Chapter 253 — The Monk's Heart Awakens

"Slay the Hierarch of the Dark Demon Cult!

Avenge our elder brothers! " For a moment the monks were beside themselves with fury and came swarming in to kill. Shen Mu frowned slightly, gave his body a shift, and the Ten-Thousand-Armed Vajra burst forth; Buddha-light surged, and through the Hall of Heavenly Dragons coiled the sound of Buddhist chanting, vast and resounding.

Shen Mu stood like an immovable great Buddha, meeting the blows that came at him from every direction head-on. Bang, bang, bang — the explosions came without cease, and one after another the monks were flung in all directions, toppling dragon pillar after dragon pillar; some snapped clean through, broken into three or four pieces. Shen Mu gave a shake, and the thousand arms vanished from before and behind him; the Buddha-light of a moment ago vanished as well.

He swept a glance over the monks sprawled every which way on the ground, flicked his sleeve and said: "This is your Great Thunderclap Temple's Eight Thunderclap Secrets — is it too a demonic art?

An art used for good is good; used for evil, even the Eight Thunderclap Secrets, even the Thunderclap Mahayana Sutra, is demonic! " Old Master Huo coughed once and said to the white-browed monk Jingming, who stood gaping beside him: "Elder brother, your Hall of Heavenly Dragons is in rather too much disorder. Best we move along to the Heart Zen Hall. " The white-browed monk Jingming looked at Shen Mu, anger seething in his heart — most of those Shen Mu had wounded or killed were his own disciples — but Old Master Huo and the blind elder were right there at his side, and he dared not act rashly.

Especially that blind elder beside him: though both eye-sockets were emptied and bare, the moment Jingming so much as stirred he felt a killing intent issue from the old man's body, forever circling at his throat. If he truly dared strike, that bamboo staff would surely pierce his throat the very next instant.

There was a flaw in his Thunderclap Mahayana Sutra, and it lay exactly at the throat; try as he might, he could never amend it. Nor did the other white-browed monks of the Hall of Heavenly Dragons dare to move.

Standing beside Old Master Huo and the blind elder, they felt as though two Mount Sumerus pressed down on them: one twitch and they would be crushed to powder. Sweat broke out on the monk Jingming's forehead. "Junior brother," he said, "your disciples have beaten my monks to death in my Hall of Heavenly Dragons, and wrecked the Hundred Dragons Painting.

.

.

" Old Master Huo said nothing. The blind elder sat perfectly at ease, leaning on his bamboo staff. "Elder brother Jingming," he said, "the tearing-down of the Hall of Heavenly Dragons today is trouble you brought on yourself.

Had you not named Shen as the Demon Cult's Hierarch, none of this would have happened. Do not let this matter grow; the bigger it grows, the harder it will be to clean up.

" A bead of cold sweat slid down the monk Jingming's forehead.

He coughed once, a sound like a great bell, and said: "The Hierarch Shen has come from afar as our guest. Let no monk act wilfully. All of you, withdraw. " At these words the other monks in the Hall of Heavenly Dragons felt a great weight lift; they hurried to help up the monks who had fallen.

"Shen," said Old Master Huo, "come back. " The blind elder said with a smile: "You have fought, you have smashed, you have spoken your piece.

We are guests, after all, and ought not be too outrageous. Old Master Huo says we are to move along to the Heart Zen Hall.

Are you not coming?

" Shen Mu assented. He bowed to the monk Chenghuai and said: "Little monk, if you cannot make a go of it in the Great Thunderclap Temple, you can come find me in the Heavenly Sacred Cult. " Chenghuai said doubtfully: "How would I fail to make a go of it?

My master treats me wonderfully, and my fellow disciples look after me well. I will not turn to the crooked path.

Nor should you — stop being the Demon Cult's Hierarch. Repent your evil and follow good before it is too late; would that not be best? The Buddha's law says: the sea of suffering is boundless, but turn your head and there is the shore. .

. " Shen Mu shook his head and said gravely: "You are a true monk. Sometimes a true monk has no place among the false monks of a temple. When the temple cannot hold you, you must go out into the world and seek your own Suchness, your own Great Awakening. Read fewer sutras. Of those who compile sutras, few are Tathagatas; if they cannot become Buddhas themselves, how can they point the way for you to become one? Destroy the Buddha in your heart. Destroy the Great Thunderclap Temple in your heart.

Then you are your own Buddha, the whole world is your Great Thunderclap Temple, and all living beings are your companions on the Way, your elder brothers. " He extended one finger and touched it to the hollow of Chenghuai's chest, smiling: "Here, in this place, dwells a true Buddha.

" Then he touched another finger to the center of Chenghuai's brow: "And here, in this place, dwells a false Buddha. Do not let faith become your demon, your fetter, your veil of delusion. What you should do is look up to heaven and down to earth, and keep your conscience blameless.

" "Set a scale in your heart and let it be your principle; weigh good and evil, right and wrong, the true and the crooked, Buddha and demon. Go out and walk more. Watch what people do, not what the sutras say. To sit in a temple thinking of good and evil, thinking of becoming a Buddha — that way you never will.

" Chenghuai's mind rang like a struck bell; he fell into thought.

Shen Mu turned and walked toward Old Master Huo, saluted the white-browed monk Jingming and the others, and said: "Forgive me, masters. I have disturbed your quiet.

" The monk Jingming and the rest returned the salute. "The Demon Cult's Hierarch is too courteous," they said. "Their cultivation is insufficient, and the Hierarch's demonic nature is too heavy; he is skilled at bewitching men's hearts and his hand is cruel beyond measure — a born old devil.

" Shen Mu shook his head. "My cultivation of mind is shallow. When others try to kill me, I can only hit back. The masters' cultivation of mind is deep — when others try to kill you, do you hit back?

" With that, with a ringing note, he drew the Chubao Sword, his gaze far from friendly.

The eyes of the white-browed monk Jingming and the others fell upon the glittering blade, and one by one they slowly shook their heads. Shen Mu slid the sword back and let out a breath, then smiled: "I had thought you masters of the Way could face death without fear, and honor or shame without fear. It turns out you are as I am — common men with too much of the demon in you. I take my leave.

Grandpa Huo, blind grandpa — what sort of place is the Heart Zen Hall? " Old Master Huo led them outward. "The Heart Zen Hall is where the Great Thunderclap Temple tempers the heart.

The practice there is unlike this place. For monks, the heart is cultivated first; in the Heart Zen Hall there are many monks who practice the silent-mouth meditation and never cultivate the tongue. " The blind elder let out a breath and smiled: "Silent-mouth is good. It saves you from telling them how monks really behave, and having them answer with Buddhist law; you tell them the temple rules need reform, and they answer with Buddhist law; you reason with them, and they answer with Buddhist law; you speak Buddhist law with them, and they start swinging fists. The unity of knowledge and action alone — that, these Buddhists cannot manage. " Old Master Huo hesitated, stopped, and said: "Then perhaps we will not go to the Heart Zen Hall after all.

" Shen Mu was startled and blurted: "The monks in the Heart Zen Hall are like that too?

" Old Master Huo shook his head.