146: Chapter 145: Because of Jue Wu, Shedding the Kasaya 146: Chapter 145: Because of Jue Wu, Shedding the Kasaya The abbot brought his hands together and returned a bow, saying, “I wonder, Little Master, what progress have you made in understanding the ancient texts over these three days and nights?”
“Shamefully, shamefully, I have been trying constantly to comprehend this Buddhist Law for the past three days, but… alas, it is better left unsaid,” said the young monk, his face carrying a trace of desolation, looking quite disheartened.
The abbot was shocked.
This ancient tome was left behind after Grandmaster passed away in nirvana, claiming that anyone who comprehended the book would certainly reach the pinnacle of mastery.
But now, even the Little Master, who had the highest affinity with the Buddhist Law in the monastery, had not deciphered it, suggesting the immense difficulty of the book.
“Has there been any news of Senior Brother coming out of seclusion recently?” asked the young monk, his face calm, having entirely shed the disheartened look from moments ago.
“There has been no news of Grand Master coming out of seclusion.
Perhaps, Little Master, you should eat something first since you haven’t had a sip of water or a bite of food in three days.” As the abbot finished speaking, he gestured, and a monk brought in a bowl of vegetarian noodles from outside.
The aroma of the noodles was tantalizing, stirring the appetite greatly, but the young monk shook his head and said, “I took a vow before my master’s relics that until I decipher this book, I won’t eat.”
At that moment, a voice echoed within the monastery, reviving the somewhat weary monks with its words.
“Jue Wu, do you know why your master named you this on that day?” The voice was somewhat hoarse but very comforting to hear.
Jue Wu, the young monk, exited the grand hall and bowed to the little wooden hut from where the voice had originated.
Despite not having eaten for three days, Jue Wu’s body showed no signs of ailment but rather excitement upon hearing the voice.
“Amitābha, I am not aware, please enlighten me, Brother Guo Liang,” said Jue Wu as he sat on the ground, not minding the dust that clung to his kasaya.
The voice came again, “Twenty years ago on a winter’s night, your master found you at the doorstep, realizing that your worldly attachment was unresolved thus naming you Jue Wu, hoping that one day you would achieve great enlightenment and return to the land of Buddha.
However, your current obsession has led you astray.”
Upon hearing these words, Jue Wu felt as if he had been doused with cold water–he had dedicated his childhood to Buddhism, making rapid advances, praised as the one with the deepest religious calling at the temple, and now he was misled just for an ancient book, which was certainly improper.
A smile appeared on Jue Wu’s face as he stood up, somewhat agitated, and said, “Amitābha, Brother, your reprimand is apt.
I have learned my lesson.”
“I originally practiced the art of knowing fate but couldn’t decipher your destiny.
I only saw it connected with another by a fine thread.
You must venture into the mortal world to grow.
Perhaps it’s time for you to leave the mountain.”
At these words, all monks were struck dumb, even the head monk couldn’t help stepping forward, saying, “Grand Master, should we open a meeting of the Elder Council to discuss this?
After all, Little Master has never left the temple since his childhood, so hastily venturing into the world might be precarious…”
Before the abbot could finish, Guo Liang interrupted, “My mind is made up.
Tomorrow let Jue Wu descend the mountain.
Let no one speak further.
Where is Yinliang?”
A monk clad in a kasaya with a kindly face stepped out from the crowd.
Yinliang bowed to the wooden hut and spoke, “Yinliang is here.
What does Grand Master need of me?”
“You are the head of Outer Shaolin and understand worldly matters best.
You will accompany Jue Wu on his journey down the mountain.”
Yinliang agreed and stepped back into the group of monks.
The head monk of Inner Shaolin sighed, saying, “Since Grand Master insists, I shall speak no more.”
“Amitabha, Brother, I would like to see my master’s relics one last time.
Please grant me this wish,” said Jue Wu, who didn’t know much about worldly matters, his only understanding coming from Yinliang’s descriptions, which were as beautiful as flowers, the sight of which stirred Jue Wu’s heart.
After a moment of silence, Guo Liang said, “You can see them when you return to the temple.
For now, step back; Jue Wu, come to my room, I have a few words to instruct you.”
The monks retreated without a murmur of complaint, and Jue Wu walked to the door of the wooden hut, pushing it open to see an old monk in meditation, who was none other than Guo Liang.
Guo Liang, thin and sallow but with a resolute look that resembled that of an ascetic monk, sensed Jue Wu’s entrance and slowly opened his eyes, halting his chanting.
After the two exchanged a bow, Guo Liang sighed and said, “It has been long, disciple; the red threads around you have multiplied, suggesting that letting you experience the world might indeed be the right choice.”
“Brother, after I go into the world, please take good care of yourself in the temple, and do not let the pursuit of Buddhist Law wear you down,” said Jue Wu, pained at seeing Guo Liang’s frail frame.
Guo Liang smiled, shook his head, and said, “Disciple, you are attached to it.
This body is but a stinking bag of flesh; when the time comes, discard it and don’t grieve for me.”
Realizing he couldn’t dissuade the ascetic monk before him, Jue Wu didn’t waste words, “May I know why Brother has summoned me?”
“I called you here for two reasons.
First, our master had a message for you before he died, and now it seems the right time to tell you,” said Guo Liang, causing a gleam of hope to appear in Jue Wu’s eyes.
“Your path lies within you, therefore Jue Wu shed your kasaya,” said Guo Liang.
At these words, waves of confusion and realization crossed Jue Wu’s mind—true immersion in the world requires first disengaging from worldly possessions.
How could he achieve enlightenment without discarding his kasaya?
Having comprehended this, Jue Wu bowed again to Guo Liang.
“The second matter concerns your origins,” Guo Liang said shockingly.
The monks at the temple knew that this Little Master had been abandoned at the gates of Inner Shaolin on a bitterly cold December day.
If not for Grandmaster who had ventured down the mountain due to a craving for wine, Jue Wu certainly would have frozen to death.
“This peaceful knot was the only thing in your swaddle.
Your master mentioned that your swaddle was drenched in blood, assuming your parents were no longer alive.
On this journey, you might want to find someone to help you investigate; this is their current address.” Guo Liang handed over the peaceful knot and a slip of paper.
Jue Wu’s hands trembled as he took them; the knot made of red threads with golden borders was extraordinarily smooth, undoubtedly not an ordinary item.
Jue Wu took a deep breath, his lips pressed tightly, “I understand, Brother.
On this journey downward, if I don’t avenge this, I vow not to achieve Buddha.”
Hearing this, Guo Liang didn’t comment further but patted the tonsure scar on Jue Wu’s head, “Since you’ve made such a grand vow, follow your heart.
Although Buddha is often kind, there are days of wrath, yet do not let murderous intent cloud your inherent nature.”
Jue Wu nodded and stepped out, clutching the peaceful knot tightly, looking up at the night sky.