Resurrection Card
Day broke.
An even, dim yellow light, resembling neither dawn nor dusk, unreasonably covered the world again, including this chanting pavilion, announcing the end of the night.
Bai Fangsui knelt on a futon worn down to its straw stalks. She wore a washed-out, dark monastic robe whose original color was almost indistinguishable. A bamboo hat of similar material rested on her head, with a hanging veil that obscured her face and blurred her vision, but it certainly would not prevent her from seeing the giant Buddha in the courtyard clearly...
Absolutely not.
Bai Fangsui hesitantly raised her hand and lifted the veil completely. Sure enough, even without this thin barrier, the outline of the Buddha statue remained hazy.
Through the small window of the chanting pavilion, she could see the giant Buddha at all times, almost at eye level with it.
During the day, its outline should be clear and distinct. Why was it now showing a state of melting or waiting to be reshaped?
Not to mention that the craftsmen's repairs to the Buddha statue were merely symbolic work. Even if it were real, most people had only touched the legs and feet of the giant Buddha yesterday, but now the changes were happening all over its body.
Was it a hallucination?
Bai Fangsui's brow furrowed tighter and tighter. She could no longer read the scriptures on the desk in front of her. Her head was swimming, and she vaguely felt out of breath.
Ever since she entered the Infernal Temple, she had been trapped in this square pavilion, flipping through countless scriptures all day long. If there were some clues in them, that would be fine, but they were completely chaotic and disorderly, with many repetitive contents. She had read the story of Shakyamuni sacrificing himself to feed a tiger as Prince Mahasattva more than three times.
Mere repetition was not enough to make her too uncomfortable. She had received the most orthodox and rigorous divine maiden education since childhood. The mental formulas and spells she had to memorize were countless, each a hundred times more boring than the scriptures.
What she truly could not endure was that the scriptures recorded many dark stories. Even if their essence was to reveal Buddhist principles like karmic retribution and reaping what one sows, or to show the truth of the impermanence of the world and endless desires, they still made her feel repulsed.
She felt that those contents were... not bright, perfect, and pure enough.
Her master had clearly said that this trial was suitable for her and might help her untie the knots in her heart. Why did she feel even more depressed now, completely unable to find her direction?
Bai Fangsui suddenly stood up from the futon and hurried to the unlocked door. Her hand had already touched the door panel, but then it paused.
...No, not yet. She could not go out.
She was different from the craftsmen. Her mission was to attain Bodhi and seek the Great Dao.
She had to see through the great wisdom in this pavilion—that was what the old monk had told her.
Therefore, she needed to follow the rules...
Bai Fangsui frowned, withdrew her hand, and knelt back on the futon, forcing herself to calm down.
But the environment did not seem to allow her to do as she wished. An incredibly horrified and noisy shout rang out in the courtyard: Hurry, everyone come here! Is that... is that the body of the Sweeping Monk?!
...
After this shout rang out, Yingshi inevitably felt a sense of guilt as an accomplice.
She mingled in the crowd, trying hard to control her expression and pretending to be completely oblivious.
The real murderer, Shuangjian, was not here at this moment.
Because it was now daytime, having transformed into an evil spirit, he could only stay suppressed beneath the Buddha statue.
However, no disciple would notice anything unusual due to one person's absence, because many people who had been eliminated were also gone today, including Xinmei, who had chatted with Yingshi just yesterday.
Vaguely, she felt that Xinmei's elimination was related to her choice to cause sabotage with fake ink.
It's only the third day, and there are only twenty-six stonemasons and nine painters left. I don't know if that Chanting Monk who is only known by name is still around... Overnight, so many people were eliminated again? someone said in horror. Even the old monk who guided us is dead! How could he die?
At this moment, the old monk's corpse was sitting upright on the necessary path between the houses and the Buddha statue. His face was black, bleeding from his seven orifices, and there was a very clear strangulation mark on his neck.
The disciples were just about to gather around to identify it clearly, but the corpse suddenly turned into a dry skeleton, instantly losing its human form and completely collapsing.
Not expecting a second form, most people were taken aback and quickly retreated.
...Someone must be playing tricks! the first person who cried out said through gritted teeth. Yesterday I found it strange why fake unblemished stones were placed on the stone platform. I'm afraid there's also forged merit ink in the painting workshop! All the consequences now must be caused by someone adulterating the materials! Now, let alone whether the construction of the Buddha statue can proceed as scheduled, even our guide is gone. We've completely become headless flies. What should we do?
...
A brief silence followed; temporarily, no one responded to his words.
Obviously, in the eyes of more people, it was hard to equate the old monk with the friendly identity of a guide.
After a long while, a second person asked, The Sweeping Monk once said that the quota of stone and ink is fixed, and missing even a tiny bit would make it impossible to recreate the solemn appearance. Does that mean our mission has already failed?
Yingshi knew more than the others, but now was not the time for her to speak up and explain. She cautiously remained silent.
