Buddha and Demon (Wei Dansheng)

Thinking of Gao Qian's promise from not long ago, a few mischievous thoughts suddenly popped into Xi Cui's mind.

"Second Brother," she leaned over, looking at Gao Qian with a serious expression, pointing at Wei Dansheng's departing back, and said, "I am not marrying Xiao Rongshan anymore. I want to marry him."

Gao Qian: "..."

"...What do you mean?"

Xi Cui said seriously, "I have taken a fancy to this young master. I want to marry him."

Gao Qian's expression suddenly became extremely weary. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Stop causing trouble. He is a monk. How can a monk marry a wife?"

"I am serious."

"Are you still angry about Xiao Rongshan?"

"It is not because of him."

"Then why are you saying such things?"

Xi Cui thought deeply for a moment, then posed a question that Gao Qian could not refute.

"Because this young master is very handsome. Seeing him makes my heart happy."

Gao Qian: ......

***

Wei Dansheng slowly walked into the main hall. Beside him, Hui Ru sighed,

"What a pity that the affinity has not yet arrived. I was unable to meet those two benefactors."

He was still young, and when encountering something, it was hard to avoid being stirred.

Hearing him chatter, Wei Dansheng did not chime in, only smiling without saying anything.

"Furthermore, those two benefactors just now looked very familiar." Thinking of the area outside the hall, Hui Ru thoughtfully turned his head to take a glance.

Only then did Wei Dansheng ask, "Which two?"

"The two benefactors we just saw in front of the hall." Hui Ru whispered in a low voice, "That female benefactor looks very much like her elder brother. I have never seen a brother and sister who look so alike."

Wei Dansheng continued walking, the Buddhist beads on his wrist clinking.

Clearly, he did not care much about this. "Is that so?"

This martial uncle of his, although having a very good personality, was inevitably boring. He did not seem like a sixteen-year-old youth, but more like a sixty-year-old man.

Hui Ru pouted, "Martial Uncle's Zen heart is truly steadfast."

Wei Dansheng did not reply.

His gaze fell upon the sandalwood Buddha statue in the main hall.

Many years had passed in the blink of an eye; he had already stayed at Kongshan Temple for more than six years.

During this time, he had cultivated diligently, never slacking.

As for whether his Zen heart was steadfast, only he himself knew best.

In the evening, after finishing his lessons, he returned to his room to read a scripture. As drowsiness washed over him, Wei Dansheng blew out the candle, kept his clothes on, and lay down.

But this sleep was not very peaceful.

He dreamed again.

He dreamed of the towering flames of Biao'er Mountain and splashing blood.

Wei Dansheng opened his eyes, waking from the dream.

His heart beat like a drum.

He closed his five fingers, slowly gripping the thin blanket over him. The blood in his body seemed to boil, rushing into his limbs and brain.

Wei Dansheng slightly opened his eyes.

A full moon had climbed up the window.

Under the moonlight, those deep eyes, with their slightly drooping corners, filtered out the fragmented light, adding a touch of allure and beauty.

Wei Dansheng lifted the thin blanket and poured himself a cup of cold tea.

As the tea entered his stomach, his agitated and uneasy mood finally calmed down a bit.

Ever since he left Biao'er Mountain, it seemed that every day he relived the scene of that day in his dreams, over and over again, often waking up in the middle of the night with his pillow soaked in sweat.

The Wei family only thought he was still young, and having experienced this great disaster, a psychological trauma had been left on the mountain.

He did not argue.

Not long after he returned home, the news that the Third Young Master of the Wei family was crippled quickly spread throughout the capital.

Wei Zonglin felt guilty toward him. After seeing him limp on one leg, his father relaxed his control over him significantly, gradually stopping his supervision altogether.

Serving as an official also required looking at one's physical appearance. Now that he was crippled, if he entered officialdom, he would likely face obstacles. Now, Wei Zonglin had placed all his expectations on his eldest brother, Wei Jing.

