Chapter 568: “Life-Preserving Mantra”

The ground was covered with blue glazed tiles, the green hills were abundant with medicinal herbs, and the herbalists moved with agility. The ancient temple stood secluded, profound, and tranquil, forming a striking contrast with the surrounding sandy dunes and swirling dust. Yet, it was like an oasis, blending harmoniously with the vast desert as if Lanke Temple had always belonged there!

A compassionate and merciful voice echoed from within the temple: “Master Su, you may begin your enlightenment now.”

Meng Qi nodded, but suddenly a thought arose in his mind: “Bodhisattva, if I wish to pursue enlightenment again in the future, how shall I find the Lanke Temple?”

Surely he couldn’t rely on visiting Shuimoyuan or Shaolin Temple every time?

The figure from Lanke Temple spoke with a gentle, serene, and transcendent tone: “I have already remembered Master Su. In the future, as long as you sincerely recite ‘Namo Yueling Mani Guangwang Pusa’ three times within this world, you shall see Lanke Temple. The same applies to all other devotees.”

Namo Yueling Mani Guangwang Pusa? Meng Qi hadn’t heard of this name before. It must be a Bodhisattva who attained enlightenment within the last thousand years. At first, Meng Qi noticed the change in address, but then he froze.

This meant he could retreat into Lanke Temple at will!

As long as he sincerely recited the Bodhisattva’s name three times, the omnipresence of Lanke Temple would allow him to find a convenient gateway. He could enter the temple for enlightenment, stay briefly, and then depart. At first glance, it appeared unremarkable, but upon deeper reflection, it was profoundly profound!

In the midst of intense combat, it might be impossible to sincerely chant the name, but if he were being pursued and cornered, he could flee into the Lanke Temple!

It was practically a “life-saving mantra,” similar in function to the Samsara Talisman!

The only drawback was that it seemed to work only within this world.

Meng Qi was both surprised and delighted. Who wouldn’t like to have an extra “life-saving mantra”?

Just moments ago, he had secretly lamented his mistake—after seizing the “Kurong Bodhi,” he should have immediately used the Samsara Talisman instead of relying on Yun He. That way, he would have at least secured the inheritance once.

Of course, there were risks. For instance, Prince Zhao Qian, the former heir, seemed to have some connection with Myth. If Myth had learned the secret of the Samsara Talisman, Meng Qi would be in grave danger. Chong He and Yun He wouldn’t know where he had gone, making it impossible for them to assist him, while others could “guard his body.” Meng Qi had considered this and thus refrained from activating the Samsara Talisman directly. Later, when Yun He fled successfully and everything went smoothly, Meng Qi still chose not to use it.

More importantly, was the Yueling Mani Bodhisattva’s intervention merely a response to circumstances, or had he deliberately “misled” Yun He’s escape route, leading them directly to the temple? If it was the latter, Meng Qi wouldn’t have been able to use the Samsara Talisman at all from the beginning!

Although he had missed the chance to directly obtain the inheritance, he could still gain insights repeatedly. This “life-saving mantra” somewhat compensated for other losses. Not bad at all.

Regaining his composure, Meng Qi sat cross-legged in front of Zhen Hui, Hong Neng, and the other Dharmakāya cultivators, half-closing his eyes. He gradually extended his consciousness toward the “Withered Bodhi” in his hands, not probing deeply but gently activating its power.

This was a method of enlightenment, not acquisition. Within the Pure Land of a true Bodhisattva, Meng Qi dared not play any tricks. Even if the Bodhisattva wouldn’t kill him, he might still be forced to listen to Buddhist scriptures for ten years in the Lanke Temple.

As he activated it, the Kurong Bodhi gently swayed, as if sheltering a monk beneath its branches. Half of its leaves turned greener and more vibrant, while the other half grew drier and more subdued.

Suddenly, Meng Qi felt himself transformed into the monk beneath the tree, but then he drifted away, becoming one of the listeners beside him.

The monk beneath the tree had a full face, a protuberance on his head, and spiral curls of hair. His expression shifted—sometimes sorrowful, sometimes compassionate, sometimes solemn, sometimes dignified, sometimes a golden body of sixteen feet, sometimes towering like heaven and earth, manifesting countless forms.

“…All appearances are illusory… When one sees that all appearances are not truly appearances, one sees the Tathagata…”

His voice was not loud, yet it carried a majestic resonance, clearly echoing in Meng Qi’s ears.

Meng Qi appeared to comprehend, yet at the same time, it felt as though he grasped nothing. Mesmerized, he gazed as golden sala flowers drifted down from the sky, while springs gushed forth from the earth, blossoming into lotuses.

Behind the monk beneath the tree, countless golden Buddhas appeared in the air—Amitabha, Bodhi, Dipamkara, Sikhin, and countless others, all paying homage to the central figure.

Great Bodhisattvas like Maitreya and Avalokiteshvara were also present, murmuring softly:

“Thus have I heard!”

Around the Kurong Bodhi, a luminous world unfolded, revealing an infinite sea of suffering. The monk’s halo radiated brilliant light, illuminating the dark and profound “waters,” with distant glimmers echoing far away.

