Trapped in a crowd, once crushing and trampling momentum forms, escape becomes nearly impossible. Though human flesh is soft, when layered together under extreme pressure, it compresses like iron plates grinding against each other, suffocating. If one accidentally falls, they’re immediately trampled into pulp by others.
With no time to discuss strategy, Wei Xun swept up Bao Zhu with his left arm, grabbed Yang Xingjian’s belt with his right hand, and leaped upward, leaving the ground. The three positions they vacated were instantly filled by other bodies.
He carried the two onto the long rope left hanging in the air by tightrope walkers, first setting down Yang Xingjian. Old Yang had no tightrope walking skills – though temporarily escaping the danger of being trampled into paste, he was in a sorry state, limbs wrapped around the thin hemp rope hanging in mid-air, his cap fallen off, wailing like a ghost, though his shouts couldn’t be heard clearly over the surrounding noise.
After briefly hesitating about where to place Bao Zhu, she had already put her mouth to his ear and shouted: “Go higher! The higher the better!”
Wei Xun obeyed, holding her horizontally in his arms and racing along the long rope as if on level ground, flying toward the nearest pagoda. His Mirage Step lightness skill was unparalleled in the world – though carrying someone, he was still swift as lightning. Bao Zhu only felt strong wind rushing past her ears, scenery flying by, and in the blink of an eye, he had begun climbing the tower.
With several bounds, he swept up the five-story pagoda like a wisp of blue smoke. Wei Xun set down Bao Zhu and asked: “Is this high enough?”
They were thirty zhang from the ground, standing on precarious roof tiles. Bao Zhu quickly embraced the pagoda’s spire. After Wei Xun ensured she was steady, he immediately prepared to leap down again, but Bao Zhu grabbed his sleeve.
“Rescuing one by one won’t be fast enough! Let me survey the area first.”
Standing atop the pagoda, all of Changling Temple came into view. Night had already shrouded the earth, but fortunately it was a festival day with oil lamps lit everywhere. Bao Zhu’s eyesight was excellent – she spotted a closed side gate on the platform’s southwest side. Though many pilgrims lingered near the wall, pressed against it almost like murals by the crowd, no one was seen opening the gate.
“There!” Bao Zhu pointed, and without waiting for explanation, Wei Xun shot out like an arrow from her hand, diving down from the pagoda top. The side gate wasn’t used daily and was secured with an iron chain. Wei Xun reached out and twisted forcefully, breaking the lock with a snap, then somersaulted and kicked powerfully, smashing open the rusted door panels.
Suddenly having an escape route, people trapped nearby immediately streamed out. Over a hundred people successfully fled, relieving pressure on the platform’s southwest corner. But in the dim, chaotic environment, people elsewhere still couldn’t find exits like headless flies.
Wei Xun ran along the wall tops, and when he saw people carrying children on their shoulders, he reached out to lift them up, letting them sit on the wall. He tried pulling people away from the wall edges, but they were already compressed into a solid mass by layers of bodies – any force caused them to scream in agony as their arms nearly broke.
After pulling out several people like yanking scallions, many elderly, weak, or short people had already suffocated and passed out. Though unconscious, their bodies didn’t fall – when people beside them saw their neighbors rolling their eyes and foaming at the mouth, they became even more terrified and wailed loudly.
Only after running a complete circuit did Wei Xun understand why a mere floating corpse had caused such a disaster. Due to traditional customs, temple gate thresholds were all higher than an adult’s knee – normally one had to slow down to step over them, and elderly people and children needed assistance.
After the floating corpse appeared in the release pond, nearby people scrambled to escape. People on the periphery didn’t know the reason, but seeing the fleeing people’s terrified faces, panic spread in waves. The horrified crowd tried to return via the main gate they’d entered through.
But the high threshold not only slowed escape but caused some people with mobility issues to trip there. Later people continued tripping over those in front, with layers of bodies directly blocking the gate. People behind didn’t know why the exit was blocked, their fear intensified, and they desperately pushed forward, making the congestion extremely difficult to clear.
Meanwhile, on the Lingzhi Platform suspended above the release pond, the four monks Shan Chuan Yun Chao were equally at a loss. Guest prefect Guan Yun leaned over to look at the unrecognizable floating corpse in the release pond, murmuring: “Who is that water ghost?”
Guan Chao said urgently: “Don’t worry about who it is! If this continues, even more people will die!”
