In the Snowy Region highlands, early in the morning, Sangjie ate a few pieces of milk curd and drank a few sips of butter tea; that was his meal.
He put on thick clothes, grabbed his bullwhip, and lifted the curtain to leave the tent.
Looking as far as the eye could see, the distant snow-capped mountains were pure white and crystal clear, with sharp edges, like the goddess of the earth. The brilliant sunlight shone on the mountain snow, spreading out a large expanse of golden-red glow, which was the goddess's veil, noble and graceful.
Sangjie gazed at the distant mountains in a daze until his parents called him to work, and only then did he reluctantly withdraw his gaze.
Riding his beloved white horse, he cracked his whip to drive the cattle. Yesterday, he had found a pasture with lush water and grass, so he would quickly drive them there today to let the cattle eat their fill.
The thought of these quiet, melancholic yaks filled Sangjie with genuine joy. It was quite remarkable for a family to own ten or so cattle. He thanked the Living Buddha for his blessings, which ensured Sangjie's family had enough food and clothing.
A thin layer of frost covered the ground, the green grass edged in white. Hooves lightly trod, dew wetting patches of fur. Sangjie's white horse snorted, its gait steady, the muscles and bones of its spine rippling, vibrant hot blood surging beneath its thick skin. Sangjie swayed from side to side with its movement. To him, this feeling was endlessly enjoyable: high on the tall horse, he watched the herd of cattle move like dark clouds across the bright white and translucent green sky, all sounds hushed. A misty haze on the horizon, like the end of the world…
An urgent ringing of bells sounded.
"Sangjie! Big Brother Sangjie!"
Sangjie turned his head. A woman on a yellow horse galloped towards him, the bells on her horse's chest jingling, louder than the sound of hooves. The brass bells were polished to a shine, their reflections sparkling like stars.
"Zhuoma!" Sangjie burst into laughter, urging his horse forward to meet her.
They sat on their horses, sharing intimate words, endless sweet nothings, while their two horses, side by side, eyed each other with disdain, occasionally bumping heads.
"Sangjie, look over there!" Zhuoma's eyes were as clear and bright as melting snow from the mountains. When she widened her eyes in surprise, it seemed as if the whole world would be reflected within them. Sangjie gazed blankly, at the distant mountains, the goddess of the earth, the golden glow, the cattle, the vast grassland. If a person's eyes possessed such beauty, then people could completely abandon their appreciation for all other things and simply admire the beautiful eyes of a beautiful woman.
"Aiya! Don't look at me! A monk has arrived over there!"
A monk!
Hearing that word, it was like a bolt of lightning, rushing into his ear, down his spine to his feet. Sangjie shivered violently, the Plateau Red on his face oozing another layer of oil, looking shiny and extremely spirited.
He followed Zhuoma's beautiful finger, looking into the distant mist. A monk in simple clothes, holding an alms bowl in both hands, slowly walked into view.
He lowered his head and eyes, his demeanor quiet and beautiful, his bearing relaxed and elegant. Thin mist and light frost dampened his clothes, covering his face with a faint layer of moisture, like a light veil hanging from a bamboo hat. When he arrived before their horses, he looked up, and through this hazy covering, a pair of profound, poetic eyes appeared.
"Where does the Great Master come from?" Sangjie dismounted to greet him.
"This humble monk, Xuan Shen, comes from Jingye Temple in the Central Plains. He has come specifically to seek guidance on Buddhist teachings from the Tantric masters, and even more so for the Great Compassionate Lu Yuan Bodhisattva to widely save all sentient beings." The monk was humble and gentle, which made people admire him.
The Snowy Region had many devout followers, and monks were especially revered. That day, Monk Xuan Shen received a warm welcome from Sangjie's village.
The monk had intended to rest for one night and then leave, but the villagers' enthusiastic invitation made him stay to preach the Dharma to the faithful.
He dared not mention any classic scriptures, because the Bodhisattva had not yet unified the Dharma. So, he spoke of the various wonders he had seen in the Pure Land: the solemn Mount Sumeru, the towering Bodhisattva statues, the Bodhi forests on the sea. These colors and forms floated from the monk's throat and tongue like lotus flowers, transforming into sweet dew, nourishing the parched hearts of the people of the Snowy Region.