The monk preached endless sutras, and the Udumbara flowers in the air condensed into massive characters—neither Sanskrit nor seal script—directly pointing to the heart, even forming ten thousand characters.

These golden words continuously revolved around Meng Qi, sometimes entering him, sometimes flying out.

Immersed in the atmosphere of the Buddha’s teachings, Meng Qi’s mind conjured up a majestic golden Buddha. With one hand pointing to the heavens and the other touching the earth, the solemn figure radiated boundless Zen wisdom. A grand and sublime voice resonated from its lips:

“Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one.”

The monk under the tree suddenly stood up, took seven steps in a circle, then pointed one hand to the sky and touched the ground with the other, his noble countenance radiating solemnity.

“Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one.”

With a resounding boom, the golden Buddha within Meng Qi’s mind seemed to manifest countless swastikas and sacred verses, its Zen chants continuously reverberating and shaking his primordial spirit. His hands swiftly shifted through countless mudras, too numerous to discern clearly, yet ultimately they returned to their original form—one finger pointing to the heavens, the other touching the earth, filling the Three Realms with an aura of supremacy: “I alone am the honored one!”

Suddenly, Meng Qi’s primordial spirit was struck by an intense pain, rendering him unable to continue his enlightenment. The golden Buddha before his eyes vanished, the monk beneath the tree disappeared, and even the myriad Buddhas of the ancestral temple faded away—only the “Withered and Flourishing Bodhi” remained standing before him.

“It seems this cannot be achieved overnight. It requires gradual growth and gradual realization. Being able to grasp even a superficial understanding now is already quite good…” Meng Qi sighed inwardly.

However, it’s already quite impressive to grasp even a glimpse of the “Supreme and Peerless” essence. Back then, Jiang Zhiwei also only managed to grasp a glimpse of the “Sword Without Self” essence!

“It’s probably impossible to simulate without at least a year or two…” Rubbing his temples, Meng Qi suddenly sensed the atmosphere growing tense and noticed that all the Dharma Bodies were staring at him, with only Zhenhui looking utterly confused.

“Junior Brother, what’s wrong?” Meng Qi transmitted his voice to Zhen Hui.

Even if it can be eavesdropped on, it can’t be asked openly.

Zhenhui shook her head with a puzzled expression, “What do you mean, what’s wrong?”

“Why is everyone looking at me?” Meng Qi asked in confusion.

Zhenhui replied matter-of-factly, “Since you’re the only one meditating, of course everyone is watching you.”

…Meng Qi felt that communicating with his junior brother was as exhausting as ever.

The “Moon Mani Light King Bodhisattva” of Lanke Temple said in an unchanged tone, “Have all benefactors agreed upon the order?”

Chonghe, with hair as white as snow, chuckled and said, “Fellow Daoists have agreed to let this old man take advantage of his seniority.”

Originally, it was categorized by age. But when it comes to actual strength, some might be hard to distinguish… Meng Qiwei nodded slightly in agreement.

Chong and Fei flew into the Lanke Temple, sitting cross-legged before the Bodhisattva of Withering and Flourishing, stirring the leaves to sway.

Half a cup of tea later, Chonghe opened his eyes, filled with deep contemplation. It was unclear what enlightenment he had gained or whether it would be of any help to his current predicament.

Chong He said no more and switched places with Kong Wen. He then sent a voice transmission to Mr. Lu Da, “explaining” the events of the day. He mentioned that Meng Qi had first encountered him, but since he himself was intent on seizing the Divine Palm and there were barriers between Buddhism and Taoism, it was inconvenient for him to intervene. Therefore, he had sent Meng Qi to the Hua Mei Villa in Northern Zhou.

This provides a reasonable explanation for Meng Qi’s sudden appearance at Huamei Villa despite being in the Western Regions.

Mr. Lu Da had collaborated with Chong He on multiple occasions and shared a close personal friendship. Unconcerned about the details, he gave a slight nod upon hearing this and refrained from further inquiries.

Kong Wen sat motionless for a full quarter of an hour before finally rising to his feet, leaving Meng Qi utterly dumbfounded.

“Abbot Fangzhang sat a little longer than you, Senior Brother!” Zhenhui exclaimed as if he had made some astonishing discovery.

Meng Qi frowned and asked, “Have I been sitting here for a long time?”

“I’ve been with Senior Brother Bi Chong for quite a while,” Zhenhui answered honestly.

“Any visions?” Meng Qi pressed on.

Zhenhui shook her head, expressing a hint of disappointment.

It turns out that prolonged enlightenment attracts the attention of the Dharmakaya… Meng Qi felt relieved. He had the first form, while Abbot Kongwen possessed the third form—was that why their enlightenment took longer?

If that’s the case, Abbot Kongwen can be considered to have turned misfortune into a blessing!

One by one, the people present flew into the Pure Land to gain enlightenment. The order was not strictly based on age but prioritized those with Dharma Bodies first, followed by others. The Buddhist practitioners spent a longer time in contemplation, especially the Vajra Temple masters who had mastered the Fifth Style—their duration was the longest, second only to Kong Wen, which overshadowed Meng Qi’s unusual condition.