He had lived strictly according to Wei Zonglin's demands since childhood. But now that Wei Zonglin no longer cared about him, the external force driving him to live his life step-by-step suddenly vanished, leaving Wei Dansheng feeling a bit lost.

Those classics and histories he had read countless times—he was now too lazy to look at them. Every day, he just sat by the window and did nothing.

He felt as if something was missing, and his heart felt empty. Yet he still could not remember what was missing, which made him feel even more frustrated.

This appearance caught the attention of others, making them sigh in pity, saying he had been frightened out of his wits on the mountain.

One day, he picked up a bow and arrow that he had not used for a long time.

He used the arrows, just as he had shot that cat dead. One by one, he found various animals and shot them dead.

Later, he tried doing it with his own hands, using the dagger Wei Zonglin had gifted him.

Hot blood splattered onto his skin.

He bent down to watch them cough blood, paralyzed on the ground, their muscles twitching in agony.

Wei Dansheng's heart could not help but beat wildly.

At this moment, he finally understood what had been missing during this period.

The eyes of the dying beast gradually overlapped with human eyes, and through those dying eyes, he seemed to see that bandit again.

This made Wei Dansheng feel extremely excited, even to the point of letting out a low groan.

At this moment, he finally felt that he was alive.

He finally understood that killing the bandit had not caused him pain, but had actually released the suppressed demonic nature in his heart.

In his dead life, he had finally found something that made him excited and happy.

He had killed them.

He had helped them sever their sins.

He had redeemed them.

This kind of feeling seemed to bewitch Wei Dansheng.

For many days after, he could hardly sleep well, and just thinking back to that feeling made his entire body tremble with excitement.

Before long, the family discussed sending him away from the capital to study under Zen Master Shan.

Buddhism was a place of tranquility, where killing was forbidden.

He could only restrain the howling desire in his heart.

But the desire, instead of settling under his suppression, became even more agitated and uneasy.

He suddenly realized that rather than being unable to vent his desire, being controlled by this feeling and losing himself made him feel even more restless.

This appearance of his fell into Zen Master Shan's eyes.

Zen Master Shan was highly respected and wise. Being able to study under him was his good fortune, and Wei Dansheng had always respected him deeply.

The master did not blame him, only often taking him to do farm work, and preaching scriptures to him in his spare time.

The master had no intention of passing his mantle to him; he had only accepted him to guide him toward redemption.

Of course, Wei Dansheng knew his nature was contrary to normal, but he did not change his mind, only telling Zen Master Shan, "My disciple's demonic nature is difficult to eradicate."

Zen Master Shan's expression remained unchanged as he asked, "Then tell me, where is your demonic nature?"

Like a ladle of water, it gently and calmly extinguished his heart's fire.

Humans have two natures: one side is Buddha, the other is Demon.

The mind is originally pure; naturally, it is empty and free from obstacles.

Once he thought it through, this restless feeling of longing seemed to finally settle down.

Only then did Wei Dansheng calm his mind, following Zen Master Shan, chopping wood and plowing fields by day, meditating by night, devoting himself to cultivation.

"The obscure yellow flowers are but prajna.
The green bamboos are all the dharma body."

In the silent meditation year after year, he also learned a thing or two.

The green lamp and ancient Buddha brought him much solace.

To him, there was nothing to linger for in the world, and the Buddha-land in the scriptures gave him a sanctuary.

It was just that this desire had not disappeared, and would never disappear.

With this desire, he would never reach the other shore.

Just like today.

Wei Dansheng did not quite understand why he had dreamed; it had been a very long time since he last dreamed of that bandit.

But because of this dream, his desire was once again ignited, howling uneasily in his chest, wanting to burst out.

An indistinct groan escaped his throat.

He clasped his hands and chanted the Buddha's name.

He understood that one day, it might come pouring down like a torrential flood.

When that day truly arrived, it would likely be like burning heaven and destroying earth, enough to make him fall into hell, let alone the other shore of the Buddha-land.