Seeing Jue Yuan enraged, Yun Ye didn’t care. He stood up and headed toward the abbot’s residence. It was close to the guest quarters. Following the scent of medicine, after turning through two or three corridors, Yun Ye arrived at a place deep among flowers and trees.
A young monk was decocting medicine under the house veranda, gently fanning the pinewood fire with a cattail-leaf fan. The black clay pot bubbled and gurgled, while his refined face showed neither joy nor sorrow.
Yun Ye rudely barged into the abbot’s room. Even Old Monk Tanyin became angry, and Monk Jue Yuan clenched his fists until they creaked. The young monks attending in the room stood up to throw him out, but were blocked by Cheng Chumo.
Monk Yulin, who had been sitting cross-legged on the meditation platform forming hand seals, suddenly opened his eyes. After chanting “Amitabha Buddha,” he said to Yun Ye: “This poor monk wondered who it would be. I didn’t expect it would actually be Marquis Yun. Truly Buddha has manifested—this poor monk has been waiting for quite some time.”
Yun Ye paid no attention to what the old monk said. He grabbed the old monk’s wrist to feel his pulse and found it strong and powerful, even better than his own pulse. Dying would be difficult for him.
“Old monk, you’re finished. Looking at your pulse, living past one hundred years wouldn’t be difficult. Now it’s perfect—you’ll have to die even if you don’t want to.” Yun Ye wore an expression of schadenfreude.
Tanyin and Jue Yuan were just about to speak when Monk Yulin shooed them out. Cheng Chumo was also pulled out by Tanyin grabbing his collar, unable to even resist. Niu Jianhu was quite self-aware—hearing Yun Ye speak, he knew the matter wasn’t simple and pulled Dan Ying out as well. Only Monk Yulin and Yun Ye remained in the room. Yun Ye sprawled out his limbs lying on the wooden floor and said lazily: “Old monk, you’ve bragged too much, haven’t you? Now you’re reaping what you’ve sown. Why bet your own lifespan for no good reason? Now someone’s come to collect the wager—how will you pay up?”
Yulin also yawned and reclined on his side on the meditation platform. His white eyebrows twitched once, and he actually made a funny face. This action startled Yun Ye, who rolled over and sat up saying: “Old monk, are you really not afraid of death? Or are you planning to renege on your debt?”
“This poor monk has lived a full ninety years this year. In three more days, I’ll celebrate my ninety-first birthday. Living a few more years or a few less years—what does it matter? Marquis Yun, you’re not qualified enough to scare this old monk.”
Yun Ye sighed. Who could have imagined that this generation’s eminent monk of great virtue now lived like a rascal—impervious to water and fire, invulnerable to blades and spears.
“Marquis Yun, as long as His Majesty agrees to issue ten percent more ordination certificates to Buddhism each year and our temple properties aren’t violated by the secular world, you can immediately carry this old monk off to be cremated. You might even pick up a few sarira relics to enshrine in your family temple—quite glorious indeed.”
“When you spoke with His Majesty last time, that’s not what you said. Opening your mouth it was Buddha, closing it was Buddha. You played with Chan riddles so profoundly, your words so obscure and difficult to understand—I couldn’t make out what you were actually saying at all. Now you speak like a rascal. What’s the explanation?”
Yun Ye just couldn’t understand—the old monk’s cultivation was profound, and knowing his own death date would be no difficulty. Why insist on making a joke of his own life?
“This old monk has chanted Buddha’s name for eighty years. To me, dog shit is Buddha, mud is Buddha, rascals are also Buddha. I manifest in ten thousand forms. Right now I’m a rascal—what can you do about it?”
After speaking, to appear more like a rascal, he actually rolled up his sleeves, pulled out a piece of date cake from the basket, and ate it with relish. Yun Ye wasn’t to be outdone and also pulled out a piece. Neither of them touched the half piece on top.
“Old monk, why don’t you eat the half piece on top but specifically eat the complete one underneath?”
“Aren’t you also not touching it? That half piece carries the smell of livestock—only half the flavor remains. This old monk likes things to have a beginning and end, not to quote out of context.”
