Chapter 1506 — He Who Calls Himself the Tathagata
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 3
"Maha!
" Within the layered dreams of Shen Mu, a great many tiny Shen Mus gathered together. Some wore solemn expressions, some exuded a wild aura, some were clad in beast-hide shorts and vests, bearded and unshaven like savages, some seemed gentle and refined as scholars, and some went barefoot shouldering a cleaver like a butcher of hogs, while others put on the airs of a master of the profound. Then a host of monk Shen Mus came running over, like Buddhas who had attained the Way, Buddhist light blazing from their whole bodies. These tiny Shen Mus of the dream assembled in one hall, encircling the dream beside Shen Mu's primordial spirit.
Shen Mu's primordial spirit was vast; his body pierced through layer upon layer of dream, like a Mount Sumeru running through countless worlds.
The many diminutive Shen Mus talked over one another, each airing his own views, racking their brains to analyze the principle behind the divine powers of the Primordial Sage of the Miluo Palace, and to find how one might avoid having one's thoughts assimilated by him.
The first few days passed without incident.
But on the third day, one tiny Shen Mu was fervently expounding how he would break the Sage's arts; in the heat of his eloquence, the maha, maha of his speech suddenly changed. "What Heaven confers is called nature; to accord with that nature is called the Way; to cultivate the Way is called instruction.
. . " He at once became a freak among the many tiny Shen Mus, and the horde of diminutive Shen Mus fell upon him and beat him to death on the spot.
Yet before long, more tiny Shen Mus were assimilated and turned into sutra-chanters; and though these were beaten to death as well, new tiny Shen Mus kept falling, one after another.
"Maha!
" "Guji! " Inside the dream, countless tiny Shen Mus fell into chaos.
Then a Buddha Shen Mu rose to his feet and formed the Immovable Mudra.
A single resonant boom of a bell rang out, filling the whole scene, cowing those disordered little figures and steadying their hearts and spirits.
Beneath the Buddha Shen Mu's feet a golden spring welled up, and from the spring rose a lotus that lifted him aloft, holy and solemn, and countless tiny Shen Mus turned to look at him. "Ma! Ha!
" The Buddha Shen Mu formed his mudra and slowly seated himself, chanting sutras that to outsiders no one could understand; yet those flustered tiny Shen Mus seemed able to understand them, and one and all they sat down on the ground and chanted along with the Buddha Shen Mu. At once an incomparably magnificent sight appeared within Shen Mu's layered dreams: hundreds of thousands, millions of Shen Mus, a dark and endless mass, seated upon a vast plain like a forest of monks, all chanting the same sutra with one voice, the sound growing louder and louder, more and more unified!
That sound was like a flood of conviction, sweeping across all the dreams, vast, far-reaching; though unintelligible, it shook the heart to its core!
His dreams were like so many Buddha-lands, so many Buddha-realms; Buddhist light spread outward from every dream, boundless and luminous, the Buddhist chant rolling on, calming the soul. Granny Zhu, the Silent Craftsman, the Blind Elder and the others saw this sight and could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. The Lame Elder, after these days of recuperation, was much better than before, and seeing this, he too set his heart at ease.
Granny Zhu laid down the divine bow and said softly, "The Buddhist dharma of the Great Thunderclap Temple is a study of the mind; it is not a faith but a conviction, a tempering of the soul. It may well be able to contend with that Primordial Sage of the Miluo Palace. " The Lame Elder's face was still somewhat sallow. He said, "Shen'er has raised up his own conviction, attaining a mind like vajra, subduing the monkey of his heart.
There should be no one left in the world who can throw his mind into disorder. " The several of them waited quietly.