Chapter 183 The Alliance of the Lotus Tower
The night wind howled outside the palace.
The statues inside the hall are solemn and dignified.
"Is it inconvenient for the female bodhisattva to speak?"
Master Shandao made way for him and asked out of curiosity.
The embroiderer silently walked to the table where marriage fortunes were interpreted, picked up the brush prepared on the table, and wrote on a piece of red paper:
"Is the master the abbot of Donglin Temple?"
Master Shandao was taken aback, realizing something, and couldn't help but take a closer look at the mute female benefactor, then clasped his hands together in prayer.
"It is indeed this old monk. If the female bodhisattva is unable to speak, she can write it down in detail..."
Before Master Shandao could finish his rambling speech, the embroiderer had already lowered her eyes and put down her pen:
"Does the master still remember the Lotus Pagoda?"
"What lotus pagoda?" Master Shandao's first reaction was to be taken aback and ask in return.
The embroiderer kept her eyes fixed on the old monk's bewildered expression.
The latter frowned, looked at the embroiderer, and then at the dark night sky outside the main hall.
"Lotus Pagoda? The well-preserved stupa in the temple, I've never heard of that name before..."
Under the embroiderer's gaze, Master Shandao suddenly stopped speaking, turned around, and looked dazed:
"The lotus pagoda the female bodhisattva spoke of, is it the one from before this dynasty, during the Great Sui era? There was a Buddhist pagoda at that time called the Lotus Pagoda because it was nine stories high and shaped like a lotus flower..."
Master Shandao reflected and pondered:
"But all of this happened during the reign of the previous dynasty, Da Sui. I remember that this pagoda was built with the help of the royal family of the Southern Kingdom before Da Sui unified the North and South. I heard that the construction of this pagoda cost a lot of money and was magnificent. It was even known as the number one pagoda in Jiangnan."
"It's a pity that the Lotus Pagoda was destroyed by a flood during the Da Sui era. The female Bodhisattva was referring to this pagoda when she said the Lotus Pagoda was this one. I didn't expect that the young female Bodhisattva would still remember this pagoda. Did she see it in some rare Buddhist scripture? It's a pity that it's no longer here."
Master Shandao frowned and sighed:
"Ah, the female bodhisattva asked me if I remembered it. I wasn't even born then, so naturally I had never seen this pagoda. How could I remember it? I only learned about it from my master."
"Moreover, later, my master built a merit pagoda on the site of the Lotus Pagoda, but it still unfortunately caught fire. But these are all stories for later, so let's not mention them."
"The female bodhisattva wants to find the lotus pagoda? I've heard of it somewhere and want to pay my respects, but unfortunately, only ruins remain. It's located near the Beitian Nursing Home on the back mountain. The female bodhisattva can only visit the remaining underground palace now."
Master Shandao offered his thoughtful advice.
Aside from writing, the embroiderer's gaze never left the face of the old monk in black.
His face, covered with age spots, was full of sincerity and kindness. He spoke without hesitation, and his expression seemed genuine.
The embroiderer lowered her eyes and held the pen with her bare hands:
"Beitian Almshouse? Underground Palace?"
Master Shandao shook his head regretfully and said, "Is the female Bodhisattva really here to pay homage to the ancient pagoda? It would be a pity if she came from afar."
Donglin Temple is famous in Jiangnan for its incense and pagoda, and its fame has even spread to the north. Every day, all kinds of pilgrims from afar come to the temple to make wishes or for all sorts of strange reasons.
Therefore, Master Shandao was not too surprised by the young female pilgrim who liked to visit the pagoda.
The old monk smiled and said:
"That's right, there's still one underground palace left, called the Pure Land Palace. Although the Lotus Pagoda collapsed due to water damage, it was fortunate that the underground palace buried beneath it. Apart from some smoke polluting the murals, the fire didn't reach the underground palace, so it escaped the disaster."
"When the next abbot rebuilt the Merit Pagoda on the original site, he only did simple decorations and did not make many changes. The same thing happened when the Merit Pagoda was flooded again later. It was a stroke of luck amidst misfortune."
Master Shandao sighed for a moment, then turned and stroked his beard, saying kindly:
"It is getting late. If you are really curious about this temple, which was once the number one pagoda in Jiangnan, you may stay overnight at the temple. Tomorrow morning, I will have my disciple Xiufa take you there to see it."
