Chapter 24
After putting away the chessboard, the three of them went to Liaowu’s room to discuss the preaching competition.
The room wasn’t large. A bed and several large boxes filled with scriptures and notes were placed in the corner. A table and chairs were by the window. A teapot, teacups, and a worn book lay on the table.
Frankly, the room was rather spartan.
Not even a single vase.
“You haven’t finished reading this travelogue yet?” Heng Yu asked.
Liaowu sat down at the table and poured three cups of tea. “I read a few pages when I have free time. This travelogue is quite helpful for my cultivation.”
The monk Yuanjing, who wrote this travelogue, was famous three hundred years ago. His circumstances were somewhat similar to Liaowu’s, so many of the problems he encountered and the insights he gained were enlightening to Liaowu.
Heng Yu accepted the tea and asked, “Do you still have the two Buddhist stories I gave you earlier?”
Liaowu, though puzzled, nodded and took out the paper from his storage ring.
Seeing that he hadn’t thrown away the paper with the stories, Heng Yu smiled happily.
His actions were so easy to please her.
It wasn’t intentional, but that made his thoughtfulness even more apparent.
Heng Yu thought inwardly that if it were Wu Mei or Mu Huan, those two demonic women wouldn’t be able to resist trying to seduce this holy man.
Her thoughts wandered, and Heng Yu coughed lightly, quickly composing herself.
She asked Liaowu, “In your heart, are Buddhist teachings solemn?”
“Yes.”
“If I want to make them more approachable and relatable to ordinary people, would you accept it?”
Liaowu looked at her.
Recalling the paper with the Buddhist stories in her hand, he seemed to have guessed her intentions.
“Lord Luo wants to write Buddhist stories to spread the teachings?”
Liaonian, who had no idea about the Buddhist stories, was completely confused.
Seeing his confusion, Heng Yu handed him the paper.
She said to Liaowu, “Besides Buddhist stories, there are also easy-to-remember Buddhist verses. I also want to illustrate these stories to make them easier for people to understand.”
Even within the Undying Sect’s territory, there were rich and poor, and many poor people couldn’t read. To help them understand Buddhist teachings, illustrations would be much more effective than written scriptures.
Liaowu thought for a moment, not immediately agreeing.
He asked Heng Yu, “Could Lord Luo give me an example?”
Heng Yu snapped her fingers.
There was no need to give examples of Buddhist stories.
As for Buddhist verses, there were sayings like “Meat and wine pass through the intestines, but Buddha stays in the heart. If the world imitates me, it’s like entering the demonic path”; Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva’s vow, “Hell is not empty, I vow not to become a Buddha”; and “Bodhi is not a tree, the bright mirror is not a stand. Originally, there is nothing. Where can dust alight?”…
Of course, Liaowu knew about Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, but he had never heard of the Bodhi verse.
To help him understand, Heng Yu explained the story behind the verse.
“Of course, I don’t know much about Buddhism.”
“If you think this method is feasible, you can give me stories about Bodhisattvas, Buddhas, or Buddhist cultivators of the Undying Sect, and I’ll adapt them into short, engaging stories.”
Heng Yu concluded.
She didn’t expect Liaowu and Liaonian to understand the term “artistic license” : )
Since she had proposed this method, she would do the hard work of adapting these stories.
After hearing Heng Yu’s explanation, Liaonian was very interested.
He raised his hand excitedly. “Like the story of Buddha cutting his flesh to feed an eagle? Or the story of the Undying Sect’s founder, Lian Shangnie? Or the story of the Joyless Buddha-son, Wule, who passed away leaning against a wall…”
Heng Yu nodded repeatedly.
She was about to start writing when she realized she didn’t have paper and a brush.
Tapping her fingers on the table, she gave Liaowu a meaningful look. “Senior Brother Liaowu, you should know how to read between the lines. For example, right now, I happen to need paper and a brush.”