There's no need to be so pessimistic, Duan Qinghe pondered. If the path was completely blocked, the second trial would have ended long ago, and we wouldn't still be here. We haven't grasped the pattern of the alternation between day and night. I'm just afraid that night will fall too fast and catch us off guard. The most important thing right now is to finish today's work first. If we have spare time, we can discuss it then.
With him taking the lead, everyone calmed down one after another. Even though they were still panicked and uneasy, they could only run towards the stone platforms and painting workshops to repeat yesterday's work.
...
Yingshi once again walked beneath the giant Buddha, carrying the real unblemished stones.
During the day, the giant Buddha returned to its normal appearance.
But she also noticed that the outline of the Buddha statue had softened a lot, and its facial features had blurred. She didn't know if this change was evidence supporting her theory.
It was a pity that she couldn't discuss it with Shuangjian right away...
Recalling last night's experience, Yingshi stared at the outer shell of the Buddha statue, her gaze somewhat fixed. She had the feeling that Shuangjian was right beneath the Buddha statue right now, and she was still looking into his eyes.
She somewhat flusteredly raised her hand to tidy the loose hair hanging in front of her chest. After confirming that her attire was neat, she carefully squatted back down at the feet of the giant Buddha, wielding her small hammer to inlay the stones.
Her working movements were meticulous, but her mind was full of distracting thoughts.
She always felt that the blushing and heart-pounding sensation was still continuing... Who would have thought that the evil spirit's first wish was simply to be looked at by her?
It sounded simple, but actually executing it almost cost Yingshi half her life.
Shuangjian didn't allow her to turn her back, nor did he allow her to dodge. He used straightforward words to demand her gaze.
So she could only look.
Look at his trembling eyelashes, look at his tightly pursed lip line, look at every restrained roll of his Adam's apple.
The darkness magnified all her senses. His crisp, clean scent was everywhere, enveloping her tightly. She could even hear their intertwined, increasingly erratic breathing, as well as her own out-of-control heart pounding desperately in her chest, as if ready to break the drumsticks.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, yet also felt fleeting. She did not know how long she had been gazing like that; she only felt as if her entire being was about to melt in this tiny prison, dissolving into a puddle of sweet water!
To call it torment would not be quite right. Yingshi found it hard to describe her feelings at that moment. She even felt the urge to question the evil spirit: How could he be so easily satisfied? Just wanting someone to stare blankly at him—how was that greed! True greed would obviously manifest in much more excessive and outrageous ways...
But she also knew she could never actually ask that out loud. Once she did, the roles would likely be reversed—she would seem more like the ravenous evil spirit!
This feeding the spirit with one's body was indeed a shortcut to helping someone achieve Buddhahood, but it tested one's willpower far too much!
Anyone who could hold onto their true self and resist the urge to touch when seduced by an evil spirit truly deserved to become a Buddha on the spot!
The true evil spirit, Yingshi, finally unable to resist her own greed, gently rested her forehead against Shuangjian's chest. Then, she heard his still-hoarse voice sounding above her head.
He said, It is almost dawn.
Yingshi nodded blankly, savoring a strange sense of melancholy.
Dawn meant the nightly ritual of feeding the spirit with one's body was temporarily over, and they would not have to endure the awkwardness anymore. But it also meant a temporary parting. She would not be able to see Shuangjian during the day, just like right now... Oh my god, what was she reminiscing about?
Yingshi shook her head vigorously, burying her burning cheeks in her arms. The small hammer in her hand dropped onto the stone slab with a clatter.
Hearing the call of Miss Xu from behind, she was startled even more. She hurriedly picked up the hammer and turned around. Seeing the newcomer, she choked in her haste and coughed lightly, Brother Duan, when did you get here?
Miss Xu, I have already called you twice. Duan Qinghe smiled politely and exchanged pleasantries, It is quite a coincidence that we ran into each other today. We really hit it off...
Before he could finish his sentence, his hand suddenly trembled, and he nearly dropped the ink he was holding.
This caused the polite smile on his face to fade completely. He looked up at the giant Buddha in a slight daze.
What is wrong? Yingshi asked, confused.
Duan Qinghe also furrowed his brows, looking puzzled. After a few seconds of silence, he shook his head, It is nothing.
He assumed a working posture, tracing the ink while casually asking, Miss Xu, has that Brother Han who was with you also been eliminated?
Yingshi did not know how to answer this sharp question.
Her eyes darted around, and she answered with reservation, Well, I have not seen him during the day today.
Duan Qinghe nodded and added, Then, Miss Xu, what are your thoughts on the death of the Sweeping Monk discovered this morning?
...Was Duan Qinghe a reporter here for an interview?
I do not have any thoughts at the moment.
Yingshi pretended to be very busy, swinging her small hammer so fast it became a blur, trying to hide her inner anxiety.
Her and Shuangjian's theory was currently only in the experimental stage and could not be discovered by others, otherwise who knew what the consequences would be.
If not everyone could accept the core rule of balancing good and evil, and instead were dead set on eradicating all demons and evil spirits in the world, turning their hostility toward Shuangjian, who had transformed into an evil spirit, it would be a disaster.
