Chapter 181 — The Wordless Jade Wall

The three followed the mountain road another half hour, winding among the high peaks and ridges, and before they knew it Fan Yin Temple lay far behind them, no longer in sight. Ming Li had not expected the rear mountains of Fan Yin Temple to be so much vaster than he had imagined. He saw ranges of layered green, the mountain breeze blowing gently; along the way strange crags jutted out in a thousand fantastic shapes, and here and there cliffs broke away in waterfalls that fell from the sky, roaring, like belts of jade.

Walking this road, he felt his heart and breast open wide, and gazing at the fine scenery near and far, he did not feel bored at all.

Suddenly he heard Fa Cheng ahead say, "Just ahead now."

Ming Li was startled and looked forward—but there ahead the mountain road still wound on, dense forest on one side, weeds and brambles on the other, and three chi beyond, a sheer cliff. Where was this Wordless Jade Wall over seven zhang high that they spoke of?

"May I ask, Senior Brother, where is this jade wall?"

Fa Cheng smiled, walked a few steps forward to the edge of the cliff, and said over his shoulder, "It is here."

Ming Li came to his side and stood upon the cliff, raising his eyes to look. Below the cliff the mist was thick, rolling like waves, surging without cease, as though it were a valley. And in the distance he could vaguely make out the blurred shapes of mountains, all very far away.

Ming Li pondered, then turned to Fa Cheng and said, "Is it within this valley?"

Fa Cheng smiled and said, "It is beneath our very feet."

Ming Li started, and Fa Cheng was already saying with a smile, "Let us go down." With that he leaped from the cliff, and Fa Jing followed at once. Ming Li stood on the cliff, considered a moment, and leaped down as well.

In the mist, Shi Po flickered with a dark blue-green light, slowly enfolding Ming Li, sheltering him as he descended.

The mist here seemed somewhat strange—thick and yet not thick, tangled together like winding silk; for all the mountain wind blew upon it, not the least of it scattered. As he fell, Ming Li peered toward the cliff face, but saw only a expanse of white mist, and could see nothing at all.

Alarmed and doubtful, he urged Shi Po and drew a little nearer the cliff face; the mist parted like cloud layers, sliding away to either side before his eyes. And just as he was concentrating, suddenly a human figure appeared before him.

Ming Li's heart jolted; he hastily checked his descent and looked closely—and this shock was far greater still, for there before him stood, unmistakably, a Ming Li identical to himself, staring at him in astonishment.

That man's gaze was deep, and upon his face there was even a look of vicissitude; in his hand, too, he held a Shi Po demon staff. And just as Ming Li stood stunned, suddenly from beyond the sky came a chant of Buddha—deep as a great bell or drum—echoing heavily at his ear.

With that chant, a solemn power in an instant surged up from the nameless ground beneath his feet, rushing skyward like a vast flood, and at once the surrounding mist rolled in and swallowed that figure, which vanished. Ming Li felt a pain in his heart, and the cold qi within him stirred of itself without being urged, as though utterly repelled by this Buddha aura, rising of its own accord to resist.

In his astonishment, Ming Li felt that within him, besides the demonic power of the Blood-devouring Bead stirring restlessly, the Great Brahma Prajna of his own cultivation seemed, under the influence of the Buddha aura here, unwilling to yield, leaping up as if to try conclusions with the demonic power of the Blood-devouring Bead.

Before it had even begun, such vast changes had come over his own body—the earth-qi of this place was truly beyond comprehension. Astonished at heart, Ming Li for a moment forgot the strange figure he had seen in the mist, and only urged his own cultivation to guard his heart veins as he slowly descended.

Soon the mist grew thin, and the scene below at once grew clear: a small stone platform, rather smooth, some three zhang across, with sparse trees about it, and seated around it dozens of Fan Yin Temple monks. Their positions seemed neither near nor far, with no rule or order to them, yet something secret seemed to lie within—faint Buddha power flowed among them, and they had subtly formed an array.

Ming Li looked a few more times, and suddenly it seemed familiar; he thought carefully, and then recalled it—it was the shape of an ancient, clumsy script, the appearance of a Buddha's true word.

Ming Li soon touched the ground. Looking about, he saw that Fa Cheng and Fa Jing were already seated among the monks, palms pressed together in silence, eyes lowered, not glancing at him again. At the head of the monks sat none other than the abbot of Fan Yin Temple, Master Pu Cheng; and at his left hand below, Ming Li had seen before—it was the holy monk Pu Fang, who had that day shown such mighty power on Mount Cang Lan. But the monk seated at Master Pu Cheng's right hand below looked rather strange; Ming Li had never seen him before, yet his face was withered and his complexion sallow, as though he wore the hue of a dying man, and his aged look far surpassed Master Pu Cheng's. Ming Li did not know who he was, but to sit as an equal with the two holy monks Pu Cheng and Pu Fang, he was surely a personage of no small account in Fan Yin Temple.

Ming Li said no more, but bowed his head in salute to Master Pu Cheng. Master Pu Cheng returned the salute with palms pressed together and smiled, saying, "Young Benefactor has come."

Ming Li nodded and said, "Yes. But what would the Abbot have me do?"

Master Pu Cheng pointed to the platform and said, "Nothing else. Young Benefactor need only sit quietly upon that stone platform, regulate his breath and calm his heart, and sit for a few days."

Ming Li nodded, glanced back at the stone platform, then raised his head and looked around. Above, the mist was thick—where was the Wordless Jade Wall of legend? He could not help asking, "May I ask the Abbot, where is the Wordless Jade Wall?"

Master Pu Cheng smiled and said, "In a little while, young Benefactor will see it."

Ming Li started, nodded, and turned to take his seat on the stone platform, when all at once a shrill cry came faintly from the sky—wind, or the howl of some beast—piercing cloud and mist. Then a beam of dazzling radiance tore a rift through the dense fog and shot down, falling full upon Ming Li.

Ming Li fell back a step and looked up. Within the valley a strange rumbling rose, like rolling thunder, and the sea of dense fog suddenly heaved into waves, surging from a gentle drift into great billows. More and more fissures opened; the fog thinned, and beam upon beam, ray upon ray of radiance broke through.

Facing this prodigy of heaven and earth, Ming Li gazed a long while, until at last the fog scattered and the radiance poured down. In an instant all the world was a blaze of light so dazzling that no one could keep his eyes open. Only after a time did it slowly soften.

When Ming Li opened his eyes again, his body gave a jolt—he had caught sight of the legendary Wordless Jade Wall.

There before him, behind that little stone platform and beneath the broken cliff, a sheer wall hung like a mirror, dropping straight down, more than seven zhang high and four zhang wide. Its substance seemed jade and yet not jade, its surface incomparably smooth, mirroring the fair sights of sky and earth, the ranges near and far—all of it held within that jade wall. And Ming Li and the monks of Brahma Voice Temple beneath that precipice were no more than ants, utterly insignificant.

Beside the handiwork of heaven and earth, how small a thing is man!