It really was a cauldron!
A small, fist-sized bronze tripod stood on the tray, supported by three short legs. Jing Shu squinted. Was that really what they called a cauldron? It looked more like one of those ancient ritual vessels used for sacrifices or pouring wine to the heavens.
So that was the treasure everyone was after? Honestly, it didn't look like much—just an old relic covered in rust, the kind of thing you'd find in a museum exhibit about the Zhou dynasty.
Jing Shu's group watched from a distance, staying alert. They didn't move, but several sniper rifles were already aimed at them in the dark. Meanwhile, Snake Spirit had sent his little Taiban out to release poison. The plan was simple—if the other side didn't shoot first, they'd be dead before they could pull the trigger.
But until the bet ended, both sides were temporarily safe.
Monk stared at the cauldron, his eyes glistening with emotion. He pressed his palms together and bowed to the chubby monk across from him. "When I was young and foolish, I had no faith. I fled that day in disgrace, leaving the cauldron behind. Master Yuan Tong, five years ago, we made a wager. Would you once again debate the Buddha's path of self-sacrifice and offering one's body to the relics of the Blessed One?"
So the fat monk's Buddhist name was Yuan Tong.
Yuan Tong pressed his palms together in return, bowing as he said, "Master Jie Lu, since you've come today, your spiritual cultivation must've grown. If one truly seeks Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi, the supreme enlightenment, then offering even a burning finger, or a toe, to the Buddha's stupa surpasses offering all the treasures of kingdoms, wives, or the mountains and rivers of the three thousand worlds."
So the young monk's Buddhist name was Jie Lu.
After their exchange of bows, both sat cross-legged on the ground. The presiding host stepped forward to witness the reopening of the five-year-old wager. Then Yuan Tong revealed his hand—two of his fingers were missing.
Under the shocked gazes of everyone watching, he poured oil over his hand and lit it. The flames flickered wildly in the dim light like candles in the wind, their wax replaced by burning flesh. The soft crackle of sizzling oil echoed through the temple courtyard. Even the Black onlookers who had come to watch the excitement went silent, stunned.
This… was supposed to be a Buddhist duel?
Hell no. This was straight-up self-mutilation!
Both monks pressed their palms together and watched as their oil-soaked fingers caught fire.
Jing Shu seemed to see the scene from five years ago—Yuan Tong sitting in the temple, burning his own flesh in devotion, while the young Jie Lu fled in fear. Five years later, Jie Lu had returned with enlightenment and resolve, determined to reclaim the cauldron.
Sweat poured down his face like rain. His expression was full of sorrow and determination, his brows knit tight as he began chanting scriptures. The pain was unbearable, yet he didn't flinch.
Yuan Tong's face remained calm, neither joyful nor sorrowful. "If one does not burn their body, arms, or fingers in offering to the Buddhas, one is not truly a bodhisattva."
"Master Yuan Tong," Jie Lu said through gritted teeth, "I came today not to seek enlightenment but to win this wager—and reclaim what belongs to China."
Yuan Tong shook his head, his tone full of blind devotion. "A true disciple of the Buddha offers their body, burns their fingers, arms, and even their head to honor the Buddha and the stupas. Only by such sacrifices can one cleanse karmic sins and gain supreme blessings."
Jie Lu bit his lip and recited softly, "The sutras say that when offering to the Buddha, one should start with oneself before offering worldly wealth. Those who burn their arms in offering do so sincerely, following worldly customs, and it is fitting."
Jing Shu rubbed her chin. "Uh… what are they even saying? Anyone got a translation?"
Thankfully, Ling Ling, the universal translator, explained, "Master Yuan Tong supports self-immolation as a way to purify karma and attain enlightenment. Monk argues that such extreme asceticism only has value if it benefits both oneself and others. He's against blind self-harm. He came here only to prove himself and win the wager."
The debate between the two monks grew fierce, their words dense and profound. Without Ling Ling translating, Jing Shu would've understood nothing. After coming abroad, she was beginning to doubt her whole life—she couldn't understand foreign languages, and now she couldn't even understand her own.
Wait… there was something seriously wrong here.
"If this debate doesn't end, and neither side admits defeat," Jing Shu asked, "does that mean they'll just keep burning like that forever?"
At first, she'd been shocked but calm. After all, she was a doctor, and one worth a hundred contribution points. As long as they didn't die, she could patch them back up.