Miss Xu, I actually have some thoughts on this. If you do not mind, you could use them as a reference... Halfway through his sentence, Duan Qinghe's hand suddenly trembled violently again. This time, he did not even have time to steady it. The inkstone containing the merit ink flipped upside down onto the ground, even hitting his foot before it landed.
Are you okay?
Yingshi hurriedly looked over and saw Duan Qinghe's face turn pale. Ignoring the sharp pain in his toes from the impact, he hastily picked up the inkstone. Fortunately, the merit ink inside had not spilled or been wasted.
Both of them breathed a sigh of relief.
If Duan Qinghe had lost a portion of ink due to a slip of the hand, never mind whether he would be eliminated the next day, Yingshi herself would feel terrible. Right now, she especially could not stand seeing any disciple fail to complete their assigned tasks. Because of her ambition to become a Buddha, this golden statue was essentially being sculpted for herself, so she naturally cared about its quality.
Let us get back to work first and chat after we are done, Yingshi whispered.
Duan Qinghe smiled sheepishly, lowered his eyes, and focused intently on tracing the ink.
With the indirect questioning gone from her ears, Yingshi felt only relief. She sped up her pace, embedded the last stone into the gap, and quickly ran off, terrified of being caught by Duan Qinghe for another interview.
...Sigh, the days without Shuangjian were so long.
Yingshi sighed, turning the corner through the archway, planning to go back to her room for a while and quietly wait for nightfall.
But as soon as she turned, she saw someone blocking her path.
It was a woman wearing a bamboo hat and a monk's robe—a first in this Wujian Temple.
Just as she was wondering about this person's identity, she saw the woman silently raise her hand and lift the bamboo hat, revealing a cold and aloof face.
Meeting those narrow, cold eyes, Yingshi could not help but open her mouth in surprise.
Th-this was clearly Bai Fangsui!
Was she not already eliminated in the Tianshan Snowfield? Why was she here?
Wait... The one who was eliminated was Bai Feng. Now Bai Fangsui was dressed as a woman. Could it be that she was that extra Chanting Monk?
Without any pleasantries, Bai Fangsui cut straight to the chase: Where is Han Shuangjian?
Swallowing her bellyful of shock and suspicion, Yingshi opened her mouth but did not answer immediately. Instead, she asked, Are you that young hero Bai Feng, who broke the prayer beads of a hundred people in the Tianshan Snowfield?
...
Bai Fangsui pressed her lips tightly together and fell silent.
Eh? I clearly remember young hero Bai being eliminated...
Bai Fangsui looked up at Yingshi, her eyes tinged with a heavy sharpness, and spoke again: Does the death of the Sweeping Monk have anything to do with Han Shuangjian?
Yingshi turned a deaf ear and continued to feign deep thought. She looked Bai Fangsui up and down and continued questioning, Besides, young hero Bai was clearly a man. Why are you dressed as a woman now? Even your voice has returned to that of a woman...
...How much do you know about Han Shuangjian's affairs?!
I remember when we first entered Wujian Temple, everyone was discussing how, since exactly one hundred disciples advanced, there was suddenly an extra Chanting Monk. Could that be you?
...It is useless for you to stand here and beat around the bush with me.
Hero Bai Feng, I admire you so much! Where did you buy a resurrection card? How can one enter the second round after being eliminated in the first? I reckon everyone would be very curious about this. Could you teach us? I will go call everyone over to listen right now!
...
Bai Fangsui abruptly pulled down her bamboo hat, stepped past Yingshi, bumped her shoulder hard against Yingshi's, and walked far away.
Yingshi hissed in pain as she rubbed her shoulder. The playful expression she had put on just to anger Bai Fangsui was completely gone from her face. She looked at Bai Fangsui's retreating back with a slightly solemn expression, feeling thankful that the other woman had such thin skin. As long as she attacked her pride, Yingshi could buy herself some time to react.
The Chanting Monk who had suddenly entered the fray turned out to be Bai Fangsui, and she still harbored an enmity equal to or even deeper than what she had shown in the Tianshan snowfields. She had to tell Shuangjian about this as soon as possible. Speaking of which, how much awareness did he still have of the events in the courtyard while he was suppressed?
Yingshi was burning with anxiety. She wished night would fall immediately so that she could be summoned by the evil spirit right away.
However, after three melodious rings of the evening bell echoed through the air, her door remained tightly shut.
The evil spirit hadn't summoned her at the first opportunity... Could it be that he had other things to do?
...
Knock, knock.
Duan Qinghe caught a glimpse of the slender silhouette outside his door, illuminated by the candlelight. It was completely different from the old monk's, causing his brow to twitch involuntarily.
The old monk had died during the day, so what kind of thing was standing outside his door tonight?
He had no desire to open the door, but it was forced open anyway.
A familiar lantern was held in the intruder's hand. The warm light gently outlined his pale, cold wrist, as well as the glaring red string tied around it.
The light and shadows crept upward, brushing past his moon-white robes, and finally settling on that handsome, expressionless face.
It was Han Shuangjian.
...
The back of Duan Qinghe's clothes suddenly became drenched in cold sweat.