Superintendent monk Guan Shan saw Wei Xun kick open the side gate from afar, picked up a conch shell, and shouted toward the crowd: “The gate on the southwest side is open! Go that way quickly!”
Though the conch had amplification effects, that was in quiet surroundings. With the current din of voices and continuous screams, no one could hear his commands.
Tan Lin pondered silently for a while, then beckoned Guan Chuan closer and said in a low voice: “Make the fearless sound to stop the crowd.”
Guan Chuan was startled, then understood his master’s meaning. He had his three brothers help Tan Lin to a corner and each cover their ears. Guan Chuan walked to the edge of the Lingzhi Platform, clenched his fist, inhaled, circulated his internal energy, and veins bulged on his neck.
A thunderous lion’s roar echoed through the sky, shaking heaven and earth with deafening force. Roof tiles fell from surrounding buildings, the trampling crowd in the platform area was shocked and dismayed. Yang Xingjian trembled all over in fright, Bao Zhu hugged the pagoda spire tightly to avoid falling, and people closer even shuddered and vomited from the sound.
“Namo fundamental teacher Shakyamuni Buddha! Namo Indestructible Vajra Buddha! Namo Lion Sound Tathagata! Namo Freedom from Fear Tathagata! When this life ends, may we all be reborn in the Pure Land!”
Guan Chuan was like a lion before Buddha, using supremely powerful internal skill to roar out this Buddhist invocation, stabilizing the souls of thousands of frightened people, then continued gathering energy to loudly proclaim:
“The water ghost has been subdued by my respected master Tan Lin! Various gods and Buddhas are present for protection – everyone need not panic, all stand in place!”
Whether soothed by the sacred Buddhist invocation or simply awed by the lion’s roar, people behind stopped pushing, and the wailing and screaming also weakened. Changling Temple was a large monastery with nearly a thousand monks – monks outside the platform area came to disperse and rescue, setting up ladders to lift down the human wall stacked at the main gate one by one.
Hearing Guan Chuan’s roar, Wei Xun had a thoughtful expression but his hands and feet didn’t stop moving. He whistled to guide people near the side gate through, immediately helping up anyone who fell to prevent the same human pileup that blocked the main gate.
With over a thousand people dispersed, pressure in the platform area immediately decreased. Many people came to their senses and realized the frightening thing was just an ordinary drowning corpse commonly seen in the Luo River – it only caused unexpected panic transmission and disaster because it appeared in the center of the magical water painting “Hell Transformation” on Ullambana night when ghosts wandered.
When Wei Xun brought Bao Zhu down from the pagoda top, the crowd had completely dispersed. Countless shoes, pouches, caps, and other items were scattered on the ground. Injured people were carried to guest quarters to rest. After counting the dead, seven had died from trampling and suffocation.
Plus the unnamed floating corpse in the release pond.
That night, superintendent monk Guan Shan settled the wounded and came to the guest hall to convey Tan Lin’s regards. Yang Xingjian was still shaken, holding a cup to drink water with hands trembling so much that tea splashed everywhere. He casually replied: “This was an accident. Please tell the master not to worry – we’ll leave Changling Temple for Luoyang first thing tomorrow morning.”
Guan Shan hesitated slightly, then said apologetically: “Besides condolences, the master has another request – he’d like the blue-robed knight traveling with you to come to the Hall of Returning to Impermanence to help investigate the truth of this tragedy.”
Yang Xingjian pointed at Wei Xun in surprise: “Him?”
Wei Xun said mockingly: “The truth is your poor management and insatiable greed – you shouldn’t have gathered so many people in one place to collect money. What does it have to do with me? Besides, if you want to borrow martial artists’ help, you already have a top expert.”
Following Tan Lin’s instructions to treat any criticism with courtesy, Guan Shan said sincerely: “Brother Guan Chuan has been away from worldly affairs for a long time. These years he only chants scriptures and guards master, not participating in anything else. He’s truly helpless with this matter.”
Bao Zhu had been blown by cold wind atop the thirty-zhang pagoda for a long time and was similarly shaken and weak-legged. After drinking several cups of tea to calm her nerves, she finally felt her soul return to her body. After considering for a moment, she said to Guan Shan: “If Tan Lin agrees to my conditions, I’ll have Wei Lang help, otherwise no deal.”
Guan Shan was startled and glanced at Yang Xingjian, who just drank tea without speaking. He thought that among this group, Yang was clearly a court official, yet it seemed his daughter was the actual leader calling the shots.
