1052 The Magnificen (1/2)

Immediately upon receiving the order from Buddhism, the Right Royal Court sent out their reinforcements. It was a great honor and opportunity for the pious Buddhists from the grassland to be able to visit the legendary Buddha land. The snowstorm and long journey could never intimidate them. They regarded it as the Buddha's test.

Yet the leading monk soldiers seemed to be pretty worried. Different from the cheerful and excited nobles from the Royal Court, they understood the situation much better. The Xuankong Temple had always been superior. But this time they even went so far as to seek help from the secular world. It could only mean that the Buddha land was undergoing great hardships and extreme dangers.

Down at the bottom of the Giant Sinkhole in the Wilderness, it was still dark and gloomy as it had been throughout countless years. But nowadays there were many campfires on the fields spreading warm yellow light to the nether world. They provided a direction for the miserable and gathered more and more companions.

Jun Mo stood by a meadow far from the campfires. He stared at the sky-reaching peak hundreds of miles away emotionlessly. He seemed much slimmer than he was years ago, and his handsome face got darker. The empty sleeve was swaying in the wind, and his newly grown hair seemed stubby.

He had lived and fought here for six years. He would probably fight until his last moment. But no one had any idea how exhausted he was because he never showed any trace of exhaustion or frustration on his calm face.

The Prajna Peak was still imposing and steep as it always was. The yellow temples scattered in the lush forest were no less awe-inspiring. The chimes at dawn and dusk were still mystical and distant. The Xuankong Temple stayed superior as if nothing had changed.

Rage had inflamed the fields down in the Giant Sinkhole and spread to the foot of the peak. The outrageous uprising had made its way here but were defeated many times. It seemed as if they could never succeed but actually the situation was changing. And the Buddha land was no longer in its full glory. The Main Hall was never restored ever since it destroyed by Sangsang. The Buddha's chessboard was thrown into the underground magma and could never be brought to light again.

Many had died and many were dying. They were people from the eminent monks in Xuankong Temple, the nobles in the tribes and their loyal warriors, as well as the outrageous uprising slaves. The chimes were knells. How could they be mystical and distant?

Jun Mo stared silently at the Prajna Peak, the steep cliffs and the Buddha's relics. He seemed resolute although he had no idea when he could lead the people to the Prajna Peak and burn down the yellow temples. But he would continue fighting until he made it.

The empty sleeve swayed in the wind and occasionally got twisted. Jun Mo was trying to untwist it while an arrow was shot at him. He got it off with his iron sword and frowned slightly. A former female slave came to him and helped untwisted the sleeve.

The uprising had lasted for many years. The wild fire had spread across the fields. Jun Mo knew that the Xuankong Temple and the Buddha land would eventually lay down their mystical superiority and belief, and seek for help from the secular world, at least from the Yuelun Kingdom or the Right Royal Court.

He would be confronted with more difficulties and might never be able to lead the slaves out of the underground world to a real home. But so what? He tried, and was still trying. A man might lose a battle, but he must be resolute and broad-minded. He felt exhausted and lowered his head so that people around him would not see.

He was the Second Brother of the Academy. Throughout the years he had stayed away from the Central Plains and fought in the underground world in obscurity, and was almost forgotten by the outside world. He used to be the most courteous and dignified person. But now he was dressed in worn-out monk robe and boots. His previous glory was nowhere to be found.

Yet whoever knew what he had been doing could not disregard him the slightest. Even though he lost an arm to Liu Bai and could never break through the Five States, and even though he stayed away from the Central Plains, he could still shake the entire human world in a single strike, and spread it to every corner on the continent.

The Xuankong Temple was dragged by the inflamed rage of the uprising army. How could they spare any attention to join the war in the human world? How could the Yuelun Kingdom and the Right Royal Court be of any threat to Tang? Taoism and Buddhism could never collaborate against the Academy again like the did years ago. The situation in the human world had changed a lot silently. And the person who made it was just Jun Mo.

He only had one arm and one iron sword. Yet he had stopped one third of the Tang's enemies. In that sense what he did was indeed extraordinary, both for the underground people who had been enslaved by Buddhism for years as well as for the Tang Empire.

