941 The Other End Of The Chessboard (1/2)

Refres.h.i.+ng breeze slightly pa.s.sed by on the cliff plateau. The White Tower was reborn in the shattered temples and brims, which had lost its splendid glamour from the admiration of the thousands of people by the lake in Chaoyang City in the past. Now, it looked decadent due to its dead appearance.

Rainstorm caused countless leaves to fall, while the wind slightly knocked down hundreds of fruits. The branches of the green tree on one side of the cliff were scattered. They were as pitiful as clothless women. The waterfalls down the cliff seemed to be scornfully laughing at it.

The chessboard was lying on the cliff plateau.

Even the light had vanished as the gilding scriptures dispersed with the loose clouds. Petals were no longer falling, and the bell tones and sutrchanting had stopped.

The crowd of monks walked out of the temples, and looked up at the cliff plateau. Their upset was settled down gradually and they went back to the temples. Everyday-routined lessons were restored accordingly.

The bell tones in countless temples across the world stopped as well. The elders and abbots in the temples stared at the statues of the Buddha, and fell into silent frustrations. Suddenly, a welcome monk reported that the princess or throne prince from some prefecture came for incense offering.

It did not matter if they were the elders or abbots, but once they heard such news, they poses as eminent monks, and moved toward the front door to welcome them, while considering how much incense money they should ask for. Of course, they will not ask for so much that they will be disliked. At that moment, they all abandoned the Buddha.

Countless believers in the human world also woke up. They touched their b.l.o.o.d.y foreheads which resulted from the kowtowing, and were confused about the surroundings. They had no idea what had happened before that.

A old woman heard the crying of her grandson, and found her beloved baby had fallen below the bed. The strange thing was that a similar b.u.mp appeared on both of them, which made them flurried and confused.

She was numb and stood up with a limp, held up her grandson in her arms and soothed him for quite a while. She hit the ground again and again, with nothing else to blame. She didn't have the Buddha in mind at all.

In the shabby Buddhist nunnery out the capital city of the Yan Kingdom, widows stared at the distorted bell that couldn't make a sound, no matter how hard they hit it. They were startled. Will they not be able hear the bell tone any more? All of a sudden, they started to howl fiercely. How could they spend their lives in such a miserable way? Who cared how blissful their afterlives would be? They lifelessly walked back to their rooms, kneeled down with their two palms together devoutly, and kept praying to the Buddha.

In the Wilderness, millions who were kneeling down on the ground woke up as well. n.o.bles found themselves kneeling with the poor. They couldn't help but feel indignant. As a result, they waved the whips in their hands, hit a few serfs, and then felt relieved to see the open wounds.

The bleeding serfs were in great pain and were too dreadful to fight back. They could only work with their worn-out bodies and ate very terrible food at night. Before bed, they started praying again, and silently asked the beneficent Buddha to take them to the Western Paradise as soon as possible.

The Buddha or Haotian were both easy to be forgotten. Of course, on the contrary, sometimes they were hard to be forgotten as well.

Happy people could easily forget their beliefs, which were the last straw for the unlucky ones. From this perspective, perhaps belief could be good, but at the same time bad events would possibly happen.

On the other hand, non-believers were growing at the back hill of the Academy, exactly due to that. At their positions and stances, these people couldn't and dared to shed a light on this issue.

Master Huang Yang walked out of the Zen room. He was feeling the scent of serenity from countless temples, while listening to the sutrchanting on and below the mount. He also found that it seemed nothing had happened at all.

However, a lot of things did happen.

Sangsang and Ning Que entered the chessboard without an invitation. However, at the stance of Xuankong Temple, it was a.s.sumed that Buddha had deployed supreme Buddha Dharma and had Haotian as well as her attendant sucked into the chessboard.

Master Huang Yang, in cloth as light as the air, climbed up the mountain pa.s.s, and was about to reach the cliff plateau.

He was about to pick up the chessboard, because Ning Que was in it. Ning Que was too important to the Tang, so he couldn't just sit and watch him die.

Master Huang Yang was an eminent monk of Buddhism, but above all, he was a citizen of the Tang.

At this point, a serene and solemn voice echoed from the distant. ”I heard that, a mountain, named Prajna, weighs as heavily as eighteen thousands times of the Tianqi Mountain,” the Scriptures Chief Monk said. The sound came from the distant ground on the precipice.

This was the highest initial approach in Buddhism. Power came along with the words.

Years ago, the Scriptures Chief Monk preached the same sutra to the First Brother in the White Tower Temple in Chaoyang City. It described a mountain named Prajna. The huge mount where Xuankong Temple was located was Prajna.

Once said by a Buddhist, it was responded with echoes, as high, steep and magnificent as Prajna. All out of a sudden, it became heftier. Master Huang Yang, rus.h.i.+ng through the mountain pa.s.s, stopped abruptly.

Click. Master Huang Yang's leg bones were fractured. It was the cracked mountain itself that had severely injured him!

...

...

At the fringe of the Giant Sinkhole above the precipice, the Chief Monk of Scripture 's body was still buried under the ground, only with his head showing. With his white eyebrows drooping, he was pale and very faint.

Chief Monk was melting into the ground by Sangsang's divine ability. Over the days, he had been fighting against the endless extrusions of the earth. His exhaustion caused him to suffer even more.

An autumn wind blew over, and a super light aroma of wine spread out in the wind of wilderness. The Drunkard, still in his long gown, showed up like that in front of the Chief Monk of Scripture without any omens.

He didn't pay much attention to the Chief Monk's funny face at the moment, yet rather stared at the cliff plateau. He looked quite pale. The restless sights filled up his eyes.

The Chief Monk tried to look up toward him and said, ”It appears you already know what had happened.”

The Drunkard's expression looked terrible and said, ”Such a big event has already shaken the human world. What's the difference even if I were pretend to be ignorant?”

During the time when the bell tones and sutra0chanting were everywhere in the human world, he was in the small town on the border between the Yan and the Song. Even though he was with the Butcher, he still felt extremely unsettled. Thus, he had a long tea time with Owner Chao.

”Little did I think that you would actually attack Haotian,” the Drunkard murmured.

The Chief Monk said slowly, ”It was the Buddha's plan.”

The Drunkard saw the small rapture under his neck, grasped a stone, and then threw it in.