93 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coin Niches -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 93

 Chapter 93: Peace for a Hundred Years (IV)

    Daze Temple, on Mt. Jiangsong, was a small rural monastery that had been built some three hundred years ago. Its location was so remote that it had never truly flourished to gain that permanent cloud of melancholy incense that most temples had. No more than ten monks lived there, and they were mostly calm, simple people, so life was not too difficult. Around two hundred years ago, before the flash of lightning destroyed the temple, the monks numbered five or six. Their backs were hunched with age; they had all lived out their entire lives in that mountain. The only young person in the temple was the new initiate, a youth from Nanjiang.

    To be perfectly honest, at the time, the group of elderly monks would look on with kindness and pity at that Nanjiang youth, thinking, This boy must be extraordinarily stupid. There are so many famous and wealthy monasteries out there –– why had he chosen to come to Daze Temple?

    The Nanjiang youth had a handsome, fresh face, with tall brows and shapely cheekbones. His black eyes shone with a calmness and stability unusual for his age.

    With a face like that, any monastery would want him as an initiate. Yet he had to pick the tiny one on Mt. Jiangsong.

    Naturally, the elderly monks did not mind, and were happy to have him –– but was he happy? So they'd asked. 

    The youth had responded, I'm fated to come to Daze Temple.

    But before he had had the chance to take his oath, that fated Daze Temple of his was struck by a bolt of lightning and caught fire.

    Everyone in the temple died, except for the Nanjiang youth.

    Much, much later, that youth happened to meet another young man around the same age, and the two became intimate friends. Many years after that, the youth moved into the Ministry of Ceremonies and became the Great Priest, charged with protecting the entire empire from disaster and securing good fortune. 

    Because that intimate friend of his had a special status: when they'd first met, he'd only been the crown prince; later, he became the emperor.

    Many years after that, the emperor's life was coming to an end, and the Great Priest unable to accept losing his closest friend, found a way to extend the emperor's life. But it took him too long to develop the spell: by the time it was ready, the divine son of Heaven had already ascended.

    The Great Priest was inconsolable. But he did not forget the promise that he had made with his closest friend: to protect the land for a hundred years.

    But ordinary people did not live that long, and, in trying to find a way to extend the emperor's life, the Great Priest had exhausted himself, and his own life was now flickering. 

    Thus he did some divinations, then went back to Daze Temple on Mt. Songjiang, where he found his successor.

    He wanted to honor his friend's wishes, and make sure that, no matter what happened to the imperial dynasty, there would always be a star burning with an eternal flame, lighting the way for the empire, guiding the spirit of the people. He changed his Buddhist name to Tongdeng, which meant lantern companion, and decided to hand it down by the generations.

    But when he'd first brought his successor home from Daze Temple, the successor had still been an infant with no teeth. He couldn't even speak.

    Tongdeng was too formal a name for a child, and might not be auspicious if he wanted the child to live past infancy. Besides, they still had many years to go until the mantle was passed on. So the Great Priest gave the child a more appropriate Buddhist name: Xuanmin.

    There was something special about Xuanmin. The child had been born with the Buddha's bones in his body, the sign of having been blessed with great virtue. The Buddha's bones would stay with him in all of his lives, passed on from life to life. 

    Although the Great Priest was a man of few words when it came to his daily affairs, he had in fact much to say to young Xuanmin. Soon, Xuanmin became not just a discipline, but a friend.

    Perhaps it was incidental or perhaps it was the Great Priest's intention, but as he raised and taught the child over the years, few people ever came into the secret courtyard. Few people got to see the Great Priest's true face, and even fewer people knew of Xuanmin's existence.

    Many years later, Xuanmin grew up and successfully took over as Tongdeng. And the Great Priest, who, since the emperor's death, had had little left to live for, finally passed into nirvana.

    His long life had been somewhat eventful, but if he really thought about it, all he'd had was a single intimate friend, and a single disciple... but it was enough for a full life. Yet some part of him could not let go of Mt. Jiangsong, and Daze Temple...

    Even though the strike of lightning all those years ago really had been a coincidence, and had had nothing to do with him, the rumors about the bad luck he'd brought to the elderly monks had followed him around everywhere. He could not help but feel a faint sense of guilt when he thought of Daze Temple.