It was impossible to find a word to describe what Jun Mo had achieved these years. If one had to choose a word, it must be magnificent.

Jun Mo was not a pleasant person. He had always been quiet and solemn, and was used to disciplining the disciples of the Academy with violence. He could not even convey his affection properly. Therefore he was never respected as the Eldest Brother, or as loved as Chen Pipi.

Jun Mo liked to reason with his enemies but his reasoning did not make any sense in most cases. Therefore whenever his enemies recalled him, they could only get headaches.

But Jun Mo was still magnificent.

Jun Mo could always see the vast ocean and the blue sky, and embrace a magnificent mind. He knew no limitation to his abilities, therefore every step he took was unrestrained. Because of his magnificence, he did not think that he was fighting alone. That was probably why others like Long Qing could never surpass him.

He had subordinates and followers. At the beginning there were only a dozen of them, whereas now there were hundreds and thousands. His followers were all over the fields. He always regarded them as his companions and fellow travelers.

The thousands of soldiers stationed behind Jun Mo were his earliest followers and now the core of the uprising army. Throughout the battles these years, the former slaves who used to know only how to grow barley and herd sheep were becoming more and more powerful. They were only familiar with farm tools in the past. But now they were skillful at using weapons.

They had very strong willpower and remained calm in the battlefields no matter what happened. They would never give up or surrender after a single failure.

They were all like Jun Mo and shared similar spirit and character. They all had magnificent minds and noble sentiments.

...

...

In the winter battle, Jun Mo and the tens of thousands of uprising soldiers successfully broke through the defense line of the noble army. They came to the foot of Prajna Peak as they did several times throughout the years. No one from the uprising army was cheerful and excited because history had proved that they could not stay here for long. It was very close to the thousands of temples in the Prajna Peak. Therefore the monks would receive reinforcements in no time. When confronted by the powerful figures from Buddhism, they could never win with only one Jun Mo.

But they had no fear for self-sacrifice. They had fought aggressively to come all the way here despite that they might have to retreat on the following day because that was Jun Mo's order. Was he trying to prove to the Xuankong Temple again and again that the uprising army was unyielding? Or did he just want to revive the sinking morale via the victories?

Only Jun Mo himself knew the answer. Or even he himself could not be sure whether he was right or whether the person could echo from thousands of miles away.

Down at the foot of the Prajna Peak, tens of thousands of fully armed noble warriors stood side by side with thousands of monk soldiers in kasayas from the Xuankong Temple. Among the crowd there were the powerful arhats from the Commandment Hall. And on top of the trails there stood the ultimate powerful figure: the resolute Qi Nian, World Wayfarer of Buddhism.

”You will never get to the peak. What's the point of making more and more sacrifices? The Buddha is compassionate and cares for the welfare of all living beings, so back-off.” Qi Nian's voice was like the chimes that resounded across the gloomy underground world. The tens of thousands of uprising slaves heard his words and reacted differently.

Jun Mo replied emotionlessly, ”I've been there.” He held the tilt of the iron sword in his left hand and gazed at the scar on Qi Nian's face. It was humiliating for him.

When Sangsang and Ning Que were trapped in the Buddha's chessboard, he had to make his way up to the peak by himself. He broke through their defense lines, eventually came to the cliffs and met the Chief Monk of Scripture. That was how he opened the Buddha's chessboard.

During that process, he confronted Qi Nian once. Of course he won and Qi Nian lost several teeth and was severely wounded.

”Even if you could get up there, so what?” Qi Nian said calmly without any sense of being humiliated, ”Our master sits right there among the cliffs. What else can you do?”

Indeed, even if he could break into Prajna Peak, what else could he do? Jun Mo had been there once but could not win. It was meaningless.

”I can do nothing. But I just hate to hear you bald donkeys talk about the Buddha being compassionate and caring about all the living beings. It is disgusting and outrageous.” Jun Mo continued, ”When I get here, I will spit on your master's face and see how he would react. Will he let it dry in the wind or take his cane to fight me? But the thing is he walks too slowly to catch and kill me. So you will have to wait to see what will happen there.”