Liaonian jumped off his chair enthusiastically. “No need to trouble Senior Brother. I’ll get them.”
Heng Yu: “…”
This little monk was quite proactive.
Liaonian brought over brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone. He fetched clean water and was about to roll up his sleeves to grind the ink when Liaowu had already done so.
After grinding the ink, he put down the ink stick and pushed the inkstone towards Heng Yu.
“Lord Luo, please.”
Heng Yu raised an eyebrow, rolled up her right sleeve with her left hand, picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and began writing on the clean paper.
Her calligraphy practice had paid off.
Her handwriting was now elegant and unique.
After writing down the story of the Joyless Buddha-son, Wule, Heng Yu began adapting it.
[Wule was orphaned at a young age and lived a difficult life. Later, due to his fate with Buddha, he joined the Undying Sect and became a Buddha-son. His profound understanding of Buddhist teachings earned him the respect of the world.
One day, while chanting scriptures with his eyes closed, Wule suddenly opened his eyes and said to his disciples: ‘There exists an immeasurable Buddha realm, filled with red lotuses and resounding with Buddhist chants. It is a paradise on earth.’
After saying this, he closed his eyes.
The disciples looked at each other, checked his breathing, and realized that Wule had passed away. They exclaimed: ‘The Buddha-son has achieved enlightenment!’]
After Heng Yu finished writing, Liaonian hurriedly came over to read it.
After reading it, he looked confused. “What’s the immeasurable Buddha realm?”
Heng Yu said, “The place where Buddha resides.”
Liaonian was very honest. “But in the story I told you, Buddha-son Wule never said such a thing. He simply opened his eyes, said he sensed his time was near, and passed away.”
Those words, “There exists an immeasurable Buddha realm, filled with red lotuses and resounding with Buddhist chants. It is a paradise on earth,” and “The Buddha-son has achieved enlightenment!”…
None of these appeared in his version of the story!!!
Heng Yu asked, “Which version is better, yours or mine? Which one is more likely to inspire people to believe in Buddhism?”
Liaonian was stunned.
He quickly understood what Heng Yu was doing.
Wasn’t this blatant deception?
But… as she said, her version was more likely to promote Buddhism.
Unable to decide, Liaonian looked at Liaowu.
Liaowu silently took the paper.
After reading the content, he chuckled. “This…”
“Hmm?” Heng Yu looked at him.
Liaowu commented, “Is quite interesting.”
Heng Yu understood and gave Liaowu a meaningful look.
It seemed this Buddha-son wasn’t so rigid after all.
Indeed, when spreading Buddhist teachings and attracting believers, one should be flexible with their methods.
She had only made some minor artistic adjustments, and the little monk was already so surprised.
If she completely rewrote the story, keeping only the fact that there was a “Wule,” wouldn’t Liaonian be scared out of his wits!?
Liaowu pretended not to notice her look.
The story Lord Luo wrote was essentially a glorified version of Buddha-son Wule’s death.
She was embellishing it, glorifying Buddhism, not deliberately slandering it.
Everything she was doing was for his wager. Liaowu wasn’t ungrateful. So… a little harmless deception was acceptable.
“Lord Luo, please continue writing as you see fit. I’ll also compile the relevant stories, and I’ll trouble Lord Luo to adapt them into short stories like this.”
Liaowu joined his hands together and said softly.
After speaking, he went to the corner and brought over another set of brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone.
He spread out the paper and began writing.
As the two of them wrote, Liaonian sat there, completely confused —
Had he said something wrong? It didn’t seem so.
Then why wasn’t Senior Brother on his side? Was he really wrong?
After pondering for a long time, Liaonian finally understood.
He couldn’t help but look dejected: Senior Brother, are you abandoning your principles in this matter!
After working for more than two hours, Heng Yu had written eighteen Buddhist stories and extracted ten Buddhist verses from them.
Along with the two stories she had given Liaowu earlier, they now had twenty stories in total.