Hearing these words, the cake in Yun Ye’s hand fell to the ground in fright. He asked Yulin with difficulty: “How did you know that the other half was fed to my Wang Cai?” Little Shishi had only broken off half to feed Wang Cai without biting it herself. How did he know? Could it be that he truly had divine powers?
“You worldly children are always making mountains out of molehills. Why do you always think of simple things in complicated ways? Couldn’t it simply be that Shishi told this old monk? She’s an obedient and well-behaved good child, rarely intelligent and perceptive—how could she tell lies?”
Yun Ye’s face flushed red—it was indeed somewhat embarrassing. But in front of a famous charlatan like Yulin, who wouldn’t think of things in complicated terms? He had been certain that this old monk had divine powers and could observe a single detail to know the whole story—never thinking that someone else had told him.
“Old monk, your Buddhist community sells emperors back and forth. In the end, instead of becoming Buddha, they’re starved to death alive. With such a precedent, which emperor wouldn’t be wary of your Buddhism? His Majesty hasn’t completely wiped out Buddhism—that’s already because of Shaolin Temple’s sake. Yet you still dare to threaten him with your life when he’s in his most difficult time. Now karma comes full circle—what more do you have to say, old monk?”
For the first time, Yulin showed a pained expression. After chanting a Buddha’s name, he said to Yun Ye: “The matter of Emperor Wu of Liang was indeed the Buddhist community’s fault. A fanatical believer who devoutly trusted Buddha was destroyed alive by those Buddhist scoundrels for mere pearls, jade, tiles, and stones, causing everyone under heaven to harbor overwhelming resentment toward Buddhism. Du Men, Fa Yuan—you are sinners of Buddhism. Originally, if only you had helped Emperor Wu stabilize the realm and enrich the people, a pure Buddhist nation would have appeared. The good deed of accumulating hundreds of millions of incense and faith was ruined alive by a few copper coins. That Buddhism suffers today’s disaster stems from greed. Every peck and drink has long been predetermined. Now is the time for Buddhism to pay the price. Marquis Yun, this old monk’s stinking skin and bones cannot repay the karmic debt, but if it can repay even one ten-thousandth, this old monk will certainly accept execution with a smile.”
The old monk had no other path to take now. Different from history, the current Li Er treated Buddhism even more harshly. Temple properties were beginning to require taxation. Shaving children’s heads carried the same crime as human trafficking. The government wished it had eight eyes every day to constantly watch the temples. Those years of accumulated wealth, plus the gains from lending, were absolutely enormous fortunes. As long as monks slightly overstepped, they would invite temple destruction. If this continued, within fifty years, Buddhism would have to withdraw from the Central Plains. Moreover, the Daoist community attacked and squeezed out Buddhism everywhere. Followers were gradually decreasing. Once the foundation was destroyed, there would be no possibility of seeing daylight again.
“Your Buddhism occupies all the famous mountains under heaven. The construction of Tiewalin Rock Temple in the third year of Zhenguan shocked the world even more—consuming one hundred thousand catties of refined iron. When lightning struck it, the molten iron flowed, its brilliance illuminating nine provinces. Just from this one point, one can see how deep your Buddhism’s foundation is, how powerful its capabilities are. Old monk, your Buddhism is too greedy for wealth yet provides not the slightest benefit to the world. If His Majesty doesn’t make an example of you, who will he make an example of?”
Yun Ye sat up and began to converse seriously with the old monk. This was a task assigned by Li Er and Zhangsun. When news reached Chang’an that Monk Yulin was gravely ill, Li Er remembered that he had once said to Yulin that if Yulin could accurately predict his own death date, he would consider leaving Buddhism a thread of survival. Yulin immediately said he wouldn’t live past ninety. Now hearing news of Yulin’s grave illness, how could he not understand that this was Yulin urging him to honor his promise? Since Yun Ye was going to Shaolin Temple to offer incense, he might as well complete the task at the same time. Li Er’s bottom line was that Buddhism must control its scale, must pay taxes and fees, must not participate in worldly business operations, and should focus on chanting Buddha’s name.
