"Lord, you were born in the wrong place..." Lao Gong was slightly resentful and muttered, "If you had been born in the Luo family and entered a certain temple, that would have been much better. You're even more cunning than old Maozi."
"However, you are the blood of Scampon, and it is not surprising that your intelligence is like that of a demon. Even your father does not plan as wisely as you."
Lao Gong's words represented his acknowledgment of my father's words and his choice.
"I... Where is my mother?"
The heart fell, a wave of empty space, I asked.
"With you, with Chengying, and there will be your children in the future. Following me means she's destined for a life of drifting, and people always have to make sacrifices." My father smiled and said, "She is kind at heart and not suited to live in such a sinister place."
Subsequently, he slightly pulled my hand.
I can grasp my father, but I am well aware that while I may hold onto a person, I cannot grasp choices or hearts.
Way?
What is the Dao?
The Dao of silk is my silk's Dao, and my father has his own Dao.
Just like Han Jin, who is one-minded, everything he does is not understood by us, yet he persists.
Everyone's path is different.
Those with common goals can be good.
If our paths are different, then we should not collaborate!
I let go of my father's hand.
He continued to walk forward.
It started to snow, a heavy snowfall that covered the ground. With each step, it left a deep print, which was then buried under the snow again.
My father's shoulders and head were covered in snow.
Days and nights continued to cycle, and the simple act of walking was too slow.
Finally, when we reached the spot where we could see the Black City Temple, at the foot of the mountain.
As we continued to move forward, a large number of people began to emerge from the Black City Temple in front of us!
From a distance, these people were not distinct.
Only when we got closer did we realize that it wasn't just the Black Brahmas, but there were also many other elderly monks.
Without exception, everyone looked incredibly cunning and ferocious!
They chanted in Tibetan, words I couldn't understand, and their eyes seemed to want to peel our skin off and eat our flesh!
My father did something.
He unbuckled his waistband, taking out the head of Ahong Rampa!
The head of the Lama!
He held up the head and shouted out, loudly and clearly.
For a moment, under the Black City Temple and outside the Black Tower, all was silent.
He then took off the bone beads hanging from his neck, which was the sacred relic of the Lama Gampala, and shook them one by one, producing a clear and crisp sound.
He shouted several more sentences.
I may not understand the meaning, but I can roughly guess that what he said was that the corpse of Ahong Rampa had been destroyed by us, and the living Buddha at the Five-Buddha Temple had been turned into Gampalas.
Soon, the Black Brahmas knelt one by one, and the elderly monks did the same. They all appeared to show great respect.
What followed was much simpler.
We, the father and son, were welcomed into the inner courtyard of the Black City Temple.
We returned to the main hall where Shengbo originally intended to "deal" with us.
The hall had been cleaned thoroughly; my father's expression was blank, as if he had no emotions for anything.
I know, the greatest emotion is the absence of emotions.
He always remained composed no matter the situation.
Whether in terms of strength or weakness, he was as steady as a rock. The only time he showed a change in his demeanor was when Luo Pin'ao was in front of us, her heart torn out and used for a sacrifice.
These hatreds were buried deep within him.
That's why he would never be assimilated into the Black City Temple.
He would upset the righteousness of the Black City Temple and gaze upon the greed of Ahong Rampa.
However, I still felt no connection to the Black City Temple. I believed that everything about this place was filled with deathly silence and hatred, and that it should have been wiped out entirely, not existing at all.
Just that, as much as I think these thoughts, the roots are buried deep, and they need to be dug out just as deeply. I can't do all this; it has to be done by my father.
I no longer kept a distance of three meters from him.
Because we were at the Black City Temple, a safe distance from Five-Buddha Temple, my father's intention was that even if Ahong Rampa found out, what could he do?
And I completely changed my clothes, leaving behind the map made from human skin.
After such a long time, I had long since memorized everything inside.
My father entrusted two elderly monks with Ahong Rampa's head and sent them to Five-Buddha Temple.
After about three days, the elderly monks did not return. However, from the direction of the Black City Temple, one could see a flock of vultures circling in the sky above that distant mountain.
The vultures occasionally dived down, as if they were fighting over something.
The distance was too great, and I could barely see a human silhouette.
Ahong Rampa had arrived.
However, he had only arrived, and he dared not approach the Black City Temple.
He did not have the courage to do so.
Yes, if Ahong Rampa had the courage, he should have come in directly from the beginning.
Yes, there was another incident during this period. That is, my father's neck beads, which were originally the sacred relics of the Thirteenth Zen patriarch, transformed from emptiness to completion.
My father's explanation was that this was not something he had deliberately done. These bones belonged to the Lama, which carried its own realm and Buddha nature. Shengbo, who had fallen from grace, had been pursued by the "spirits" of the Black City Temple and was utterly exhausted, wishing to restore himself through these Gampalas. However, the Gampalas of other living Buddhas restrained him, preventing him from emerging.
This method is similar to the way Ahong Rampa previously gave the prayer beads to Lao Gong as a temporary object of presence. He also intended to retrieve them and string them into the Gampalas.
My father was filled with great admiration.
At one point, Shengbo wanted to take us, his father and son, as his possessions.
Now, Shengbo in his hands is just a string of beads.
...
About my father's layout for the Black City Temple, I did not participate at all,
Lao Gong mentioned it casually, implying that with the Black City Temple now under our control, it would be unbecoming not to take the vajra staff and poke around in the eight dwellings.
My father shook his head and said that the Black City Temple could only serve as a constraint on Ahong Rampa now.
Moreover, he had received congratulations from the other temples.
As Ahong Rampa had said, there are not just one Buddhist academy and not just one living Buddha; the same is true for the Black City Temple.
Approximately, a vulture circled over the mountain under the Black City Temple for three days before disappearing.
This signified that Ahong Rampa had left.
He did not flee, but it was still particularly ignominious.
I, left the Black City Temple alone, alone.
Perhaps, Lao Gong did say that there were people following me in secret to protect me, but I didn't pay much attention to it.
That kind of escort continued until I reached Da County.
I did not pass through Five-Buddha Temple. In Da County, I could hear some travelers and locals discussing that they did not know what was happening, but they believed that the sky above Five-Buddha Temple had been constantly circling with vultures, which was an ominous sign. Could it be that something had happened to the living Buddha?
Some people were spreading rumors, suggesting that vultures usually do not attack living beings; they only feed on carrion, such as at the sky burial platforms. If vultures were to attack a lama, then perhaps the living Buddha was not a living Buddha but might be a demon instead!
