Darkness swallowed Qin Mu's sight in an instant, and when his consciousness woke again, he realized with horror that he was within the body of the statue!
"What has happened?"
He opened his eyes and tried to move his eyeballs, only to find that "his" eyeballs could indeed turn; then he tilted his head and discovered that his consciousness now had a head. He looked down and found that his consciousness had merged with the "statue"—the statue's hands and feet had become his own!
Consciousness had no form, yet his consciousness now had a form. Too strange by far! He felt that this "statue" was a kind of spirit: like energy yet not energy, like a soul yet not a soul, odd beyond all measure.
"Spirit Womb Divine Treasury… Is the statue, then, my Spirit Womb, and only when my consciousness enters it does the Spirit Womb awaken?"
Qin Mu's Spirit Womb blinked its eyes, and in a single instant understood many things. Within the human body lay hidden the Seven Divine Treasuries, of which the Spirit Womb Divine Treasury was the first. Yet it was sealed shut, and ordinary men could not open it, so could never awaken the Spirit Womb. But a spirit body's treasury was open from birth, so one had only to obtain the corresponding spirit blood to guide one's consciousness into the Spirit Womb and awaken it. The Spirit Womb—that was precisely this vessel of consciousness.
Was the Divine Treasury, then, not a womb gifted to men by god, but a womb that god had deliberately sealed away?
The moment this thought crossed his mind, primal qi surged in from outside, spilling into the sea of light. The little Spirit Womb breathed it in, wonderfully comfortable; and with every breath his primal qi became purer, golden light flecking it as it passed in and out, though to what purpose he could not tell.
He tried to make the Spirit Womb stand, only to find that this little infant could not rise, could not even shift its body.
"How does the Spirit Womb move? Hm, better to ask the Village Chief and Grandma later."
Just as Qin Mu was thinking this, his consciousness suddenly returned to his body, and he opened his eyes.
From the temple came a violent fit of coughing. The monster was not dead; it lay prostrate before the Buddha, coughing up blood. Qin Mu thought a moment, then stepped through the temple gate.
When the monster saw him actually enter the old shrine, it did not know whether to be frightened or glad, and hurriedly struggled to rise.
Qin Mu walked toward it even as he chanted: "Qikeduo samoye, banruo banruo samoye, Qikeduo banruo samoye!"
"Wretch, still so bold?!"
The monster's hairs stood on end. It heard the golden Buddha behind it stir anew, golden light blazing, chains rattling, dragging it once more to kneel!
"Om mani padme hum!"
The holy sound thundered, and the monster was refined until it coughed blood, downcast and limp.
Qin Mu stopped chanting, and the Buddha's holy sound too fell silent after a single cry. The monster beneath the image panted, about to rise, when the demonic sound came again from Qin Mu's mouth. The monster shrieked and hid behind the Buddha—yet the sound spilled out barely a syllable or two, then stopped.
"You—you are the demon…"
The monster cautiously poked its head out, its voice hoarse: "You are the demon! You are the great, cruel evil demon!"
Qin Mu did not answer, but walked straight before the Buddha image. He hesitated, then decided at last to follow the advice of the Blind One and said most respectfully: "Since my youth I have been weak of kidney and frail of body, and my primal yang leaked early…"
When the monster heard this, its eyes went round as saucers, and it laughed wheezingly even as it coughed blood: "Young lad, you speak to the Buddha of weak kidneys and a frail body? The Buddha won't plunder your vitality, you know!"
Qin Mu glared at it. "Qikeduo samoye…"
The Buddha image trembled. "Wretch!"
The monster's soul fled, and it begged for mercy: "Don't chant! Spare me!"
Qin Mu ceased his chanting, though the golden Buddha still intoned one true phrase, refining the monster until it coughed blood again.
Qin Mu strode about the place but found nothing of worth, though the mountain of white bones behind the Buddha did startle him.
The boy shook his head. "With the bones hidden behind the Buddha, the statue has become your accomplice, covering up your misdeeds so even more people fall into the trap. If I were to have the Buddha's hand refine you to death, I should be granting virtue to the statue, and that I will not do. Demoness, what treasures does this temple of yours hold?"
The monster trembled. "What treasures could I have? That bald thief sealed me here and stripped away all my treasures."
"Qikeduo…"
"Don't chant!"
The monster forced a smile. "After all these years of making my home here, besides the occasional feast to satisfy my tongue, I have salvaged a few good things. I'll give them to you." Struggling to rise, it limped up to the roof of the great hall and pried open a hidden panel.
From the niche, things came tumbling down: weapons of every sort, pieces of armor, and a few garments, mostly women's undergowns—yet by their material, they could only have belonged to folk of wealth and rank. "That is all there is," the monster smiled obsequiously.
Qin Mu frowned, disappointed. "Only this? No spirit pills or miraculous remedies?"
"Any such pills, I have already eaten them."
The monster stretched its centipede body, its joints cracking, and cackled, "I have been caged here too long. I would eat anything. The savor of spirit pills exceeds even that of those people. Do not look down on these weapons—they are treasures conceived within the Sixfold Divine Treasury, raised from birth by their own qi, of fearsome might. They are called spirit weapons!"
Qin Mu was half doubtful. He picked up a wild-goose-wing blade, shockingly heavy—heavier far than the butcher knife at his back, though the butcher knife was much larger; the one long and narrow, the other wide and thick.
Qin Mu took down the butcher knife and struck it gently against the other. With a clang, the wild-goose-wing blade snapped in two. The monster stared dumbly at the butcher knife, speechless; Qin Mu, disappointed, tossed the broken blade aside.
"That chopping-board of a knife you carry—who forged it?"
The monster shrieked, stammering: "A spirit weapon nourished by a master of the Sixfold Realm, one tap and it snaps! That chopping-board of a knife is not something an ordinary person could forge!"
Qin Mu stroked the butcher knife. The blade was icy cold, a chill cutting to his heart and lungs. It had been forged for him by the village blacksmith, the Mute, a famous smith; folk from other villages often came to have him forge cleavers, hoes, and plows.
"It is not made of common iron!"
The monster foamed at the mouth, crying, "Touch it! Is there a chill? If there is a chill, then it is Cold-Iron Gold Crystal!"
Qin Mu was surprised, and nodded. "There is indeed a chill."
The monster exclaimed in spite of itself: "Forging a whole chopping board out of Cold-Iron Gold Crystal? And with such excellent workmanship, to make a knife shaped like a chopping board? A desecration of treasure! A desecration of craftsmanship!"
Qin Mu glared at it, set the butcher knife on his back, then gathered up the weapons and treasures and carried them out of the broken temple to the temple gate.
The monster flew into a rage: "You already have such a fine weapon—why must you take away all my things?"
"Grandma said anything you seize with your own skill, you must carry away in full." Qin Mu turned back with a guileless smile. "I seized all your things with my own skill, so I must carry them all away."
The monster, half dead with fury yet daring not fall out with him, could only watch helplessly as he cleared out every treasure it had so painfully gathered.
"Is there some cloth here, a satchel or the like?" All at once Qin Mu poked his head close and asked.
"No!"
"Oh." Qin Mu drew his head back.
The monster crept out of the great hall and saw that beyond the temple Qin Mu was cutting bamboo from the islet. Before long he had built a bamboo raft, loaded the treasures upon it, and, taking up a bamboo pole, shoved off and sailed upstream.
"Who taught such a wicked child that he dares even to rob me?"
The monster stamped and raged and at last dared to curse aloud: "Is there no law left under heaven? He even asks me for a satchel to wrap his loot in! I am beside myself with fury!"