"The Pure Land Palace is located at the Beitian Relief and Nursing Home behind our temple. It is also a scenic spot of our Donglin Temple. However, we need to use some ropes to get down. Please rest assured, female bodhisattva, Xiufa will arrange everything."
"Furthermore, if it's for an overnight stay, the female bodhisattva only needs to donate ten coins as a token..."
Seemingly aware that he had grasped the purpose of the visitor's visit, this person from Donglin Temple proceeded with a long and detailed explanation of the arrangements.
However, he paused for a moment. The rather strange mute female pilgrim in front of him remained remarkably calm, though her eyes were slightly vacant, as if she were lost in thought.
Master Shandao couldn't help but glance at him again, then rearranged his words, subtly suggesting:
"Does the female bodhisattva have any concerns or grievances? Ah, I'm not exaggerating, but this Pure Land Palace of our temple is indeed extraordinary. It was built along with the former No. 1 Buddhist Pagoda in Jiangnan, boasting a long history. Moreover, it was funded and constructed by the former royal temple of the Southern Kingdom, meeting royal standards. The female bodhisattva only needs to donate some incense money, and..."
The embroiderer seemed to snap out of her reverie, her gaze shifting from the Buddha statue behind Master Shandao to the face of the white-bearded old monk. After a quick glance, she lowered her eyes quietly and began to write on the red paper:
"The lotus tower collapsed. Apart from the underground palace, what else remains?"
Master Shandao's words were interrupted, and he frowned slightly:
"Everything was burned away, except for the underground palace and the mummified body of my grand-uncle."
The embroiderer began writing: "Grandmaster Uncle, the living Buddha?"
Master Shandao nodded, and when he mentioned this, his recitation flowed as fluently as the tour guide Ouyang Rong had seen in his previous life:
"I forgot to mention, this Pure Land Palace is also the place where my great-uncle, Master Zhongma, ascended to heaven. That year, under the guidance of my master, the underground palace beneath the Lotus Pagoda ruins was reopened. Master Zhongma, who had been missing from our temple for many years, passed away in the center of the Palace, his body still lifelike and perfectly formed. He had quietly ascended to the Pure Land..."
Master Shandao spoke eloquently, just as he had told Ouyang Rong this secret two months earlier while he was ill at Sanhui Temple. He didn't change his words at all, indicating that he had told it to many worshippers.
Moreover, when he spoke of the mummified body of his grandmaster uncle, he lowered his voice and spoke in a rather mysterious tone.
The embroiderer was silent for a moment, then tightened her grip on the pen. "Where is the physical body of my grandmaster uncle?"
Master Shandao sighed:
"He has been cremated by the old monk, which is also a Buddhist tradition. In the end, several relics were obtained and placed in a golden lotus lamp, which was then returned to the Pure Land Temple for safekeeping... Would the female bodhisattva like to go and pay her respects?"
The embroiderer gently put down her brush, turned to look at the majestic golden Buddha statue in the main hall, and remained silent.
Master Shandao, his eyes filled with curiosity, clasped his hands together, and followed the embroiderer's gaze to the golden Buddha statue behind her, saying at the same time:
"Amitabha Buddha, are there any other female bodhisattvas...?"
As the old monk turned his head, halfway through his sentence, the hem of his black monk's robe suddenly fluttered.
A gentle breeze suddenly arose inside the hall.
Immediately, a "clang" sounded.
A heavy object fell from a height.
The old monk was so startled that he instinctively jumped aside, disregarding his image.
His heart pounded as he stared at the deformed bronze bell that had fallen to the ground at his feet, then looked up blankly at the sky above.
As the main hall of Donglin Temple, this main hall was already luxuriously decorated. The upper part of the hall was covered with hanging canopies, jeweled bells and pearl banners, and exquisite ornaments.
Among them was a bronze artifact called Baoduo, about the size of a human head, shaped like a bell, and heavy in weight. It was originally hanging between the hanging canopies and beaded banners in the middle of the hall.
Master Shandao discovered that the spot where he had just been standing was directly below a precious bell.
It's unclear whether the wind caused it to become unstable.
The bell fell down.
