of the “Supreme Compassion Divine Mantra.” The shrine suddenly jolted; it was the evil spirit struggling violently, trying to break free.
When the second character was recited, Yan Wushu coordinated with his sword, and sharp sword energy crashed down wildly. That jolt turned into a miserable scream, and the struggle became a shrinking shiver.
The third character, the fourth character, the fifth character…
The first sentence, the second sentence, the third sentence…
Xiao Man’s every character was steady, every sentence calm. Buddhist light came from all directions, and the Buddhist scriptures turned into invisible sharp blades, piercing deeply into the mind of the evil, ominous thing. The deep black, hideous, and filthy things were forced to strip away. It was angry and unwilling, but every time it struggled, a sword strike would fall, with a momentum like thunder, cold, sharp, and icy. It had nowhere to escape and nowhere to hide.
The Phoenix Fire was also so scorching. The flame was not large, just a small cluster about the size of several fingers joined together, but it was unhurried and patient, breathing out high heat to roast it.
The wind was blocked outside the sword formation and could not blow into the hall.
The lamps in the Dao Hall were extinguished one by one, not daring to compete with the True Fire. Yet this place was extremely bright: the Buddhist light was holy, the firelight was brilliant, and the light of spiritual energy was tranquil.
Yan Wushu stood beside Xiao Man with his sword, watching his plain white robes and his ramrod-straight back. Suddenly, he felt this person was exceptionally thin.
Too thin.
Time passed inch by inch. After a long while, daylight flooded the mountains, and a clear breeze brushed past the window.
It began to rain outside.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Raindrops fell one after another, soaking the road paved with bluestone slabs, wetting the courtyard where the flowers had already withered. The bamboo chair on the porch swayed incessantly.
Inside the Dao Hall, the Phoenix True Fire, after a night of slow accumulation, suddenly flared up, engulfing the entire Buddhist shrine in tongues of fire.
Torment.
Torment!
An extremely shrill scream came from the shrine, sharp enough to pierce the eardrums, followed immediately by a sword strike that suppressed it all.
In the next moment.
Clatter—
The Buddhist shrine, which was burned down to just a frame, fell to the ground, breaking into extremely fine pieces. A translucent soul floated out from inside, looking timidly at Xiao Man.
This soul did not look like the human race; it had horns on its head and a long tail behind it, but it was bald and had no fur.
“It’s you?” Xiao Man asked it.
The soul made a “gurgle” sound, seemingly not understanding human speech. Xiao Man’s expression remained unchanged. After watching it for a while, he took the Buddhist beads from his wrist.
This soul obediently and consciously drifted into the beads.
Xiao Man let out a sigh of relief and turned his head to glance out the window. Seeing the sky was bright, he couldn’t help but frown.
Having burned the Phoenix True Fire all night, he was considerably exhausted. But the holiday had ended, and there were classes at Baihua Peak today; he had to force himself to stay alert.
Just as he was about to stand up, a hand pressed down on his shoulder: “Your realm has improved; you are now in the Baoxu Upper Realm. Don’t be in a hurry to move; stabilize your realm first."