”In order to show off your prestige, you have already sacrificed so many people. I don't think that's in accordance with the Academy's philosophy or the Headmaster's teaching.” Qi Nian looked around the uprising slaves dressed in worn-out furs and clothes and said with sympathy, ”Why don't we make peace?”

If Ning Que were present, he would definitely mock and give his middle-finger. But Jun Mo neither mocked nor put up the finger. He was a courteous man who had no idea what the middle-finger meant. He just stared at Qi Nian calmly as if he was looking at an idiot.

Qi Nian frowned slightly and asked, ”What do you want?”

Jun Mo did not tell but sat down on the chilling meadow. He took out some gravel and threw them out.

The gravel rolled on for a while and stopped.

People wondered if he was doing divination. Could those gravel work as turtle shells or cow bones? What was the prophecy? But Jun Mo was not divine.

His hair turned grey within a few days ever since he lost the arm. Then he shaved his head and started reading Buddhist scriptures. He broke through levels of cultivation and was respected as a master throughout the fields. But he was not converting to Buddhism or becoming a monk. He clung to the teaching of the Academy and refused to talk about the ridiculous, the deity, the world beyond life and death, or the fortune told by the Eight Trigrams.

He was calculating. His calculation was based on the fragmented information he received and evolved constantly. It was a very complicated process and required great arithmetic abilities. But as they all knew, he was outstanding in this.

The gravel scattered among the dry wild grass. Jun Mo stared at the grass and gravel silently while he pondered. Ye Su was dead, which meant that the Abbey Dean did not care about the future of Taoism or his belief in Haotian. It also proved that he did not care about Haotian's being weakened. But why?

He turned away from the grass and gravel and looked into the grey sky. Then he came across another possibility. There was a her in the Heaven. And there was another her here in the human world. If the belief was weakening, she would definitely be weakening. But before making any hypothesis they had to prove that there were two Haotian.

Jun Mo could not prove it. He could only make his guess according to the Abbey Dean's actions because that was the best explanation to what he had been doing so far.

So did Sangsang not return to the Divine Kingdom? Was she still here in the human world?

Jun Mo frowned. No matter if it was the Abbey Dean's own wish or he was carrying out the order from the Heaven, he would never let them kill Sangsang. Or perhaps it was because he could never let his enemy achieve whatever they wanted. But more likely it was simply because the Haotian in the human world was Sangsang. Jun Mo believed that Ning Que should have also sensed this and he would definitely leave Chang'an to look for her. He had no doubt about that as he knew Ning Que and Sangsang the best. He knew that nothing meant more to Ning Que than Sangsang, not even the entire human world.

But what would Ning Que do before he left Chang'an? Once the Thirteen Primordial Arrows were taken out of Chang'an they would lose its killing power. He would definitely make some shots before he took off. Where would he target at? It could not be the Divine Halls of West-Hill which were protected by the Array of Clear Light. Even the Eldest Brother could not break through, not to mention his iron arrows. It could be neither the Golden Tribe Royal Court nor the Yan or the East Wilderness. It must be here.

Indeed, Ning Que must be pointing at the Xuankong Temple at the moment.

Jun Mo was certain. Once Ning Que left Chang'an, he would need him back as soon as possible. He was not narcissistic, but he was clearly aware of his abilities. In other words, it was their best choice. Ning Que was very particular about gain and loss. If he was going to make one or even a few shots, he would have to maximize the result.

Upon thinking of that, Jun Mo looked above to a plateau high up among the cliffs. It was where the Chief Monk of Scripture was. Many years ago the Chief Monk of Scripture was wounded by the Eldest Brother and Jun Mo for several rounds and followed by Sangsang. Therefore he had been dedicating in practicing.

But as long as he was sitting by the cliffs, the Prajna Peak would never collapse, or would the monks in the yellow temples and the noble warriors of the tribes ever lose their confidence.

Jun Mo knew what he had to do. He had kept quiet for a long while after throwing the gravel into the grass. His enemies as well as followers were all wondering.

Jun Mo pulled out of his sword, or rather, raised his sword to the gloomy sky. It was an upright and straight iron sword, and he held it up as if it were a torch.

Behind him, the most loyal and courageous thousands of former slaves went into an uproar because it was not a signal of attacking, which made them confused and anxious. But no matter how confused or anxious they were, they would never disobey his order. The uprising army retreated from the fields like a falling tide.