It almost hit someone.
If this heavy object were to hit someone, a bloody disaster would be inevitable.
"That was close! That was close! How strange that I fell down! It scared this old monk to death!"
Master Shandao patted his chest, his face showing signs of shock.
"Female Bodhisattva, are you alright...wait, where is she?"
Master Shandao looked around the empty hall with a suspicious expression.
However, his expression quickly changed from surprise to joy. He strode to the table, uttered "Amitabha," bent down, and swiftly and skillfully tucked the three taels of silver that had appeared quietly on the table into his sleeve.
As for his previous doubts, judging from the smile in the old monk's eyes, he seemed to have long forgotten them.
"This female bodhisattva is a bit strange, coming and going silently in the middle of the night. But she's a devout Buddhist with good fortune, she must be very blessed. Oh, I should have helped her calculate her marriage prospects earlier..."
Master Shandao nodded solemnly to himself, then turned and summoned the novice monk on duty to clean and tidy the main hall.
As for the bronze bell lying quietly on the ground, it seems that it was just good luck that it didn't hit the old monk's bald head, even though it fell vertically.
...
The wind is strong tonight, and dark clouds are slowly moving across the sky, occasionally obscuring the bright moon.
At midnight, the bright moon quietly hid behind the dark clouds again.
Behind Donglin Temple, inside the Beitian Relief and Nursing Home, beside a dry well.
The light dimmed as the bright moon was obscured.
A rustling sound came from the bamboo grove beside the speaker.
The main building of the nursing home not far away was completely silent.
A gust of wind passed by.
The bright moon peeked out from behind the clouds.
Beneath the dry well, beside the lotus pedestal in the center of the underground palace, a slender figure appeared out of nowhere.
The pretty, mute girl sighed softly.
Aside from the abbot, Master Shandao, she toured the entire temple grounds, even venturing to the mountaintop where the wind howled, where she used a secret aura-gazing technique.
But in the end, she did not see any Qi cultivators.
Not a single one.
It wasn't the somewhat talkative abbot of Donglin Temple either; the embroiderer had also been tested.
At the critical moment when the bronze bell fell, if one had spiritual cultivation, no matter how well one concealed it, it would be difficult for their aura to remain completely undisturbed, and it would also be difficult for them to escape her spiritual perception, which is different from that of ordinary Qi cultivators.
Therefore, this can only mean that... Donglin Temple, which is located near Yunmengze and is famous throughout Jiangnan, is indeed just an ordinary ancient temple.
Or, to put it another way, it is just an ordinary ancient temple.
Bathed in the moonlight streaming down from the well above, the embroiderer tilted her head, her small face showing a slightly dazed expression.
This is completely different from the situation of Donglin Temple as recorded by my master's disciples.
This ancient Lianzong Temple, which dates back to the Eastern Jin Dynasty, is no ordinary temple; it once had a very special lineage.
It is related to the legendary Dingjian sword.
It might even involve a mythical dead vein. Yes, a dead vein. Compared to the nine mythical Dao veins, the path that cannot be traversed is naturally a dead vein.
Therefore, a hundred years ago, when the North and South were unified, under the leadership of the Southern Kingdom's royal family, the embroiderer's sect, Donglin Temple, and a group of artisans who had lived on the west bank of Butterfly Creek for generations had a sincere collaboration.
The embroiderer also learned about it from her senior sister's letter.
It turns out that back then, the three forces met at the Lotus Tower, which was built with the financial support of the Southern Kingdom's royal family, and made a secret alliance that was rarely known in the martial arts world of the Southern Kingdom.
It is known as the Lotus Tower Alliance.
They also made a blood oath, stipulating that the descendants of the three Qi cultivator factions should remember and fulfill this oath for generations, and must not violate it, otherwise their lineage would be destroyed and their lineage would be cut off.
The embroiderer wasn't entirely clear on the specifics of the alliance. Perhaps the senior sister who was currently acting as the head of the sect knew, but she hadn't explained it to her in detail in the letter.
However, the embroiderer vaguely sensed some possible truths.
This was something she had vaguely guessed based on what she knew about a certain secret within the sect.
Moreover, the embroiderer had no doubt that if this secret were to spread out of her sect, it would surely cause an earthquake in the martial arts world of Tiannan and shake the sect's position.
