Chapter 251 — The Word-Spirit Slays the Heart

Seeing a familiar face, Shen Mu could not help but feel a certain warmth. From childhood he had run wild with the Blind Elder and the Lame Elder, and from the age he could first remember things he had studied every kind of knowledge under the nine elders of Yincan Village. He had not had so much as a playmate in his boyhood; it had been dry as dust.

Yet he had crossed blades with Monk Chenghuai only once, and they were of an age — a little warmth between them was only natural.

Monk Chenghuai chanted the Buddha's name, pressed down the anger that had risen in him, and smiled. "You beat me then, but you may not beat me now. After I lost to you I brooded long over the pain and mended the flaw I had. Shall we have another bout?"

Shen Mu was startled. "You mended the flaw at your throat?"

Chenghuai was pleased with himself. "Last time you cut me at the throat and I lost. This time I will never let you land the blow!"

Shen Mu blurted out, "Little Monk Chenghuai, you are how old, and you go tinkering at the Tingming Mahayana Sutra? With the eye and the understanding you have now, every change you make will only add more errors, more flaws! Rather than tinker blindly, you should go straight to the Tathagata and let the Tathagata teach you... Hmm. I tinker with my own arts too, and my arts have been altered by my own hand past all recognition, so I have no right to scold you."

Shen Mu flushed with embarrassment. He too had changed his arts: the Profound Body Three-Elixir Art he had altered more than once, and the Great Nourishing Dark Demon Sutra he had fused with the Profound Body Three-Elixir Art, thereby mending the flaw in that art's left shoulder.

To accuse Chenghuai of tampering with his art — that was the great fool laughing at the lesser fool. And who was to say Chenghuai had not truly wiped away the flaw at his throat?

Chenghuai was itching for it. "Then may I have the honor of your instruction?"

Shen Mu was about to answer when an old monk said suddenly, "Disciple, no insolence. This is Cult Master Shen of the Dark Demon Cult!"

Chenghuai started, and cried out, "Since when did you turn into the old demon chief of the Dark Demon Cult?"

Shen Mu sighed. "The details are hard to explain. I did not want it either, but I was shoved onto the cult master's seat by main force and have no choice but to sit in it."

He looked toward the old monk who had spoken: none other than the White-Browed Monk Jingming. This white-browed monk was Chenghuai's master, and he lived up to his name — a shrewd one to the bone. His loud announcement that Shen Mu was the demon cult master of the Dark Demon Cult had not been meant to warn Chenghuai at all, but to inform every monk present.

At that one shout, the many monks who had been poring over the Hundred Dragons Diagram all turned their eyes on Shen Mu, each murmuring the Buddha's name under his breath, plainly hard-pressed to keep himself in hand, unable to press down the urge to subdue demons and destroy devils.

Chenghuai said in alarm, "Then quit it, quick — don't be a demon cult master, people die for that! Our temple has many eminent monks who hate evil as their own enemy and are used to beating and killing demon chiefs. Every time they go out they must subdue a few demon chiefs to pile up merit. You will be beaten to death! I won't spar with you. Get down the mountain and go on the run, quickly."

Shen Mu shook his head. "I thank you for your kindness, but I am a guest here now. The Old Tathagata is my senior brother, and he has said I am to stay in the temple. Will they still subdue the demon, then?"

Chenghuai hesitated. "That I cannot say. Most likely they will come and debate with you, urge you to turn from evil and return to the right; and if you get the better of them in debate, most likely they will still beat you to death."

Shen Mu was speechless — and indeed, several monks were already walking his way.

"Amitabha!"

The first monk opened the attack, palms pressed together. "Demon chief, do you dare debate the Dharma with me?"

Shen Mu asked, "Are the four great elements empty in you?"

The monk blinked, then shook his head. "They are not."

"Then what Dharma is there to debate?"

Shen Mu laughed. "You have not attained the Way yourself. Six of your seven apertures are open, and the seventh is stopped dead; you are nothing but a false monk who can do no more than wag his tongue. Withdraw."

The monk was left gaping, and another hurried to his aid. "Demon chief, I will speak to you of truth, goodness, and beauty—"

Shen Mu asked, "Are you the Tathagata?"

The monk's face went red. "I am not yet the Tathagata..."

"Then the word 'truth' is not yours."

Shen Mu smiled. "The Tathagata is Suchness; he has won the word 'truth' and made it real. You yourself are not yet true, and you would speak of truth, goodness, and beauty? Withdraw. Do not parade your shame. Come back when you have done it. Do not demand of me what you cannot do yourself; do not be lenient with yourself and strict with others."

That monk had no answer. Another pointed a finger, and from the earth gushed a golden spring, and lotuses bloomed one after another. "The Buddha Dharma speaks of anuttara-samyak-sambodhi, the supreme perfect enlightenment, the highest wisdom and awakening..."

Shen Mu asked, "Have you attained that supreme wisdom and awakening?"

"I..."

"Withdraw."

Another monk laughed aloud. "The demon cult master has a glib tongue. You will not answer when I speak of sutras, so let me speak to you of worldly matters."

Shen Mu's interest kindled. "Great monk, hold your tongue a moment. Let me ask you: if every man served the Buddha, and no one labored, no one married, no one took a wife or gave a daughter, no children were born — in a hundred years, would the human race be extinct? What grudge, what feud do men have with you? Why would you exterminate the race of men?"

The monk was dumbstruck a moment. "That is not what I mean to speak of. Your Dark Demon Cult has done boundless evil; its sorceries are vile; you train your arts on living men..."

Shen Mu said, "And how does that compare with exterminating the race of men?"

The monk's eyes bulged; he swallowed his rage and shouted, "That is not the same matter at all!"

He went on in wrath, "What I speak of with you is not that! I speak of doctrine! The Great Tingming Temple has sutras by the tens of thousands, every one of them fit to be handed down through the ages, every one of them teaching men to do good!"

Shen Mu was astonished. "Your own Buddha gate is still a sink of filth, not yet cleaned out; the monks in your own temple do not do good — and you would teach others to do good? Fools love to set themselves up as teachers while they themselves fall short. Very well. You speak of doctrine; I will speak doctrine with you. The way of the sages is no different from the daily use of the common people. Your Buddha Dharma — can the common people use it in their daily lives? If they cannot use it, if it can only be kept in books, what is it good for? If it is of no use at all, better to burn it."

"You demon!"

The monk shook with fury and made to lunge at him, shouting, "Heresy and crooked doctrine! At the drop of a hat you would burn the sutras and destroy the Buddha! Truly your demon nature runs deep — I will fight you to the death!"

"Hold."

Shen Mu raised a hand, and smiled. "You mean to kill me. Let me ask you: does the Buddha Dharma permit you to take life?"

The monk halted, and forced down his anger. "The sutras urge men to do good and forbid the taking of life. But in the face of a demon chief, even the Lord Buddha has his days of wrath, his times for subduing demons!"

Shen Mu asked, "Is grass a living thing?"

The monk, sulking, said, "Of course it is."