Chapter 179 — Resolution

"Your natural gifts are keen, such as the world rarely sees; but more important still is that you possess another layer of understanding in the study of Buddhism and its truths. In those years, among us four senior and junior brothers, it was in truth your Uncle Pu Zhao who was the most brilliant. A pity that though he was clever, he took the wrong road, squandering his Buddhist learning in vain pursuit of some eternal life, and in the end came to a wretched fate. That you can awaken today is a blessing to you, and a blessing to our Brahma Sound Temple as well."

Fa Cheng was startled. He raised his head and looked at Master Pu Cheng. "Master, what do you mean by that? This disciple does not quite understand."

Master Pu Cheng shook his head. First he reached out and helped Fa Cheng to his feet; then the gladness on his face gradually faded, and he said lightly, "These years, your master has been mired day and night in worldly affairs, so that his understanding of the Buddhist teaching has stood still, while he has vainly borne this empty name in the world and spent half a lifetime in strife, unable after all to cast it off. When your Uncle Pu Zhao passed away in those years, your master already had a mind to retire from the world; but there was no one to carry on under the order, and faced with this foundation left by the patriarchs—mere things beyond the self though they are—I could not lightly cast them aside. Now that I have you, your master can go in peace."

Fa Cheng was greatly shocked, his face draining of color; he had just risen to his feet, and at once he knelt again, saying urgently, "Master, what words are these? How can the Brahma Sound Temple do without you? And besides, this disciple wishes to attend your side day and night, to listen to your teachings. I beg you, Master, by all means do not abandon this disciple and the monks of the Brahma Sound Temple to retire from the world." Having spoken, he kowtowed without cease.

Master Pu Cheng laughed despite himself, then sighed, drew Fa Cheng up, and said with a sigh, "Foolish child, foolish child—is there any banquet under heaven that does not end? But your master's retirement is not urgent; it cannot be accomplished in a day or two. You need not fret; only when everything is properly settled can I set my heart at ease."

Fa Cheng's eyes held tears, but in the end he knew that Master Pu Cheng's resolve to withdraw from the world could not be stopped. Fortunately, as his master had said, though the intention was there, there was as yet no urgency; when an opportunity came in the days ahead, he would plead with his master properly once more. With this thought he held back his tears and stood to one side.

Master Pu Cheng raised his head to look at the sky. The moonlight was clear and penetrating, desolate and beautiful. He gazed at it a long while, then suddenly said, "Let us go in and look at that young benefactor."

Fa Cheng started. "What?"

Master Pu Cheng said lightly, "Right and wrong, straight and crooked, gratitude and grievance, love and hate—whatever it may be, in the end there must be a result." Having spoken, he said no more, and walked toward the little room. Fa Cheng slowly followed behind him, watching that door draw nearer and nearer, and somehow his heart grew tense.

A day and a night had passed. Within that room, facing Uncle Pu Zhao, what on earth had Ming Li done?

And what, in turn, would he do?

The answer appeared before them at the moment they lifted the curtain, pushed open the wooden door, and quietly stepped into the room.

In the empty, bare room, the silver radiance of the "Jade Ice Disk" still flickered.

Nothing—nothing at all—had happened!

The dharma body of Pu Zhao remained seated on the jade ice disc, while opposite him, Ming Li—or rather, Zhang Qingyue—sat cross-legged with his back to Masters Pu Cheng and Fa Cheng, silently gazing at Pu Zhao's face within the faint glow.

Master Pu Cheng drew a deep breath and was about to speak when he sensed a movement behind him. Turning, he saw Fa Cheng gently tugging at his sleeve; once the master looked back, Fa Cheng signaled with his eyes, directing him toward the ground beneath Ming Li.

Master Pu Cheng turned to look, and his brow knit at once. Everything in the room appeared unchanged—save for the floor where Ming Li sat. Within a three-foot radius of him, the grey bricks had split apart entirely, a dense web of fine cracks crawling across the ground. The closer to his body, the tighter the cracks; within a foot of him, the bricks were no longer cracked at all, but had crumbled completely to powder.

What had happened to Ming Li over that day and night, no one knew. Perhaps no one ever would.

Master Pu Cheng walked slowly over to stand before Ming Li, glanced at the ground at his feet, and said in a calm voice, "Benefactor, you have sat here a full day and night. Have you thought it through?"

Slowly Ming Li drew his gaze back from Pu Zhao's dharma body and looked at Master Pu Cheng. The master's heart lurched. Ming Li's face was ashen, his features worn with exhaustion; he had sat here only a day and night, yet his face bore the dust and hardship of a hundred years in this world.

Master Pu Cheng pressed his palms together and softly chanted, "Amitabha."

Ming Li rose slowly to his feet, but as he straightened, his body suddenly shuddered, and he seemed unsteady. Fa Cheng and Pu Cheng both frowned; Fa Cheng was about to step forward and steady him when Ming Li had already regained his footing, drew a deep breath, and stood straight once more, facing Master Pu Cheng.

At a glance his body was plainly frail, yet somehow, in that moment, he seemed as towering and unyielding as Mount Sumeru.

"Master..." His voice was somewhat hoarse.

Master Pu Cheng pressed his palms together and said, "Yes. What would the young benefactor ask?"

"The dead should be laid to rest. You should... cremate Master Pu Zhao's dharma body and bury him!"

Master Pu Cheng and Fa Cheng both trembled at these words and looked at Ming Li. After a moment, Master Pu Cheng heaved a long sigh, as if deeply moved, and said in a low voice, "Benefactor, have you let go?"

Ming Li gave a bitter smile, glanced at Pu Zhao seated in the faint light, and the muscles in his face tightened and then relaxed. Slowly he said, "That master and I had only a single night's connection all those years ago, yet I once knelt before him and bowed my head to him willingly, calling him 'Master.' He saved me, and he ruined me—but without him there would be no me. The dead are gone. I am no disciple of the Buddhist faith, but I have always known that Buddhists hold rebirth above all things. Even at the point of death he refused to be buried, and from that I know the remorse in his heart..."

A chill breath faintly radiated from beside his hand. Master Pu Cheng and Fa Cheng sensed it almost at the same moment—that surging, uncanny demonic power: "The Blood-Devouring Orb's demonic force and malevolence were fierce; over the years I have felt them as my own, and so I understand something of what happened then." So saying, Ming Li slowly turned and walked toward the door, his hoarse voice breaking now and then into a cough or two.

Master Pu Cheng and Fa Cheng both stood behind him, pressing their palms together and chanting the Buddha's name toward his back. Master Pu Cheng then said, "The young benefactor's heart is kind and true, and it moves heaven and earth. This old monk thanks you here on behalf of my unworthy departed junior brother, Pu Zhao. I shall obey the benefactor's instruction and presently perform the rites, cremate my junior brother's dharma body, and lay him to rest. I only ask—before that, does the benefactor have any other wishes?"