    Even after he passed away, he could not let go. So... he 'stayed' there. Each year, on New Year's, and during Qingming Festival and Ghost Festival, he would light lanterns for the souls of the elderly monks who had smiled at him kindly, a century ago now.

    He was like a ghost but not a ghost; like a soul but not a soul; like a spirit but not a spirit; no one could see him, not even wizards, nor exorcists, nor fortune-tellers with yin-yang vision.

    So to humans, it looked as though, a few times a year, the temple would suddenly become bathed in light. It terrified them, and no one dared come close, calling it a haunted temple.

    Today was the seventeenth day of the twelfth month. The devastating battle on Mt. Jiangsong felt like it had only taken place yesterday, but in fact, more than half a month had passed.

    The destroyed scene at the foot of the mountain had long been cleared away, and then an enormous blizzard buried all remaining traces that anything had ever happened there. It was a scene of peace again.

    Night fell. In the darkness, the abandoned temple suddenly lit up with exactly six small flames.

    "The ghost flames! The ghost flames are back, brother!" Far from Daze Temple along the mountain range, in the small monastery, the little novice leant by of the window and stuck his head out into the night, looking toward Mt. Jiangsong and gesturing at his disciple brother to come take a look.

    The ghost flames appeared at inconsistent times, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. It was rare to actually catch a glimpse. The little novice had lived at the monastery for more than ten years now, but this was only his second time witnessing the ghost flames.

    The rumors made the ghost flames sound horrifying, but when he actually looked at them, he did not feel any fear at all. The flames glowed with a honey warmth, and not only did they not disturb the viewer, they actually instilled a sense of serenity.

    And in reality, Daze Temple did not contain any negative or demonic energy at all.

    Those six peace lanterns, with those 'flames that appeared on their own', were in fact being lit by a monk dressed in white robes. He carefully tended to the cores of the flames, but no one could see him do it, except for another person who was in the same situation as he.

    The lantern-lighting monk was none other than the Nanjiang youth who, centuries ago, had climbed the mountain and entered this temple as an initiate, who went on to become the Great Priest: the real Tongdeng.

    And the person who was in the same situation as he, the only person who could see him, was also present in the temple at that moment. This person also wore white monk's robes, and looked like a ghost without being a ghost; like a soul without being a soul. He sat cross-legged on a prayer mat in the corner of the hall, pale-faced, eyes closed, as though meditating.

    Although he looked like a ghost, the haunted air could not mask the pleasant attractiveness of his face, nor that frost-like aloofness.

    He was Xuanmin.

    Tongdeng finished lighting the lanterns and stood calmly in front of them, clasping his hands together in a Buddhist greeting. Then, with a sweep of his sleeve, he turned around and walked toward Xuanmin. In the dim light of the six lanterns, he glanced over at Xuanmin left hand, resting lightly on his own knee. 

    Between two of the fingers on that hand, Tongdeng could see a mole, so small that it looked like the prick of a needle, though it was slightly globulous in form and jutted out from the skin. This mole matched that on Xue Xian's collarbone.

    "Your mole has appeared," Tongdeng said, glaring at Xuanmin. "I still can't believe you thought of doing something like that in such a moment. Getting the spider, having it bite you, then having it bite him, all in the time it would take to say a single sentence. You might as well have used that last bit of energy to struggle a bit more, maybe given him some final words, a final request."

   Xuanmin's eyelids remained shut, and his lips made no movement. It was unclear whether he had heard Tongdeng at all, or if he was simply ignoring his forebear.

    "This spider may not be as poisonous as the Spider of the Same Age, but it's still not exactly comfortable. Do you let these things bite you for fun these days?" Tongdeng added coolly. 

    Xuanmin was silent for a time, then finally, still without opening his eyes, spoke. "You created these spiders."

    Which really meant: So don't go around warning others about getting bitten.

    After Xuanmin had taken his final breath, he'd fallen unconscious, and when he'd woken up, it had been right here in the abandoned Daze Temple. Around two days ago, he'd succeeded in crafting a bodily form, and it had taken another day for that form to stabilise. In those two days, he had not opened his eyes, nor was it easy for him to speak, but could listen as someone near him spoke.

