Chapter 116: An Awkward Moment

He Zhi was indeed a ruthless man. The fact that he could set the entire mourning hall ablaze without caring for the lives of the two Taoist priests revealed the cruelty of his heart. One had to be very cautious when dealing with him.

Of course, Chen Jin was much the same—equally cunning. Compared to He Zhi, they were two sides of the same coin. After all, Chen Jin had also watched those two priests meet a tragic end without intervening.

Such heartlessness was common among cultivators, though they could show affection—just to themselves.

He Zhi’s expression didn’t change after hearing Chen Jin’s words; his eyes hardly moved, making it difficult for Chen Jin to discern his true feelings.

“Hm, I can share with you, fellow Daoist, but…” He Zhi began, then hesitated.

“But what?” Chen Jin asked leisurely. He wasn’t in a rush; this matter was merely a curiosity to him. It held no tangible benefit—knowing or not knowing made little difference, as it involved only trivial details. Yet, if it were something valuable, Chen Jin would not miss the chance to seize it.

“Would you be willing to form an alliance with me to repel the cat demon?” He Zhi continued.

“Hm…” Chen Jin feigned contemplation, then nodded. “That would be acceptable.”

“Then I shall explain some details to you,” He Zhi said with satisfaction.

“Please,” Chen Jin gestured invitingly.

“This place is Mount Emei, the sacred site of Samantabhadra Bodhisattva’s manifestation. You, as a fellow Daoist, should have heard of Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, the attendant to the Buddha Sakyamuni, ruler of the Buddhist realm. It is said that the Four Great Bodhisattvas came from the Western Paradise to spread the Dharma in the Eastern lands, each taking residence on one of four blessed mountains to teach the Buddhist path and enlighten the people. Later, celestial immortals descended to obstruct the Bodhisattvas’ teachings. After many battles of magic, the immortals allowed the Dharma and teachings to enter the East, but forbidden were the great powers of Buddhism; only mortals could journey westward to fetch the sutras and return. If the sutras entered the East improperly, they would self-immolate or become illegible texts.”

“All the venerable Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Arhats of the Western Paradise consented to this. Hence, the Four Great Bodhisattvas withdrew and returned West, but left their legacies in the Central Plains, such as Mount Emei, revered by the common folk as the sacred site of Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, along with many legends.” He Zhi explained slowly.

Chen Jin listened and found it strange, as if the immortals on his side were at a disadvantage.

“Does the Zhang family have a connection to Samantabhadra Bodhisattva?” Chen Jin asked with curiosity.

“An ancestor of the Zhang family once studied under Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, cultivating Buddhist methods. Although he did not attain Arhat status or immortality, he forged a sarira—sacred relic pearls. His divine powers dominated the Sichuan region, rivaled only by the Sword Immortal of Qingcheng Mountain. But even such a figure must eventually turn to dust. How or when he died, I do not know. What I do know is that he left the sarira to the Zhang descendants, which is why the Zhang family prospered.” He Zhi’s voice brimmed with longing and envy.

Before cultivating, Chen Jin had thought sarira were simply crystallized fibers and minerals formed from monks consuming large amounts of plants, or perhaps a ruse by Buddhists to promote their faith—foreign objects secretly placed among ashes and proclaimed sacred. Without third-party verification, it was hard to believe.

But now, as a cultivator, Chen Jin had come to accept such mystical phenomena. After all, even primal energy of heaven and earth could condense into crystals, let alone the physical body.

Due to their Buddhist cultivation, practitioners considered crystallizing their essence into sarira an honor. Their ultimate goal was to crystallize, transcend, and become golden-bodied immortals, seeking eternal life. The exact methods Chen Jin was less clear on, since his previous travels were to earlier eras when Buddhism—then called Brahmanism—had not yet spread widely in the Central Plains. Thus, many Buddhist techniques remained obscure.

Chen Jin’s understanding of Buddhism came mostly from later scriptures, superficial at best. The Age of Decline had just ended, and many cultivators had yet to delve deeply into their practice. Methods were closely guarded secrets, never openly revealed, and personal insights were never shared with outsiders.

Therefore, Chen Jin’s grasp of Buddhism was shallow, and now, suddenly confronting it directly felt peculiar.

“What do you propose?” Chen Jin pondered briefly—though to outsiders it seemed instantaneous. His tone was calm, betraying little interest.

But He Zhi knew that once Chen Jin asked this, it meant the seed of cooperation was planted.

“Only that you watch over Madame Zhang’s spirit for one night.” He Zhi smiled.

“Just that simple?” Chen Jin was surprised.

“Yes, just that simple.” He Zhi confirmed.

“Could you explain the reason?” Chen Jin pressed on.

“Of course. I suspect Madame Zhang hid the sarira, and that her own soul may have merged into it. But cosmic law dictates that souls must return to the underworld and enter reincarnation. On the seventh day after death, souls are drawn back to the underworld and, in their dazed state, seek out their closest kin to settle earthly matters.”

“Zhang Junbao was Madame Zhang’s most beloved grandson, so her soul will certainly come seeking him. And since you now inhabit Zhang Junbao’s body, it is best for you to receive Madame Zhang’s spirit.” He Zhi explained.

“Hmm... very well.” Chen Jin agreed after a moment’s thought, then frowned. “I am a reincarnation, awakening memories of a past life, not merely possessing this body. Please don’t speak falsely.”

“Heavens…” He Zhi was momentarily stunned, then looked at Chen Jin oddly. “Are you truly the reincarnation of Master Ge Hong?”

His tone implied a question: “You’re not deceiving me, are you?”

“Yes.” Chen Jin nodded.

“In that case, junior He Zhi pays respects to the esteemed predecessor,” He Zhi said, bowing respectfully.

“No need. I am starting anew in this rebirth. Call me your equal.” Chen Jin waved off the gesture, though he did not discourage the bow.

“To be frank, I too am a descendant of Master Ge Hong,” He Zhi added.

“…”

That was somewhat awkward.

…