Heng Yu gathered all the papers. “I’ll refine these stories and add illustrations in the next few days.”
Liaowu sighed softly.
He couldn’t let her do all the work for his Buddhist matters.
After thinking for a moment, he asked, “If Lord Luo doesn’t mind, could you spare some time to teach me how to illustrate these stories?”
“Do you want to learn?”
“I’m somewhat interested.”
Heng Yu smiled. “Then I’ll teach you tomorrow. I need to go practice my swordsmanship now.”
Leaving the room, Heng Yu bid farewell.
Passing by the market below the temple, she saw a vendor selling potted weeping crabapple trees.
Her gaze lingered on the flowers, and the vendor, noticing her interest, asked with a smile, “Miss, would you like to buy one? The weeping crabapples are in full bloom now. Having one by the window can brighten your mood.”
The weeping crabapples were indeed in full bloom, their faint fragrance filling the air.
Heng Yu squatted down and chose the most beautiful one. “I’ll take this one.”
After paying, Heng Yu returned to Qingyun Temple.
Looking through the window of Liaowu’s room, she saw him organizing scriptures.
She walked over quickly and smiled. “Interested in taking care of a flower?”
Liaowu looked up.
He stood up and reached out his hand.
Heng Yu handed him the potted weeping crabapple.
Seeing him carefully examine the plant, Heng Yu waved her hand. “Let’s go.”
As she turned to leave, her skirt swirled in the air.
Liaowu stepped out of the room and watched her leave.
After she was out of sight, he returned to his room and placed the weeping crabapple on the windowsill. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting the plant’s shadow on the table.
Back in her courtyard, Heng Yu continued practicing her swordsmanship.
After completing another thousand swings, she went to her study, sat down, took out the papers with the Buddhist stories, and began drawing simple illustrations to accompany them.
She used a simple style, focusing on depicting the scenes.
So, she progressed quickly.
After finishing the illustrations for three stories, Heng Yu rubbed her wrist and returned to the courtyard to continue practicing swordsmanship.
As her wrist became sore, Heng Yu thought smugly: It was good that Liaowu had offered to learn how to draw. This way, she could slack off for the next few days.
The next morning, Heng Yu went to Qingyun Temple again.
She didn’t actively teach him anything but simply placed the finished illustrations in front of Liaowu.
“Take a look. This is the general style.”
With Liaowu’s intelligence, he should be able to learn quickly with a reference.
There was no need for her to teach him further.
Liaowu carefully examined the illustrations.
After looking through them all, he seemed to understand Heng Yu’s approach.
“Try drawing some yourself. I’ll point out any problems,” Heng Yu suggested.
Liaowu spread out the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone and began drawing carefully.
Heng Yu had just finished practicing swordsmanship, and the ointment hadn’t worn off yet, so her wrist was still sore. She didn’t want to draw with Liaowu.
She went to the next room and dragged Liaonian out to play chess with her.
For the next five days, the three of them focused on compiling the Buddhist stories.
With enough manpower, they were very efficient, and the quality of their work was excellent.
After finishing, Liaonian went to find the abbot and asked him to help print a thousand copies.
The abbot listened to Liaonian and casually flipped through the compiled stories.
The more he read, the more impressed he became.
After finishing the booklet, the abbot sighed softly. “No wonder that Benefactor Luo is fated with Buddhism. Her wisdom root is truly rare.”
After praising Heng Yu, the abbot looked at Liaonian and agreed to help.
He even offered to print more copies to distribute to the monks in the temple and the worshippers.
Liaonian joined his hands together. “Amitabha. Lord Luo said that as long as it benefits the spread of Buddhism, we can do as we please with this booklet.”
The abbot also joined his hands together and chanted a Buddhist prayer.
Time flew by, and on the day of the agreed-upon competition, Xiaoyaozi, whom they hadn’t seen for a while, appeared at the gate of Qingyun Temple in his blue Daoist robes.
He flicked his duster, his demeanor hostile.
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