Chapter Eight: Wutai Mountain

Chapter Eight: Mount Wutai

Episode Two: Perilous Encounters with Immortals, Heart Stirs at Meeting the Crimson Enchantress (5)

To their surprise, two days passed as they waited, and impatience began to grow among the group. Qingxia emerged from the side hall and addressed Baishi Song, “Senior Brother, if we keep waiting like this, we might miss our return date!” Baishi Song pondered and replied, “Let us wait one more day. If that wicked priest still does not return, then we must head back.”

“Once again he escapes by the skin of his teeth—he truly is lucky!” Qingyu came out as well, her tone brimming with frustration.

“Enough, Fourth and Fifth Brothers. We'll wait one more day. Tomorrow, we return. If we travel swiftly, we won't betray our promise,” Baishi Song declared.

“You are right, Senior Brother!” Qingxia and Qingyu agreed.

Another day slipped by in the blink of an eye, and the wicked priest remained absent. The group gathered in the courtyard to discuss their next steps. Baishi Song turned apologetically to Ye Hua, “Brother Ye, we cannot linger any longer. It is time to return to the mountain and report. We had intended to escort you back to Little Wutai, but time is short. For now, I will take you to Mount Wutai. Later, we will ensure you return home. What do you say?”

Ye Hua was overjoyed and responded, “That is precisely my wish! I have longed to follow you all to the sacred mountain, but feared I would trouble you. I was too embarrassed to ask outright.”

Qingxia and Qingyu laughed, “Brother Ye, you are welcome to come with us. Unless, of course, you have other motives…” With that, they glanced mischievously at their junior sister, Ling Xueyun.

Ling Xueyun flushed with embarrassment. “Brothers, enough teasing! If you make fun of me again, Master will punish you and I won’t plead for you then. Senior Brother, let us be on our way!”

Baishi Song smiled, “So Brother Ye has made up his mind—excellent. I will take you. Let us go!” With those words, he grasped Ye Hua's hand, made a mystical gesture with the other, and a brilliant sword appeared, gleaming in the light.

“Brother Ye, this sword is called 'Qingsong.' We shall ride it through the skies!” Before Ye Hua could respond, the two of them lifted off the ground. He felt a sudden emptiness beneath his feet, a dizzying rush, and when he opened his eyes again, they were already thousands of miles above the earth.

Above them stretched a cloudless azure sky, while below, mists gathered around the four peaks. Billowing clouds formed clusters and wisps, enveloping distant and near mountains alike, their jagged tips poking through like lone boats adrift upon a vast, stormy ocean, with islands appearing and vanishing on the horizon.

“Ah!” Ye Hua exclaimed softly. Though not his first time soaring thus—he had been swept away by Lord Huoshu before—the experience then had been hazy and confusing, nothing like the vivid clarity he felt now. Baishi Song laughed, “Do not be afraid, Brother Ye!”

Turning his head, Ye Hua saw Qingxia and Qingyu following close behind, and further back, Ling Xueyun gliding swiftly on her crimson silk. Clouds swirled beneath their feet as they flew for more than half a day, finally entering Shanxi province. They were still over a thousand miles from Mount Wutai when Ye Hua saw the majestic peaks ahead, auspicious vapors rising high into the sky.

Mount Wutai, also known as Mount Clear and Cool, is a branch of the Taihang Range, spanning more than five hundred miles. It is vast and sprawling, with five great peaks—the East, West, South, North, and Central Terraces—the Northern Leaf Dipper Peak being the most imposing of them all.

After flying a while longer, five towering, platform-like mountains appeared before them. Ye Hua thought to himself, “No wonder it is called Five Terraces Mountain—there truly are five peaks shaped like platforms.”

As if reading his thoughts, Baishi Song said, “These five platforms were transformed by Manjushri Bodhisattva, each embodying a facet of his supreme wisdom. What exactly those five great wisdoms are, scholars still debate endlessly.”

“Senior Brother, let us head straight to the Cuiren Peak of the Central Terrace, to Clear and Cool Temple. Master and the others should be waiting there,” Qingxia suggested.

“Very well, to Clear and Cool Temple!” Baishi Song replied. The group suddenly accelerated, covering dozens more miles before descending swiftly.