Sangjie and Zhuoma had unwavering faith in the Pure Land. Every moment of the monk's preaching was a spiritual enjoyment. They watched the monk sitting cross-legged on the ground, his eyes as clear as day, radiating a light that transcended the mundane world…
So Xuan Shen explained one by one how to recite the Bodhisattva's revered name and how to perceive the Pure Land. That night, in the quiet nomadic village, besides the sounds of cattle ruminating and horses stamping their hooves, there were also the ecstatic shouts of the faithful.
There really is a Pure Land!
This wondrous world, which broke through the most incredible fantasies, was a beautiful dream that mortals dared not hope for, and now it had come true, making it impossible not to shed tears like rain.
Sheep were slaughtered and cattle butchered, the whole village celebrated. Monk Xuan Shen was offered butter tea, bowl after bowl. People sang and danced, their spirits soaring, and the light of the butter candles shot straight into the sky.
However, such joy inevitably comes to an end.
Three days later, Xuan Shen could no longer stay. He politely refused all attempts to make him stay and set off on the road to Sakya Monastery in Qinzhou.
However, not long after he left, Sangjie caught up with him on horseback that very night.
"Great Master, save us!" The young man dismounted and knelt on the ground, the color of blood on his face already swallowed by a terrified pallor, looking like a lost soul in the faint moonlight.
"What is causing such panic?"
Sangjie spoke quickly, explaining the situation, and Xuan Shen also frowned.
It turned out that shortly after he left, a Lama from the Vajra Sect arrived. He was accompanied by a group of attendants, who had come to demand offerings, money and grain, and even selected several women to be consorts. Originally, the demands of these gurus would have been fulfilled wholeheartedly, but unfortunately, the villagers now only yearned for the Pure Land and no longer wished to be exploited.
"That wicked Lama became furious, and the adults and servants who came with him started yelling and threatening to kill us. Seeing that the situation was bad, I told everyone to quickly escape on horseback. But those evil villains were highly skilled in martial arts and captured everyone. If it weren't for my Baizhuer (white pearl) running fast, I would never have seen you!"
"Where are they now?"
"They said they would escort them to Qinzhou for public punishment."
"Speak no more, we shall pursue them now!"
Xuan Shen thought to himself: "That Boundless Vajra Sect has a bad reputation; it is a great evil sect. With my meager martial arts, it is unknown how many people I can save this time. But time waits for no one. If it comes to a critical moment, I will have no choice but to sacrifice myself to protect these seeds of Buddhism…"
They rode day and night, chasing after that group of villains.
On horseback, Xuan Shen entered the Pure Land and recounted his encounter to the various monks, immediately stirring up indignation. Shaolin immediately dispatched twenty warrior monks to the Western Regions, and other Buddhist sects also responded, quickly gathering a group of martial arts experts to rush to Qinzhou to seek justice for the villagers.
After three days of pursuit, Xuan Shen and his companion finally caught up with the Vajra Sect Lama and his entourage thirty li outside Qinzhou.
Sangjie saw that many of the villagers were injured and couldn't help but shed tears. He mustered his courage, intending to rush into the bandits and fight, but Xuan Shen quickly stopped him and walked forward himself.
"May I ask which one is the Guru of the Vajra Sect?"
A red-robed monk wearing a cockscomb hat emerged from the crowd.
"Om! What a monk from the Central Plains, daring to block the Buddha's path!"
"Amitabha, This humble monk has come to ask the Guru to spare these innocent villagers."
"Heh! How can there be such an easy thing in the world? Just because you say it with empty words, must the Buddha listen? I see that you are disrespectful to the Tathagata and disrespectful to the Dharma! Let me take you down as well and escort you to Qinzhou for an immediate flaying!"
Such a statement truly filled one with shock and anger.
But the Lama was unreasonable and completely disregarded it. He lunged forward in a few steps, raising his right palm. His palm glowed crimson, with fierce electric sparks flashing, like a thunder god's branding iron. It was precisely the Vajra Sect's secret fifth-tier ultimate technique, the Spiritual Heat Palm!
"Subdue the Heretics!"
The palm strike was like a knife, chopping down directly!
-----------------------------
Love my work? You can support me on Patreon! 💫
Get early access, bonus content, and special updates.
👉 patreon.com/Greyhounds