117. Black Sun

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Though called the Western Buddhist Kingdom, it is actually just to the west of Great Kang. The monks here refer to this land as the Central Buddhist Kingdom, meaning the center of the human world and the birthplace of the Buddha. Of course, these are merely records from the sutras; whether they are true depends on one’s own insight.

Unlike Great Kang, the Western Buddhist Kingdom lacks social hierarchy—everyone lives within the temples as monks. The Shemi Bi Great Buddha Temple is one of the Three Thousand Buddha Temples. Here, a revered Arhat is enshrined.

This Arhat has three heads and one arm, holding a pestle for subduing demons. The three heads are fierce and wild, each with three blood-red tongues hanging down to the chest. The abdomen is wrapped in gauze, with decayed flesh oozing a yellowish liquid.

The abbot of the temple bowed devoutly before the Arhat. However, the novice monks newly arrived at the temple all wore expressions of terror.

Sensing this, the abbot turned and smiled gently. “There is no need to fear. This is the Shemi Bi Arhat, seated by the Buddha himself. In these troubled times, where evil abounds, only sincere worship can invoke the Arhat’s protection for all beings.”

“But Master, the Arhat eats people...”

“Last night, the Arhat came to the meditation hall and devoured Aze’s younger brother right before our eyes.”

“How dare you!” The abbot’s face darkened with anger. “The Shemi Bi Arhat protects all beings; how could it eat people? It was because Aze’s brother was destined for the Buddha that the Arhat descended from the altar to redeem him.”

“Master, I do not wish to be a monk anymore; I want to go home.”

“Foolish child, where do you have a home?” The abbot approached the little novice who wished to leave, gently stroking his head. “Your family’s fields were given by this temple. Your parents were serfs born to this temple, and naturally, the children of serfs belong to the temple as well.”

“Now that you have the chance to be tonsured and take refuge, the Shemi Bi Great Buddha Temple shall be your eternal home!”

The little novice pleaded, “Master, you have always been kind to me. Please let me go back. Even if it means living in a pigsty with my parents and eating wild grass, I would willingly endure it.”

“Very well,” the abbot smiled. “Then I shall test you. If you can answer my question, I will let you return.”

“Please speak, Master.”

“How many years ago was the Buddha born in the Central Buddhist Kingdom?”

“The Buddha was born 108,000 years ago. Because he has the three bodies—past, present, and future—the time since his birth remains unchanged.”

“Hm, then why was the Buddha born?”

This question stumped the novice. After much pondering, he finally answered, “Because 108,000 years ago, all beings suffered greatly. The great sun hung in the sky, never setting. The Buddha came to bring the night, creating the cycle of day and night. From then on, beings could rest, and all things could grow.”

“Such compassion from the Buddha!” The abbot smiled, waving his hand over the novice’s head.

Where the novice had once had sparse black hair, there was now nothing at all—his scalp was as smooth as an egg.

His eyes became vacant, and tears streamed down as he spoke with utmost reverence, “Master, all I have comes from the Buddha. Yet I harbored rebellious thoughts about leaving the mountain. I deserve death. Please, punish me.”

The abbot was surprised. “The sea of suffering has no bounds; turning back is the shore. This is true enlightenment!”

The novice put his hands together and said to the other novices, “I now take refuge in the Buddha. You too must feel the Buddha’s compassion in your hearts. The Buddhist path is our home. Quickly, follow me and take refuge.”

The novices exchanged uncertain glances but soon echoed, “We are willing to take refuge.”

At these words, a radiant aura emerged from each novice’s head. Their hair vanished, replaced by six precept scars appearing as if by magic.

The novices—no, the monks—left the temple beaming with joy, as if deeply fulfilled.

Yet the abbot’s expression remained unchanged. Turning to the one novice without precept scars—that is, the one he had just tonsured—he said, “Every year there are those who want to go home. You, child, have wasted my painstaking efforts.”

“You can no longer offer incense. If you were in Great Kang, you could still switch allegiance to the gods. But in the Central Buddhist Kingdom, there are no gods—only the Buddha!”

“Tonight, you shall offer your body to feed the Buddha.”

“Thank you, Master.”

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The little novice was elated. “I truly have a connection with the Buddha.”

At that moment, atop the grand shrine, the Shemi Bi Arhat enshrined on the altar suddenly seemed to sense something, and its true form instantly appeared above the temple.

The abbot was also there.

Looking further afield, similar events unfolded in many other temples.

Arhats and Bodhisattvas alike all turned their gaze heavenward.

Then, they saw a black sun swiftly crossing the sky, racing eastward.

“The Buddha has been born!”

“I sense a trace of Buddha’s spirit within that black sun. Hurry, pursue it! Go welcome the Buddha back!”

...

In Great Kang’s capital city, countless gods sensed this too.

One by one, they revealed their true forms, looking toward the distance with great apprehension.

