Chapter Nine: Biyu Mountain Temple

Chapter Nine: Biyun Temple

Chapter Three: The Lone Shadow at Biyun Moves the Heart, the Cold Moon Awakes Sorrow

When the monk finished speaking, the other monks behind him bowed their heads and recited, “Amitabha. Among the five great Zen monasteries, it seems this time the disciples of Central Platform, under Senior Zhiru, have once again displayed superior skill, maintaining the prestige of their lineage. The Mysterious Demon-Slaying Staff should rightly belong to Qingliang Temple. Congratulations.”

The leading monk, Zhiru, replied, “Brothers, you are too modest. Deciding the ownership of the Mysterious Demon-Slaying Staff by competition was a last resort. I hope you will forgive us.”

“Amitabha, Senior Brother, you are too courteous,” the monks replied again.

Zhiru continued, “Since the matter is settled, brothers, please take your leave. The centennial assembly of the Zen monasteries approaches swiftly. Let us prepare meticulously. In a few days, on the fourteenth of June, it will be the holy birthday of Manjushri. At that time, I and my brothers will journey to Dafu Lingjiu Temple to pay respects to our grandmasters.”

“Amitabha, we shall heed your words, Senior Brother,” the monks responded.

“Senior Brother, then we shall meet soon. Farewell for now,” one monk said. Without waiting for Zhiru’s reply, he turned to his followers, “Yang Jun, gather the disciples of the Western Platform. Let us depart.” With that, he transformed into a streak of rainbow light and left without looking back.

“Zhixu, my brother… alas!” Zhiru started to speak but ended with a sigh and shake of the head. Several young disciples stepped forward, saluting Zhiru and the others, “Masters, uncles, we take our leave. Another day we will seek your guidance.” With that, they summoned their magical artifacts and soared away, leaving only traces of light that quickly vanished.

The remaining monks also bid farewell at the mountain’s front, departing one after another.

“Shisong, let us go as well,” a middle-aged monk stepped forward to address Bai Shisong and his companions.

“Master, we failed in our mission. Please mete out punishment,” the disciples pleaded.

“We shall discuss this matter in detail once we return to Biyun Temple at Yedou Peak on the Northern Platform,” the middle-aged monk replied.

“Master, Brother Ye is a friend I made during my travels. I humbly request permission for him to accompany us to the Northern Platform,” Bai Shisong said, stepping forward respectfully.

Zhiku turned to look at Ye Hua, a flash of sharpness in his eyes before it faded, then nodded slightly, “Let us go.” He then transformed into a beam of golden light and vanished into the sky.

Ye Hua observed that the monk was about forty or fifty years old, with a kindly and gentle face, his energy restrained and refined. He was surprised to learn this was Bai Shisong’s master. Before he could express his gratitude for being allowed to join them, the monk had already flown away, leaving Ye Hua amazed.

Ling Yun’er approached and whispered, “My master’s Dharma name is Zhiku. He has always been this way.”

“Oh, little sister, you dare speak ill of our master! When we return to Yedou Peak, we must report your disrespect!” Qingxia and Qingyu teased, making faces.

Ling Yun’er looked astonished, “What did I say?”

Qingxia shook her head and sighed, “Little sister, you forget so quickly! You said master is always like this—what sort of temperament? Of course… that temper, that bad temper! Heh, you…”

Before she finished, Qingyu tugged urgently at her sleeve, “Wrong! Stop talking!”

Ling Yun’er smiled, “Fine, I can report you too!”

Bai Shisong watched his junior brothers and sisters bicker, smiled, and said, “Let us depart.” He summoned his flying sword, and the group followed, soaring away.

As they traveled, Ye Hua quietly asked Bai Shisong, “Brother, what is the meaning of your master’s Dharma name, Zhiku?”

Bai Shisong explained, “Brother Ye, you may not know. My master cultivates a practice rooted in the Mahayana Four Noble Truths—the truths of suffering, accumulation, cessation, and the path. My master focuses on the Truth of Suffering, hence his Dharma name Zhiku. On the Eastern Platform, at Longquan Temple, Uncle Zhimei also bears a similar name.”

“Oh, I see. Among the Four Noble Truths, which practice is considered supreme?” Ye Hua wondered aloud.

Bai Shisong replied, “Every practice is boundless and profound. Deep research reveals vast and wondrous mysteries. There is no real hierarchy among the four; it all depends on one’s depth of cultivation.”

Ye Hua nodded, “You are absolutely right, brother.”

As they spoke, they soon came upon a towering mountain wall, with thousands of peaks stretching beside it. The rain had ended, leaving a cool indigo hue, and the sunlight cast a gentle mist over emerald slopes. Flying overhead, they saw a waterfall cascading down, hanging in midair like a white rainbow, nourishing the verdant mountains.