Because a certain cauldron, once regarded as a treasure by the martial arts world of Tiannan and kept within the sect of the embroiderer to suppress the fortune of the Tiannan land, had long been lost.
This matter was known only to her and a very few of her senior sisters...
At this moment, it seemed that he was thinking of the recent unpredictable rise in water levels in Yunmengze and the rumors circulating in the martial arts world.
The mute girl, bathed in moonlight with her head tilted back, took a deep breath.
Right now, her senior sister has privately ordered her to come to Longcheng County to investigate Donglin Temple, to find out if there are any other Donglin Temple disciples who know about the Lotus Pagoda Alliance, which may be related to the cauldron that the sect lost.
The two things are connected.
The embroiderer strongly suspected that the Lotus Tower Alliance, formed by the three Qi cultivator factions located in the Southern Kingdom, was something that her sect, which was supposed to remain neutral and live in seclusion, had given her—this very cauldron.
Because of the Lotus Tower Alliance, there are Qi cultivators from the Craftsmanship Dao lineage involved.
And what do those strange craftsmen who work for the Daoist lineage do?
Casting the tripod and sword.
As for the final outcome of the Lotus Tower Alliance, what will be the result?
Need I say more?
The royal family of the Southern Kingdom, which was located in a remote corner of Jiangnan, had long since perished.
The artisans of the Craftsmanship Clan on the west bank of Butterfly Creek were also slaughtered by the mad emperor of the Great Sui Dynasty who was obsessed with sword forging.
Donglin Temple, which once possessed a legendary lineage, has declined in the last century into an ordinary temple that makes a living by deceiving female worshippers into offering incense.
Only the sect to which the embroiderer belongs still exists. They have endured countless hardships and still stand stubbornly at the top of the Tiannan Jianghu, remaining aloof from the other top hidden sects in the Jianghu, their brilliance undiminished.
But what about the Lotus Pagoda Alliance agreement, the whereabouts of the cauldron that was supposedly used to forge the sword, and the dying lineage of a certain mythological lineage at Donglin Temple...?
These events, however, have been buried in the heavy dust of history, accompanying the vicissitudes of the regimes in the North and South for nearly a century and the unification of the Great Qian Empire.
The embroiderer had no idea what her master's generation's sect was thinking back then, that they would hand over the cauldron that formed the foundation of their sect for a strange Lotus Tower Alliance.
Although there did seem to be a grandmaster who was a princess from the Southern Kingdom's royal family in that generation of the sect, the sect's decisions would never be swayed by the private interests of this inner circle.
The embroiderer didn't understand, but she obeyed. This was the ancestral precept of her sect: women who entered the sect should be of one mind and one heart, and form a bond of mutual respect and harmony.
The embroiderer turned around and silently looked around. The lotus pagoda, once the first pagoda in Jiangnan, is now just an abandoned underground palace.
Apart from a mad monk dozing off not far away, the place was empty.
The embroiderer remained unfazed by her fruitless nighttime visit to Donglin Temple, showing little concern about how she would fare upon returning.
Given her senior sister's personality, since she entrusted this matter to her junior sisters instead of personally attending, it seems that besides the need to keep a low profile and not make a fuss, she also didn't have much hope of finding anything out.
The embroiderer admired the murals on all four sides of the underground palace, nodding gently as she strolled around.
That makes sense. It's been lost for so many years, and the sect should have already searched every possible place. Sending the embroiderer back to her old haunts now is more like a routine check-up.
And just as she had just asked the abbot of Donglin Temple, nowadays, apart from their own sect, who else remembers the solemn oath made at the Lotus Pagoda?
As the embroiderer strolled through the underground palace, lost in thought, a solemn voice drifted from not far away:
"Amitabha Buddha, female benefactor, this place is the Pure Land of Lotus, and above it lies the Avici Hell!"
Perhaps having noticed the embroiderer's silent arrival, the monk Xiuzhen, whom Ouyang Rong respectfully addressed as "Master of Ignorance," got up from the ground.
The monk's face was solemn, one finger pointing to the ground and the other to the sky.
The mute girl didn't turn her head, but smiled slightly, nodded gently, and gave a soft "ah" in greeting.
(End of this chapter)
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