However, there was one exception—Mr. Lu Da. He hovered in mid-air, simply observing the others’ epiphanies, his eyes devoid of any trace of greed, clear and pure. When someone questioned him, he merely smiled and shook his head, offering no explanation, his attitude resolute.

“Since we’ve met by chance, it must be fate. Hongneng and Zhenhui, you should also go and seek enlightenment.” Since the “Withered and Flourishing Bodhi” wouldn’t end up in his hands anyway, Meng Qi generously invited his junior brother and Hongneng, who had once saved his life, to experience its wisdom.

The esteemed experts and powerful figures present were all busy consolidating their gains, with no time to bother with juniors. The Moon Mani Bodhisattva of Lankesi Temple also remained silent, tacitly permitting the situation. Zhenhui, ever carefree and slow to react, simply smiled and settled before the “Withered and Flourishing Bodhi Tree,” quietly immersing himself in contemplation.

With this incident, Meng Qi gained a deeper understanding of his stance toward the Bodhisattva of Lanke Temple. In the future, if he wanted to bring others here for enlightenment, it seemed entirely feasible—after all, he was the rightful owner, while Lanke Temple merely acted as a “custodian.”

The withered and flourishing Bodhi tree swayed once more, this time for nearly a quarter of an hour—only slightly shorter than Kong Wen’s duration—leaving Meng Qi utterly dumbfounded.

Although Meng Qi wasn’t surprised that a junior brother who had cultivated the Flower-Picking Finger with such speed and progress could be granted special permission to comprehend the third stance of the “Tathagata Divine Palm,” he still shouldn’t have surpassed the time taken by the Vajra Temple’s grandmaster!

As for myself, I am no longer a practitioner of Buddhist meditation, and my childlike heart is not as pure as my junior brother’s—so there is no need for comparison.

The withered and flourishing Bodhi tree ceased its swaying, while Zhenhui remained seated in meditation, a serene smile on his face, embodying the profound essence of Zen.

“What’s wrong with Junior Brother?” Meng Qi saw Abbot Kongwen land beside Zhen Hui.

Kong Wen chuckled and said, “He’s asleep.”

Sleep, sound asleep… Meng Qi’s lips twitched.

Kong Wen mentioned Zhen Hui and said to Meng Qi with a smile, “This sleep will likely last a year or two. The insights were too numerous and profound, overwhelming his primordial spirit and plunging him into slumber.”

“Will it not stop on its own?” Meng Qi felt relieved but couldn’t help silently complaining. However, upon second thought, given this guy’s usual behavior, not stopping automatically was actually the norm.

After Hongneng finished his enlightenment, the Bodhisattva of Lanke Temple spoke calmly and without fluctuation: “I have made a great vow—not to attain Buddhahood, nor to see the Tathagata. Therefore, the Withered and Flourishing Bodhi Tree is placed before the temple gate, and all may come to contemplate it at any time.”

Hearing this, everyone bid their farewells one by one, leaving only Kongwen and Master Yunhe behind.

“Benefactor Su, as this old monk once said…” Kongwen gently supported Zhenhui and turned his gaze towards Meng Qi, intending to fulfill his earlier promise.

Meng Qi quickly waved his hand and said, “Abbot, there’s no need to say more. I have only one wish—that my master, the Venerable Xuanbei, may enter the upper level of the relic pagoda to meditate and attain enlightenment, thereby making amends for himself.”

Kongwen smiled kindly and said, “Wouldn’t you like to hear this old monk’s repayment? It might be far more precious than this matter.”

Meng Qi shook his head and turned away, “No need. I fear it would break my heart to hear it.”

Recalling all the things his master had done for him and realizing he could finally repay the kindness, Meng Qi felt a profound sense of relief and vitality in both body and spirit.

Ha ha! He burst into laughter, becoming even more carefree as he flew away.

A true man in this world must repay kindness with kindness and vengeance with vengeance!

Kong Wen watched Meng Qi’s receding figure and sighed to himself, thinking, “At such a young age, to be free from greed is truly commendable…”

……

Before the disappearance of Lanke Temple, a sudden downpour from the sky turned the area between Yuhai and Tanhan into a vast lake, comparable in size to the entire state of Hale. Nearby undercurrents flowed, vegetation flourished, transforming it into a massive oasis brimming with life.

Meng Qi dove into the water, his eyes sharp and alert as he scanned the surroundings. He urged repeatedly, “Master Yunhe, quickly cast your Taoist magic! We can’t let others get ahead of us!”

On his way back to the Immortal Trace, he detoured near the Fish Sea. This was a battlefield of Dharma Bodies, where remnants of treasures might still be found—such as the blood of demon kings or the limbs of Dharma Bodies, all of which were excellent materials for crafting divine weapons!

Although the Dharma Body masters themselves might not care for it, their younger disciples certainly would. Therefore, we must not be careless or waste any time—even if it means enlisting the help of that counterfeit old man, Yunhe!

I’m just that kind of money-grubbing person!

(Note: “money-grubbing” is a strong term meaning excessively greedy for money. For a slightly milder tone, you could also use “money-hungry” or simply “greedy for money”)