Ye Hua exclaimed, “This is truly extraordinary! What a place of unrivaled beauty.”

As they drew near, they saw old vines and ancient trees, rare flowers and auspicious grasses, bamboo and tall pines, the calls of birds echoing, and clear springs murmuring. The valleys were adorned with orchids, while cliffs were covered in moss.

After flying a bit further, they saw, amid a thousand ancient cypresses and countless bamboo stalks, a temple revealed—Biyun Temple.

Biyun Temple was founded during the reign of Emperor Yingzong of Ming, and is regarded as the foremost of the ten Zen temples on Mount Wutai. Those ten temples are open to all monks and lay practitioners, offering free food and lodging. If travelers set off from here and lack funds, the temple will provide assistance. Thus, many Buddhist pilgrims make it a must-visit destination.

Landing, Ye Hua observed the tranquil and beautiful surroundings. Bai Shisong said, “Brother Ye, we have arrived at Biyun Temple. Our master traveled far faster than us; he is likely waiting in the Precept Hall. Let us hurry to see him.”

Qingxia and Qingyu responded, “Yes, Brother.”

They entered the temple gates, passing through several doors and winding corridors. Ye Hua observed carefully: first, the Hall of Heavenly Kings, then straight through a corridor, the Thunder Sound Hall, and to the right, the Hall of Maitreya. In the courtyard’s center stood a stone altar, carved with a statue of Shakyamuni, intricately crafted and dignified in posture. “This must be the temple’s heart,” Ye Hua thought silently. He saw many novice monks, yet none came forward to greet them; they simply pressed their palms together in silent salutation.

Circling the statue and passing through another door along the wall, they turned right and saw a hall—the Precept Hall. In front stood two flourishing bodhi trees in full bloom.

At the door, they called, “Master!”

“Come in,” Zhiku’s voice replied.

Inside, Zhiku sat on the central cushion, flanked by four young disciples—two monks and two laymen.

“Senior Brother, you’ve returned? You must be tired from your journey,” one young monk greeted.

“Second Brother,” Bai Shisong replied, giving him a look but saying nothing more. He stepped forward and knelt before Zhiku, “Master, I failed to accomplish my task. The fault is mine for lacking foresight. Please do not blame my fellow disciples; punish me alone.”

“Master, do not punish Senior Brother. Our skills were lacking, and our adversary was cunning and treacherous. We were no match for the evil Taoist, who escaped!” Qingxia, Qingyu, and Ling Xueyun pleaded.

Zhiku sighed gently, “Rise, all of you. This training expedition was not your fault. I anticipated you would not succeed. The Mysterious Demon-Slaying Staff, also known as the Eight Wilderness Demon-Slaying Staff, was once wielded by the Immortal Lord Liu Lang in the Western Devil Realm to slay demons. After becoming a monk at Mount Wutai and ascending, the staff was left at Dafu Lingjiu Temple, guarded by generations of elders. This time, its reappearance drew competition from the five great Zen monasteries and one hundred twenty-two temples, with tens of thousands of monks. The Central Platform has strength in numbers and lineage—this was not something we could win.”

He sighed again, “The Mysterious Demon-Slaying Staff is a sentient relic; it recognizes its master and cannot be seized by force. It will await one who is truly destined.” His words carried a hint of dissatisfaction.

Ye Hua felt he now understood the situation: the many branches of Mount Wutai vied for the staff, setting challenges for their disciples to subdue demons and uphold justice. The temple whose disciples completed their tasks would claim the staff. Biyun Temple’s task was clearly for Bai Shisong to slay the Fire Lord Shenjun, but they had failed. He recalled Zhixu’s angry departure and Zhiku’s explanation, suspecting that the Central Platform had resorted to force, which explained everyone’s mood.

“Shisong, recount your journey for me in detail,” Zhiku ordered.

“Yes, Master,” Bai Shisong replied. “After descending the mountain, we learned the evil Taoist was at Lishan Mirror Lake. We pursued and fought him, but he escaped. Tracking him to Little Wutai, he sought his senior, the Fire Virtue Taoist. We laid ambush.

After several days, we battled fiercely, wounding him gravely. However, he detonated his magical artifact and escaped again, vanishing. We searched his lair at Canglu Mountain, met Brother Ye, waited three days without finding him, and hurried back.”

“Hmm,” Zhiku mused for a moment. “Let it be. Though you failed to kill Fire Lord Shenjun, you have gained another enemy. He is of little concern, but his senior, the Fire Virtue Taoist, is a master of the Fire Charm Sect, renowned in northern Ji. You must be cautious when you go down the mountain in the future.”

“Yes, Master,” Bai Shisong and the others replied, relieved.

End of Chapter.