Xie Yuan felt the Buddhist amulet stir. A little surprised, he immediately picked it up for a closer look.
The amulet, which looked as shoddy as something a street peddler would sell for pennies, glowed faintly. A golden light flashed across its surface and then vanished, leaving it as inert as ever.
If Xie Yuan hadn’t been so confident in his perception, he might have dismissed it as a trick of the light.
’This thing actually works?’
Xie Yuan raised an eyebrow.
To be honest, Huie Jue had given him this trinket right after Zhang Junyi had given him money to spare his life—another item of dubious utility. Xie Yuan had simply kept that as a memento, a trophy of sorts.
The gifts from these two young men, who came from the world’s most elite lineages and had the strongest backers, seemed to be one shabbier than the next.
Especially Huie Jue. When he’d given it to him, Xie Yuan had wondered if he’d just seen Zhang Junyi’s gesture and decided to follow suit on a whim, purely as a prank. Given his mischievous nature, picking up an amulet off the street and passing it off as a gift would be perfectly in character.
But Xie Yuan had accepted it anyway, remaining skeptical of its purpose. Now, at last, he had proof that the trinket was special in some way.
’But what does its reaction mean? Is there some so-called Buddhist affinity here?’
Xie Yuan recalled Huie Jue’s words and fell into thought.
Sometimes he truly felt that Huie Jue was an enigma, as if he knew a great many things. It even seemed that many of Xie Yuan’s own secrets couldn’t escape his notice.
Other times, he suspected the man was just toying with people, feigning profundity. He was impossible to read.
’Did those words mean Huie Jue knew I was searching for a "Buddhist aura" that I can’t even clearly describe myself?’
’And this Buddhist amulet... is it my compass?’
Xie Yuan couldn’t be sure, but he had been wandering through Jiangnan for a month or so, and this was the first time the amulet had shown any unusual signs.
While on the run, Xie Yuan had passed many Buddhist temples, ancient monasteries, and famous Treasure Towers. Whenever his pursuers weren’t too close on his heels, he would pop in for a quick prayer and a look around.
But not once had he sensed the so-called "Buddhist aura," nor had the amulet at his waist ever reacted.
Until now.
Xie Yuan gazed at the enormous temple built on the mountainside just outside the town. Its wide main gate and imposing grand hall overlooked the entire settlement.
Even though Xie Yuan knew nothing of feng shui, he could tell this was a prime location.
Jinguang Temple.
Xie Yuan glanced from the great temple to the endless stream of worshippers on the mountain, then down to the modest town at its foot, and raised an eyebrow.
A small river-bend town like this couldn’t possibly support such a large temple on its own. It seemed many of the visitors had come from farther away.
In his two lifetimes, Xie Yuan had seen countless Buddhist temples, Daoist monasteries, churches, and holy halls, both ancient and modern, from all corners of the world. He had noticed one commonality among them all.
The homes of the common folk surrounding them might be plain, even dilapidated, but the holy sites themselves were always paragons of luxury and refinement. Their architecture was nothing short of art, and their cost was easily ten, if not a hundred times, greater than the surrounding dwellings.
This was especially true for the famous sites passed down through antiquity. They were built on the labor of several, sometimes even ten, generations of the surrounding populace. Over hundreds of years, endless repairs and donations made them grow ever larger and more extravagant until they made the homes of the common folk look like mud hovels by comparison. Some weren’t even finished yet.
The power of faith.
Xie Yuan looked at Jinguang Temple, feeling ambivalent.
Still, a lead on the Buddhist aura was a rare thing, and he had to investigate.
With a glint in his eye, Xie Yuan’s appearance shifted into that of a simple, honest villager. He began walking piously toward the mountain steps.
It was just past noon, and the path was crowded with worshippers going up and down the mountain. At times, Xie Yuan had to turn sideways just to squeeze through.
As he walked, he kept his ears open, listening to the surrounding conversations to gather information.
"Ma, just a little further! Once we get to Jinguang Temple and have one of the masters see you, you’ll be all better!"
"My son, I really can’t walk another step... Let’s not go. I’m not that sick. We should save the Silver Coins to find you a wife!"
"Ma, I’ll carry you! Finding a wife isn’t nearly as important as your health!"
"My son... *Sigh*. I can walk on my own."
A classic drama of a loving mother and her filial son.
Xie Yuan listened and nodded to himself. As he passed the mother and son, he casually brushed the old woman’s arm, sending a sliver of life-nourishing True Qi into her.
It would at least help her climb this flight of mountain steps.
Then he overheard another conversation:
"Uncle Wang, can you really learn martial arts up there? And become a great hero, a Cultivator?"
"It’s true. I saw the abbot kill a tiger with a single punch, ridding the people of a menace! Once you’re inside, you just focus on your cultivation. Don’t worry about your home or your mother. I’ll take good care of her."
"Killed a tiger with one punch? Really? Wait, but aren’t monks forbidden from taking a life?"
"...Don’t ask so many questions, kid."
Xie Yuan’s brow furrowed as he listened, and he glanced at the man and the child.
He watched them for a moment, then decided against intervening and silently shook his head. If the boy’s own mother had consented, then perhaps the temple really was a good place for him.
"Husband, is it true the masters at the temple are hiring? Can we go help them plow their fields?"
"It’s true. They’re already preparing for the spring planting and are desperate for help! We can go work our old two-acre plot. We know that piece of land better than anyone, so we’ll do a better job. The Great Monk will surely agree. Next year, we won’t have to starve."
Xie Yuan glanced at the sallow, emaciated couple, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.
For some reason, they reminded him of people from his past.
A powerful organization always becomes the local landlord; land consolidation was an unavoidable issue. The Cloud Mountain Sword Sect itself owned a thousand acres of fertile land at the foot of Cloud Mountain to provide for the disciples up on the peak.