    As he listened to that voice weave in and out, he discovered that this was the first Great Priest Tongdeng, and his own shifu in his previous life. And the two kinds of spiders that lived in the Cave of a Hundred Insects had been bred by this very monk.

    Xuanmin had only ever previously experienced the bite of the Spider of the Same Age. Many, many years ago, before he'd retreated from the secret courtyard to his small bamboo building, he had realised that something about Zuhong's fate had changed –– the number of years Zuhong had left in life had increased. Although, when inside the secret courtyard, Zuhong had stopped removing his mask, Xuanmin could still tell by the disappearing wrinkles on his predecessor's neck that Zuhong was getting physically younger. 

    At the time, Xuanmin hadn't known what to think, but he'd wondered if Zuhong's transformation had had something to do with himself. In that period, whenever Zuhong spoke to him, it was in a profound tone, as though Zuhong felt like he owed Xuanmin something –– there was even a slight tinge of gratitude.

    But, at the time, he still greatly respected his master, so even though he had noticed something was amiss, he had not minded it.

    Much later, when Xuanmin came to know the truth about the Spider of the Same Age, Zuhong then went further and greedily extracted those dragon bones –– and after that, Xuanmin had lost his memories. So the whole 'confronting Zuhong about ensnaring him with a Spider of the Same Age' thing had gotten delayed, and had only been resolved at the very end of Zuhong's life.

    But now he had time to think it all through. Xuanmin had always been an extremely reserved person, and there were very few opportunities for anyone to get close enough to him to plant a spider. The only time was...

    The autumn before he left the secret courtyard for good and allowed Zuhong to replace him as Great Priest. He'd been meditating, and he had accidentally wandered into a meditation trap spell and fallen unconscious for three days and three nights. Back then, he'd trusted Zuhong completely, so if Zuhong had wanted to plant the spider on him, he could very well have done it then.

    But no matter. His physical body was dead. This was all history now, things from his past life.

    Today, the mole on his body was no longer that of the Spider of the Same Age, but a bite from the second type of spider found at the Cave of a Hundred Insects.

    Tongdeng's original goal had been to develop the Spider of the Same Age; the second type had been an accidental byproduct. This spider represented the depressed and troubled state of mind that Tongdeng had been in when he'd made it, and he hadn't known what to call the breed, so had settled on Wuming, anonymous.

    In the Cave, Xue Xian had asked offhand what the Wuming Spider did, if it really could link three lives together like in the rumors.

    Xuanmin had said no.

    He hadn't been lying; the spider really did not have anything to do with three lives.

    The Spider of the Same Age consisted of a mother spider and a son spider; the Wuming Spider was a pair of fortune and misfortune spiders. The red spider signified fortune, and the black spider signified misfortune. The tiny mole on Xuanmin's hand came from the black spider, and the mole on Xue Xian's collarbone had come from the red spider.

    Once the moles appeared, this meant that the spell had succeeded: the person bit by the black spider, once dead, would never truly fade away nor lose consciousness, and remain something between a ghost and a soul. The misfortunes destined for the red-spider person would all be transferred to the black-spider person's life, and all the good karma that the black-spider person had earned in their life would be repaid to the red-spider person...

    The cost was that the dead person could never enter the wheel of life again; this was the end of the road.

    It wasn't three lives; it was eternity.

    "The mole's appeared. From now on, it'll just be you –– walking the ends of the earth, alone, forever," Tongdeng said. He stood by the door now, looking out at the moonlit sky. Then he turned back to Xuanmin and added, "Of course, there are good things too. You'll never lose your memory again. You'll remember everything you're supposed to remember. In fact, they'll become clearer and clearer as the years go by, as though your life had only ended yesterday. The bad part... no matter how well you remember things, you're invisible to all eyes. Even dragons'. So, do you regret it?"

    For a long time, Xuanmin was silent, as though still unwilling to engage Tongdeng. Now this reminded Tongdeng of his original disciple from centuries ago. 

    Finally, Xuanmin calmly responded, "You had the Wuming Spider bite you too. Do you regret it?"

    Tongdeng grunted, then said nothing.

    Regrets?

    The fortunes and misfortunes of one's fate are no small matter. He'd given it all away, and of course that had been no small decision. He would never regret it, not even if the world turned upside-down.