In her mind, a monk duel should've been like Shaolin kung fu—some Lion's Roar, a few punches, maybe a palm technique or two. But this? This was two monks literally setting themselves on fire!
Yang Yang squinted and nodded. "That's why we need to be ready for Plan B."
"Will the monk die?"
"Not sure. Maybe."
"One of them's bound to die. Either Yuan Tong or Jie Lu… maybe both'll reach Nirvana together."
Everyone fell silent. Watching from the sidelines wasn't as easy as it sounded. It was painful to see someone they'd lived and fought alongside for months now burning alive before their eyes. Jing Shu felt like ants were crawling all over her seat.
How long would it take to burn someone to death like that? A cremation furnace took about an hour, and that was quick and painless. But this? This was slow, agonizing death. Every second the fire ate away at the skin, burning through nerves, muscles, and bone. The pain was beyond anything words could describe, like being pierced by ten thousand arrows without end.
And the worst part? You had to watch it happen. You had to look at your own body—watch your fingers, palms, and arms turn to ash bit by bit.
If you compared their mental states, Jie Lu's suffering was definitely worse. Yuan Tong believed he'd be reborn in the Pure Land. His faith was unshakable. But Jie Lu didn't believe in self-sacrifice. To him, this wasn't devotion—it was torture. His heart must've been filled with fear and despair.
Jing Shu suddenly wondered how much courage it had taken for him to come all the way to America and face this.
If you put it in simple terms, it was like this: Yuan Tong was sitting in first class on a crashing plane, insured for billions. Even if he died, his faith promised eternal compensation. Jie Lu, on the other hand, was in economy class, no insurance, no guarantee—just praying for a miracle landing.
That was the difference in their mindset.
Time crawled by. For Jing Shu and the others, every minute felt unbearable. For the monks, every second was an eternity. The pain stretched endlessly, magnified a thousand times over.
One of Jie Lu's fingers finally burned down to the bone. The presiding monk calmly added more oil, slowing the burn to make their offering more "devout."
Even the Black onlookers began backing away. The eerie silence, the flickering firelight, the faint smell of burning flesh—it was too much. Their skin crawled with goosebumps.
The Chinese… were terrifying.
===
I'm thinking about picking up a new novel to translate soon, and right now I'm considering two titles: "The Fortune Pawn Shop: A Life to Sale" and "I Built My Own Inheritance."
The first one follows a girl named Ning Xia, who only has one week left to live. She suddenly inherits a mysterious pawnshop with one rule: give what you value most, and you'll receive what you desire most. It's eerie, dramatic, and full of emotional deals and secrets. I really love the premise.
The second story is about Su Wan, whose phone suddenly updates with this game called "My Ancestors' Era." Inside it, she can interact with people from the past and help them survive, build their family, and improve their lives. Every time she succeeds, she receives real antiques in the present.
Then her parents call her home to inherit the family property, and she realizes the incredibly wealthy and powerful family she helped build in the past... is actually her own. The fortune she is about to receive is the direct result of her own actions. I find this concept super fun and refreshing.
Both novels are currently serialized and have around 100 chapters, so they're still relatively short. I think I can catch up to the latest raw chapter within a week. As usual, I'll publish the translations on my AO3 account, and I'll share more detailed previews on Discord before I officially start.
The second novel is written by Chen Yuqing, who also wrote "With Double the Initial Opportunities," "This Isn't Exile, It's Clearly a Vacation," "I Turned Trash into Treasure in the Cultivation World," and "Space Check-in: I'm Farming in the Apocalypse." I've read some of their work before, and honestly, I might pick up another one in the future. Like Feng Ling, they focus on strong female MCs and No CP stories, which is exactly my taste.
I know my schedule is a little chaotic right now. On Webnovel, Stealing Luck, True Heir (Feng Ling's), and Troublemaker's Guide are all running low on drafts, and my AO3 projects How I Fed and My VR Games haven't been updated in a few weeks. Plus, I'm still busy organizing the Discord server and updating more than 100 C.AI characters (help me lol). It's a lot all at once, and I really need more time to get everything sorted before things go back to normal. It might take a month, maybe even longer.
I'm really sorry for the messy update schedule recently, especially on Webnovel, since I used to update pretty consistently. Thank you for your patience and for understanding. It means a lot to me. ♡