Chapter 4 — The Great Vow
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 5
Then he lifted his head and looked toward the distant mountains.
At last rain began to fall from the sky.
Canglan Mountain stood amid wind and rain, hazy and mysterious.
"Daoist arts are truly wondrous—they can command the powers of the gods themselves. If they were cross-checked with our Buddhist teachings, each making up for the other's shortcomings, we could surely break through to the mystery of immortality. It is only a pity that Daoist Master Daoyan's cultivation far surpasses mine, yet in the end he is just like my three senior brothers—unable to let go of sectarian prejudice, unable to set aside status and position. Ah!"
Puzhao gave a long sigh, withdrew his gaze, and let it fall upon the two children. The rain was growing heavier now, soaking their heads and faces. The thatched temple had been blown apart in the earlier duel, and there was nowhere nearby that could fully shelter them from the wind and rain.
His heart suddenly tightened, and he could not help but worry for these two children. He had just forced his true essence into motion, using the wondrous "Great Brahma Prajna" art of the Brahma Sound Temple and the power of the Buddhist treasure, the "Jade Prayer Beads," to summon the great demon-subduing force that had blocked that villain's incomparably powerful "Divine Sword Thunder Command"—and even wounded him in return, sending him fleeing in alarm. But his own body was gravely injured, and he had taken a blow of Daoist sorcery head-on; his lamp was spent and the oil exhausted, even the last spark of life extinguished. Now he clung to life only through the Ghost Physician's strange medicine, the "Three-Day Death Pill," which bought him three more days.
"That demon was badly wounded, but his foundation is unharmed. Once I am gone, he will surely come back to silence all witnesses. Then not only these two children, but every life in the village will be in danger. This—this—what is to be done?"
Puzhao's mind was in turmoil. His cultivation was exceedingly high, but for one thing, he knew he was certain to die, and his spirit was already somewhat disordered; for another, he feared for the lives of innocent folk. And worse, that demon seemed to be a person of considerable standing within the Canglan Sect—if he rashly went up the mountain to seek help, he might do more harm than good.
Yet what he regretted most was something else: that his life's great vow could not be fulfilled. As one of the Four Divine Monks of Brahma Sound Temple, he was revered throughout the world, his honor and glory at their peak—but to him, what mattered more was piercing the mystery of life and death, untying the knot of immortality. Yet as early as fifty years ago he had already awakened to the truth that no matter how diligently he cultivated the Buddhist arts, he could only strengthen his power and practice; he could never unravel the mystery of life and death.
He brooded on it bitterly, and decades later he had truly hit upon an unprecedented solution. In the world today, the three teachings—Buddhism, Daoism and the Demonic—stood at their height, their mastery of the arts the deepest and most profound. The Demonic Sect had a foul reputation, its wicked arts cruel and inhuman, and was rejected by all. The Daoist arts, however, were profound and wondrous, each tradition excelling in its own domain; if the two could study together, they would surely break the deadlock.
But he had never imagined that his three senior brothers, always so broad-minded, would oppose him with one voice, calling it heresy and wild fantasy, and earnestly exhorting him against it without end. Unwilling to accept it, he had paid several visits to renowned Daoist houses, climbing Canglan Mountain alone a number of times—and each time been politely refused by Daoyan, the sect master of Canglan.