Chapter 179 — Resolution
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 4 of 6
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?"