I nodded, but my heart was not settled.
What's in front of you can be exchanged, but what then?
Does the Acong Lama have a spirit of contract, will he let us go?
It's hard to say for sure.
"Dududud," the knocking sound echoed.
My father didn't go to open the door.
After the room quickly quieted down, a few minutes later, there was another knock on the door, and he still didn't open it.
The footsteps started to recede.
After a long time, I smelled a trace of blood in my nostrils, mixed with the stench of corpses, faint and intermittent.
It's the sky burial ground, where they are chopping up the body to feed the vultures.
My father closed his eyes, as if in silent meditation.
The stench of the dead body became so intense and viscous that I even felt I could hear the fluttering sound of wings and the slurping sound of eating.
All things returned to silence.
This kind of quietness made me feel a little uncomfortable for a while.
The knocking sound echoed again.
The sound was crispier, and it could be heard that it was coming from a lower position.
Intuitively, I felt that all the chaotic sounds disappeared, and I could only hear the knocking sound.
Finally, my father opened his eyes, got up, and opened the door.
Standing outside was a child with a youthful look, yet he was dressed in thick robes.
The two streaks of red on his cheeks became deeper, as if etched into his skin, and even a faint hint of splitting could be seen.
It's like this in the high-altitude areas, from childhood to adulthood, there is always alpaca red, and after a long time, it becomes deep wounds that can never be dispelled.
A pair of eyes clear and clean, like the purest pond on the high plateau, with no speck of dirt.
It's hard to tell, he used to be an old monk nearing the end of his days.
"Do you live comfortably?" The voice was tender, yet deep in thought.
"It's all right, not much different from before. Having you sit beside me makes me more nostalgic," my father replied calmly.
"That's good," said the young and tender Acon Lama.
"This place has become a sacred site, and not many people can come in," he added.
"Oh? Then our father and son are quite fortunate," my father replied indifferently as usual.
The conversation between the two was as if they were old friends.
"Let's talk somewhere else, brother Fu Ye. You know, I have never harbored any ill intent," Acong Lama added again.
"What do you really want to say? I know what you mean, you don't need to play guessing games with me. Just speak freely," my father replied without any intention of moving to another location.
He even opened the door a little wider, allowing Acong Lama to enter and speak.
However, Acong Lama still didn't come in, standing quietly outside the door.
"What are you afraid of?" my father asked suddenly.
"Fear? This is the Five Buddha Temple, Black City Temple's Xinbo, which is divided into three parts and is constantly being chased. I have nothing to fear." Acong Lama replied.
"Then why not come in?" my father added.
"I have not prevented you from entering here," Acong Lama said in a calm tone.
At this moment, my father seemed to choke up.
"They are on a mountain, a very high mountain, where it is close to the sky," Acong Lama's gaze turned towards me.
My face changed slightly, and I immediately understood.
He, he was talking about the eight homes!
How worried was He you before he said a joke, which means that we tried our best to find the eight homes, and they couldn't hide in the sky?
But I didn't expect that they would actually hide in the place closest to the sky?
The area is very high, even outside the Black City Temple, there are tall towers that pierce the clouds. If Baizhai exists in such a place, it's truly a remote and almost uninhabited place. Who can find it?
I stared at Acong Lama, my eyes never leaving his.
Acong Lama did not continue.
He quietly watched me, with a slight smile on his lips.
It was evident that Acong Lama was turning the tables, hoping to elicit a response from me.
He is convinced that what we seek is greater than what he seeks!
For a moment, my father didn't speak, and the atmosphere fell into a standstill.
After about half a minute, Acong Lama said, "They haven't left here for many years. They were once good people, but they have changed."
"They are seeking a way to liberation."
"This process will result in the death of many people, and they do not hesitate."
"And the place they now inhabit was once a Buddhist monastery."
"I can only say that associating with them will only bring continuous misfortune, because they eat people."
This statement made Acong Lama even more profound.
"That's the dead, and it doesn't count as eating," my father shook his head to disagree.
"Isn't it eating? Black City Temple? People are alive before they die. When bones and flesh are separated, blood clots solidify, intestines and digestive organs are put into the soup bowl with the head. People are all dead bodies." Acong Lama shook his head in agreement: "The time of death is different, but fundamentally, there is no difference."
His words undoubtedly shook my perception for a moment…
"Throughout history, many people have eaten humans."
"People who eat humans will receive a counterattack."
"Black City Temple has not received a counterattack because they use humans to worship gods. Those who are sacrificed believe that their souls have been redeemed, which is their faith, and they are willingly sacrificing."
"Not just humans, all things in this world have souls. Therefore, in this area, killing livestock also requires a ritual of chanting scriptures for their souls."
"Counterattack is karma, and it's also a poison."
Acong Lama's words were firm and determined.
"This is not a poison from the bones and flesh, but from the depths of the soul, one that can be passed down from generation to generation," he further added.
My face changed again!
This implies that if the poison is not cured, it's not just myself, but generation after generation of bloodlines connected to me, who will be entangled in the poison?
"Let's change places. I have no malice, just like the other day, I thought that the child Xian Shen was suitable to stay here, to cleanse and liberate people's souls, and he could also be redeemed. He is too lost."
"And you, you would be better suited to be a lama, why should you struggle in the ocean of suffering?"
Acong Lama's oratory, and on the same day, it was exactly the same.
Turning around, Acong Lama walked away towards the distance.
My father's face was very serious, but for a moment, it looked somewhat unpredictable.
Acong Lama was too tall.
I don't understand him, and he hasn't shown any signs of turning against us, yet his actions make it hard to deal with.
Going to attack him willingly?
To experience a young and potentially powerful being who emerged from the Yangshen sect?
It's no different from courting death.
"Eight homes will at least destroy a quarter of the Leiping Temple, or even the main lineage of Tiechaoshan, which is like a cloud-striped mountain. This is not the end; they will come back." My father spoke in a low voice.
I was very silent.
When half of the small temple in the Yin-Yang realm is involved, no one can remain unscathed.
"He won't give up either, if this matter is not enough to make us agree, he will do something else, turning his back is his attitude," my father added again.
The former, the Baizhai, is not a direct threat to me; it's more of a related danger.
The latter, Acong Lama, is indeed something that we two cannot ignore.
Now it's a toast, and we have a certain degree of initiative. Acong Lama is speaking seriously.
My father's meaning is that we should not completely tear off the face.
"Let's go, Dad." I opened my mouth.