Thousands of former slaves covered the retreat while they stared at Jun Mo who still stood by the meadow. They were confused but not worried.

Jun Mo never claimed to be a liberator, a leader, a merciful god or a living Buddha. But he was no less compassionate and merciful than a savior for the former slaves. He was the true Buddha who would escort them to the ultimate happiness. As a Buddha, he would definitely be fine.

Qi Nian placed his palm in front of his chest while the rosary swung in the breeze. An awe-inspiring and powerful Dharmakaya could be seen indistinctly.

”What do you want?” He stared at Jun Mo and felt somewhat worried.

Tens of thousands of former slaves were retreating like falling tide. The dark mass of people swept through the fields, mountains, rivers and whatever in their way. It was massive.

Jun Mo said nothing but proceeded ahead with the iron sword in his hand. He walked toward tens of thousands of enemies by himself, and seemed even more magnificent. The iron sword pierced through the chilling wind and almost took people's breaths. Jun Mo was going to fight his way up to the peak, again.

When he held his iron sword in front of the Verdant Canyon years ago, tens of thousands of elite cavalrymen were not able to move a single step forward. Today he was going to fight his way up to the peak. Would these tens of thousands of soldiers be able to stop him?

Qi Nian plus all the powerful figures from the Commandment Hall of Buddhism might be able to defeat him as a team. But the Prajna Peak was a huge hill. How could they guard it?

As long as he was determined, he would definitely break into the peak, no matter the cost. But what Qi Nian could not understand was why. Why would Jun Mo do this?

He broke through to the peak last time to save his Youngest Brother. This time it was also for his Youngest Brother. He wanted him to feel relieved when he left Chang'an for his important business. He had his reason and justification. Therefore he would and had to do it.

In the gloomy world, the iron sword pierced through the air and deafening clashes of killing weapons were heard. Broken limbs were scattered and blood splashed.

Buddhist chanting continued and the chimes resounded. The morale of Buddhism was elevated. Countless powerful figures poured onto Jun Mo but failed to stop the iron sword.

Jun Mo started fighting his way up. It took him three days and three nights. In the midnight after three days and three nights, Jun Mo finally came to the highest plateau on top of the Prajna Peak. It was dawn again, and he finally came to where the pear tree used to be.

On the other side of the vines on the mountain trail, dead monks' bodies were all over and blood flooded like brooks. He was also soaked in blood.

There was no pear tree now and only lots of vines. Only the ruins of the destroyed temple could be seen as well as a dust stained white stupa. There was no one else in front of the white stupa except for an ordinary looking senior monk. He was the living buddha in the human world.

Jun Mo came to the senior monk. Qi Nian was forced to jump into the brook previously by his iron sword and could not come instantly. Therefore no one could ever stop him now.

The monks from the Xuankong Temple were actually not very serious about stopping him because even if he could get up to the plateau, what could he do?

He was indeed the great Second Brother of the Academy. But the Chief Monk of Scripture had obtained the unbreakable vajra body, the highest level of Buddhism. Who could ever defeat the living buddha?

The Chief Monk of Scripture opened his eyes and greeted him, ”It has been a few years. Mr. Second looked travel-stained as you were back then, but a bit more withered.” The Chief Monk of Scripture smiled warmly and seemed calm.

Jun Mo stared at the gap by the plateau and answered after a while, ”I would never have peace as long as I do not burn down the evil Buddha land. How could I not be dusty and withered?”

In the gap, there used to be a pear tree. He was the one who chopped the cliff with his iron sword and took that pear tree to thousands of miles away. It should be planted at the back hill of the Academy now.

It must have grown into a huge tree. Jun Mo felt some yearning all of a sudden. He had to finish this quickly.

The Chief Monk of Scripture looked at him and said calmly, ”The arrow cannot kill me.”

The most powerful and effective killing weapon of the Academy was no longer a secret to the top cultivators around the world now.

Many years ago in the White Tower Temple in Yuelun Kingdom the Chief Monk of Scripture had taken Ning Que's iron arrow. More precisely, he did not take it because he did not even dodge.