This was the first time Wei Xun heard her call him “Wei Lang” in front of outsiders, and he was momentarily stunned, also falling silent.
Guan Shan assessed the situation and respectfully asked Bao Zhu: “What are your instructions, madam?”
Bao Zhu was blunt in her demand: “Take all the rice, grain, and wealth collected in today’s ullambana basins and use it all for disaster relief. Then I’ll help you investigate the truth.”
Guan Shan was shocked: “Those are offerings to honor Buddha and feed monks – how could they be used casually?”
Bao Zhu couldn’t be bothered to debate with him and waved dismissively while drinking tea.
Seeing no room for negotiation, Guan Shan didn’t dare decide on his own and withdrew to consult with Tan Lin.
Bao Zhu said: “This morning when the Wu family sugar shop people came demanding their daughter, I initially thought that corpse was the missing Wu Gui’er. But even in the dim river lantern light, you could see that corpse was exceptionally large – probably a giant with an unusual physique.”
Wei Xun shook his head in denial: “A person of ordinary build would swell to that size after soaking in water for several days. Whether male or female, we’d need to examine body details. I estimate after the pilgrims are sent away, the monks will start retrieving the floating corpse.”
Yang Xingjian dry-heaved and just wanted to immediately return to his room and lie down, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
After a long while, Guan Shan returned with a reply: “Master has agreed. Please come for a face-to-face discussion.”
Finally hearing good news after setbacks, Bao Zhu’s spirits lifted. Though she detested the Hall of Returning to Impermanence’s odor and murals, she still endured her fatigue and brought Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian to see Tan Lin.
Tonight the great hall was brightly lit. Though Tan Lin had retired as a third-rank scattered official drawing court salary, such a major accident still required reporting the circumstances to officials. Fortunately, local administrator Henan Prefecture Governor Dou Jing had left early due to indisposition – otherwise involving him in death or injury would be irreparable.
Tan Lin’s legs had been unable to support his body for several years, requiring others’ assistance to move. To handle this crisis-filled Ullambana night, he was placed on a lotus seat, relying on the wooden seat to support his ailing frame. The powerful Guan Chuan still sat beside him as usual, like a guardian deity before Buddha.
Bao Zhu sat on a cushion directly facing Tan Lin, while Wei Xun faced off with Guan Chuan.
Tan Lin studied her carefully for a moment, then said slowly: “I hear Lady Fangxie has a compassionate heart and vows to use ullambana offerings for disaster relief. Unfortunately, the grain transport disruption affects millions – this rice and grain can only feed a thousand people one meal and won’t last until the next day before they’re hungry and suffering again.”
Bao Zhu was unmoved: “Those thousand people will thank you today. Who knows what opportunities tomorrow might bring? If the Tongji Canal reopens, one round of Jianghuai grain transport only takes forty days. Someday, everyone will have enough to eat.”
Tan Lin gazed at her youthful, confident face and smiled slightly: “This old monk was born in the Kaiyuan era and was fortunate to witness the Tang dynasty’s golden age. Even in times when ‘rice flows with fat, millet gleams white, public and private granaries are all abundant,’ there was no such thing as ‘everyone having enough to eat.’ During the Zhenguan reign’s good governance and Kaiyuan prosperity, even in good years with favorable weather, thirty percent of people still had to tighten their belts, barely maintaining themselves above starvation.”
This completely overturned Bao Zhu’s previous understanding and even touched on the Li Tang imperial family’s pride. Full of indignation, she blurted out: “You’re talking nonsense!”
Tan Lin ignored the accusation and said calmly: “This old monk served in the Ministry of Public Works for over forty years, specifically managing unimportant practical affairs like military colonies, irrigation, forestry, and miscellaneous products. No one knows these matters better than I do. The Lotus Sutra says: ‘The three realms are not peaceful, like a burning house full of various sufferings, very frightening. There are always worries of birth, aging, sickness, and death – such fires burn continuously without cease.’
The Tang dynasty has lasted two hundred years. In the Luoyang region alone, records show over forty floods, over thirty droughts, plus countless earthquakes, locust swarms, and wind disasters. Year after year, day after day, people will always starve to death – this is the destined suffering of the saha world. Only enlightenment can escape this blazing house.”
He sighed deeply, seeming to recall the past: “You’re still young. When we were young, we all harbored grand ambitions to ‘feed every person in the world.’ Now approaching death, looking back on those days, I still find my former naivety laughable.”
His gaze turned to Wei Xun as he said slowly: “Except for your master Chen Shigu.”