“A black sun?”

“Evil! Such terrifying evil!”

The black sun sped faster and faster, passing over the capital city in the blink of an eye.

The gods trembled—not out of fear of the evil, for this was the bustling capital, where no evil could act recklessly.

They trembled because as the black sun passed overhead, it filled them with an overwhelming desire, an intense craving.

It was as if whoever obtained the black sun would gain unimaginable power!

“Hurry, report to His Majesty!” A god dressed in official robes transformed into a streak of light and flew toward the imperial palace.

At the same time, he discreetly spread the news to his noble clan.

Yet his attempt to keep it secret was laughable, for the entire capital had witnessed the black sun.

Inside the imperial palace, lamps burned day and night, filling the air with soporific sandalwood incense.

In the Hall of Mental Cultivation,

Since the spring of the fourth year of Qingli, the Great Kang emperor had resided here almost constantly, rarely seen except during official business.

At this moment,

A fierce growl suddenly echoed from behind the folding screen.

The Great Kang emperor sat cross-legged on a Taiji diagram, wearing Taoist robes, and slowly opened his eyes. Pondering, he said, “I have expended countless resources to summon you here. It has been nearly twenty years. Now that changes have arisen, it seems I have awakened you.”

“What is this? Do you also desire that black sun?”

“If you want it, I will obtain it for you. But you must reveal the secret of immortality to me. My patience is limited.”

Yet inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, there was no one but the emperor.

It was as if he were talking to himself.

...

“Nine Nether, kill! Kill! Kill!”

The voice of the Nine Nether Spirit Lamp was tortured and twisted, its body trembling violently.

It tried to break free from the yellowed skin on its head.

But it was useless.

The yellowed skin said, “I am your master. You cannot resist me. Take me home, and I will beg the master to heal you.”

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

The Nine Nether Spirit Lamp had become a malevolent spirit.

Its consciousness corrupted.

As a black evil lamp, it naturally refused to obey the yellowed skin.

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Moreover, it wanted to devour the yellowed skin alive.

No matter how fiercely it burned its oil, even transforming into a sun, it could not burn the yellowed skin to death.

And the Nine Nether Spirit Lamp was indeed flying toward the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.

Not by choice.

It had become a malevolent spirit, its mind lost.

In a daze, it sensed that somewhere in the Ten Thousand Great Mountains lay power it once possessed—and it must reclaim it.

“Return, return!”

The Nine Nether Spirit Lamp raved, “When my power returns, it will be your death. I will eat! I will eat!”

The black sun was not a true sun.

As the lamp oil burned away, the sun grew dimmer and dimmer.

Eventually, it revealed its true form.

Within Xuzhou City, a figure rapidly slipped away, heading toward the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.

That figure was Song Tiangang.

Four figures in black robes and masks pursued closely behind.

“Master Song, you have unlawfully diverted human energy with ill intent. This is a grave crime against our dynasty. You refuse to confess and submit to punishment. Does the Song family bear such responsibility?”

These four figures were imperial envoys summoned by Grand Tutor Wang Taiyu.

After entering the Song residence, they discovered Song Tiangang had taken all the tax revenue Xuzhou City was to submit this year. No matter their methods, they could do nothing against him.

Because Song Tiangang possessed a golden seal, making him equivalent to the city’s guardian deity.

Song Tiangang remained silent.

He had diverted the human energy to personally capture the mutated deity statue.

It was all for the secret of immortality.

Though he knew this act would be exposed, he did not expect it to happen so swiftly.

“What a lackey, what a keen nose!” Song Tiangang cursed inwardly, wishing to tear the Grand Tutor apart alive.

Yet now, forced into the Ten Thousand Great Mountains, he could only gamble everything: either find the mutated deity statue and hide to become immortal, or remain trapped in the mountains forever.

The former meant life; the latter, death.

At that moment,

A streak of black flame flashed overhead, plunging into the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.

Song Tiangang looked up.

Within the black flame, a terrifying black oil lamp was faintly visible, with countless arms and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Then, a voice sounded.

“I feel as if I have returned to the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.”

Though he had never seen the speaker, Song Tiangang immediately recognized it as the yellowed skin.

Because Song Jiu’s messages from within the God-Burying Tomb contained all information about this person.

“Didn’t he enter the God-Burying Tomb with that mutated deity statue? Why is he here again?”

Song Tiangang’s expression grew uneasy, his gaze restless. “Could it be that the God-Burying Tomb connects to the outside world? If so, where is the mutated deity statue now?”

“Let’s catch up and see!”

Since entering the God-Burying Tomb, Song Jiu had been unable to send messages outward.

Therefore, Song Tiangang did not know what had transpired inside.

But he was certain the yellowed skin did.

Now that he had appeared, it was the perfect moment to settle old scores and new grudges alike.

(The End of this chapter)