Before them, the mountain was adorned with crimson cliffs and bizarre stones, sheer precipices and fantastic peaks, verdant pines and cypresses, rare grasses and exotic flowers, bamboo groves brushing the clouds, secluded ravines—a scene of serene beauty. Ye Hua could not help but praise, “What a splendid mountain!”

Qingyu, overhearing, laughed, “Brother Ye, you have not yet seen our Northern Terrace. When you do, you will truly understand what majesty and peril mean—this is tame by comparison.”

As the two chatted, the main summit soon revealed a grand temple atop its heights. From the air, it was an impressive sight: the temple faced west, with five great halls in succession, meditation and auxiliary halls well matched on either side. Ye Hua marveled silently, “This Clear and Cool Temple is truly magnificent!” The group landed gently outside the temple gates.

Looking up, Ye Hua saw a horizontal plaque above the entrance inscribed with the characters for Clear and Cool Temple. Yet, curiously, a long stone lay across the entrance—a blue-green slab about fifteen feet long, eight feet wide, and six feet thick.

Puzzled, Ye Hua asked, “Why is there such a giant stone at the entrance?”

Ling Xueyun interjected with a laugh, “Silly boy, the temple is named for this very stone—this is the Clear and Cool Stone!”

Realization dawned on Ye Hua. “So this is Manjushri’s sacred relic, the Clear and Cool Stone? No wonder, no wonder…”

He recalled from his readings that the Clear and Cool Stone was the very foundation of the temple. Buddhist legend holds that Manjushri once preached upon this stone, hence its other name, Manjushri’s Couch. Famed throughout the world, Ye Hua had not expected such a renowned relic to be such an unremarkable slab.

Ling Xueyun laughed again, “No surprise, is it? Ancient tales say that in distant ages, Mount Wutai burned with unending fire until Patriarch Manjushri brought the 'Resting Dragon Stone' from the Dragon King's palace in the East Sea. Only then did the mountain become cool and pleasant.

“Later, the Dragon King’s five sons came to Wutai seeking their stone, but could not find it. In their anger, they flattened the peaks into platforms. To this day, heaps of stones lie at the base of each terrace, called ‘Dragon-Turned Stones.’ As for the Resting Dragon Stone, that is the very Clear and Cool Stone you see here.”

Ye Hua marveled at the legend. Though he knew much of it was fanciful, it lent the stone a mysterious allure. After pondering for a moment, he softly recited:

“Chilled brilliance, mirror-like, lies deep in the clouds,
Half streaked with mist, half with moss imbued.
Who knows within this square expanse,
The mingling of past and present, old and new.”

As he finished, a Buddhist invocation rang out—“Amitabha!”

Startled, Ye Hua turned to see a group of more than a dozen emerging from the temple. At their head was a monk in yellow robes, not yet fifty, dressed simply with straw sandals and homespun, but his face radiated spirit, an aura of subtle brilliance like a pearl or precious jade shining with its own light.

Though Ye Hua only glanced at the monk a few times, he felt a surge of reverence and closeness in his heart. Behind him were several other monks of similar age, and following them, a group of young men and women, monastic and lay.

“Uncle Master, Master, Elders!” Baishi Song and his companions hurriedly bowed and saluted.

“Very well, you may rise,” said the leading monk, then turned a gentle smile to Ye Hua. “Young man, that was a fine poem—most fitting, truly rare!”

Realizing this was Baishi Song’s esteemed uncle master, Ye Hua quickly bowed. “Thank you for your kindness, Immortal Master. It was merely idle words, unworthy of your ears.”

The head monk replied, “You are too modest, young one.”

He then turned to Baishi Song and the others, “Nephew Bai, was your journey successful? Did you vanquish the wicked priest?”

Baishi Song answered with shame, “The villain escaped us several times. We did not succeed.”

The head monk glanced at the elders behind him. “Amitabha. Of our disciples who went forth to train, only those from the Central Terrace succeeded. The disciples from East, West, South, and North returned empty-handed. According to our agreement, the Mysterious Hunyuan Demon-Slaying Staff shall remain in the care of the Central Terrace.”