Yulin’s expression became increasingly bitter. From Yun Ye’s tone, he heard Li Er’s tough attitude. Even if he died on schedule this time and Li Er honored his promise to leave a thread of survival, who could guarantee things wouldn’t become even stricter in the future? Now the four hundred and eighty temples of the Southern Dynasty were already overgrown with wild grass, and Buddhist temples had become places where ghosts and foxes dwelled. The government and Daoist community pressed like burning fire. Buddhism’s status had plummeted, no longer possessing its former glory.
“Amitabha Buddha. This poor monk has already done everything in his power. May all the sins under heaven be attributed to my body. Let a mass of red lotus fire burn away all the sins of Buddhism. Since Marquis Yun has come, why not bear witness for this poor monk?”
After saying this, Yulin reverted to that devil-may-care form—or rather, what he called his rascal form.
“Who has the heart to watch an old monk being burned? I came to Shaolin Temple to pray for a son. The Yun Family is sparsely populated. If I watch you burn to death with my own eyes and even pick up a few sarira relics to take home and sell for money, I might never be able to have children in this lifetime. So I won’t care about this matter. Burn yourself if you want. The Yun Family doesn’t dare want your unlucky sarira relics.”
Brilliant light flashed in Yulin’s eyes. He leaned down and said quietly: “Marquis Yun is someone born gathering all the spiritual wisdom under heaven, a phoenix feather and unicorn horn among people. I’ve never heard of a qilin giving birth to seven or eight in one litter. You’ll have offspring, but definitely not many. Only pigs give birth to seven or eight chaotically. Seven or eight pigs naturally cannot compare with one qilin. Does Marquis Yun have any brilliant strategy to save my Buddhism?”
Hearing Yulin’s wild metaphors, Yun Ye finally released the stifled breath in his chest and said to Yulin: “What is the fundamental source of religion? You’ve betrayed your own faith and walked further and further down the wrong path—why should you expect a good outcome?”
“Marquis Yun’s words are mistaken. Buddha never forces others to do what they don’t like. Buddha only tells sentient beings what is good and what is evil. Good and evil must still be chosen by oneself; life must still be controlled by oneself. So there is no so-called fundamental source—only emptiness.”
Yun Ye hadn’t expected Yulin to explain Buddhist teachings this way and couldn’t help but become greatly interested. He said to Yulin again: “According to your explanation, learning Buddhism is just learning to be human. How do you view those monks who chant sutras with crooked mouths? They seem to be the mainstream of your Buddhism. Temples are built magnificently, fearing Buddha statues aren’t large enough, fearing incense offerings aren’t prosperous enough. On the surface they’re dignified and respectable, but behind the scenes filth runs rampant. Old monk, if you don’t reform Buddhism, even if you escape this calamity, sooner or later you’ll be spurned by everyone.”
“When righteous people practice evil methods, the evil methods become righteous. When evil people practice righteous methods, the righteous methods become evil. Everything is created by the mind.” Monk Yulin seemed to have transformed again into an eminent monk of great virtue, sitting there with solemn dignity, making Yun Ye extremely doubtful whether he had seen wrongly.
“Adaptability has always been the reason Buddhism hasn’t declined for two thousand years. Since Buddhism appeared in India, it has experienced countless storms yet still flourishes without decline. When Buddhist teachings crossed east, how many virtuous monks reformed them repeatedly, removing the dross and keeping the essence? This has caused myriad teachings to flourish across our Great Tang territory. Everyone has thoughts of reform, yet not one person has taken action. Marquis Yun, this old monk lacks an opportunity.”
“The opportunity will come. There’s a monk even more foolish than you who has traveled ten thousand li to India, wanting to change the current situation of myriad conflicting teachings you mentioned. I estimate he should return in the next year or two. At that time, however you revise Buddhist scriptures and reform doctrines won’t be my concern. Once these words leave this room, I’ll completely forget them and only remember that I came to Shaolin Temple to offer incense.”