Chapter 893: A Rainy Night at Sangharama Temple
The Netherworld River Territory.
One of the Netherworld’s six territories and thirteen realms.
Several places viewed as forbidden ground since antiquity—like the Blood River of Sin, the City of the Wrongfully Dead—existed within its boundless lands.
The climate in the Netherworld River Territory was extremely inhospitable, and the ambient spiritual energy was impure and chaotic. It was also known as the Territory of Sin.
This was because throughout its vast terrain, yao and demons ran rampant, and the heretical path flourished.
The southeast of the Netherworld River Territory, Thousand Snake Mountain.
As night approached, thunder rumbled through the dark clouds filling the dome of heaven, and a sudden downpour started.
The rain rapidly intensified, and it was mixed with baleful Yi energies.
Halfway up Thousand Snake Mountain stood a dilapidated, overgrown temple.
It was long abandoned, yet a fire blazed in the main hall.
The firelight cast away the darkness, illuminating the Buddhas painted on the walls.
Perhaps due to years of neglect, the paintings were already damaged and faded.
The temple’s main object of worship was the clay Buddha statue at the center of the hall.
It had three heads and six arms, and it sat cross-legged on a lotus platform. Its countenance was dignified and majestic.
However, it was severely damaged, and even some of its arms were broken.
Su Yi sprawled out in a wicker chair beside the fire, gazing outside the hall.
The pitter-patter of raindrops resounded throughout the ancient temple built in the middle of the wilderness. Mountain winds blew past, shaking the window lattices.
You Xue stood to one side of the main hall, staring intently at the damaged, fading Buddhist paintings.
Her hair was tied up, and she looked leisurely and comfortable. She was slender, and she wore a long white dress. Her features were exquisite, and as she looked around, her gaze contained an innate majesty.
After a while, she looked away and sighed. “Fellow Daoist, the Buddhas depicted in these paintings are most likely the Eighteen Sangharama deities, the Holy Protectors of the Dharma, right?”
As she spoke, she walked up to the campfire beside Su Yi and casually sat on a prayer mat.
“That’s right.” Su Yi nodded. “In the Netherworld River Territory, there’s sure to be at least one Sangharama Temple once every three hundred miles. All of them worship the Sangharama deities of Buddhism.
“A long time ago, Sangharama Temple was a true peak-level orthodoxy. When Buddhist cultivators joined their ranks, they made a grand vow not to become Buddhas until Hell was empty. Furthermore, they swore to rid the Netherworld River Territory of yao, demons, ghosts, and monsters to create a better world.
“Alas, years ago, when I explored the Netherworld, I heard that Sangharama Temple had met with disaster, and that they’d disappeared from this world.”
Su Yi took a sip of wine, then continued, “In the years that followed, without Sangharama Temple, the Netherworld River Territory gradually fell from grace, becoming a nest of heretical factions. This is now the domain of yao, demons, and heretics. Even now, the situation hasn’t changed.”
You Xue couldn’t help but be stunned. “If it was a peak-level orthodoxy, what kind of disaster must it have faced to have been wiped from the face of the earth like that?”
“Apparently, they planned to destroy the City of the Wrongfully Dead,” said Su Yi. “As a result, on the night of the Lantern Festival, all manner of strange and terrifying powers attacked them. That was when they met their end.”
You Xue said in a daze, “The City of the Wrongfully Dead was one of the most dangerous places in the Netherworld even in ancient times. Sangharama Temple actually wanted to destroy it? That’s really…”
For a moment, she didn’t quite know what to say.
“They knew it was impossible, but they tried it anyway,” said Su Yi. “Had they succeeded, we’d have lauded their courage. Since they failed, we call them fools. No matter what else you might say about them, and even though they’re no longer around, they once swore to rid the world of evil. They tried to realize that promise, too. That alone makes them worthy of admiration.”
You Xue nodded.
A Buddhist sect had taken eliminating evil as their mission to help the masses. This was indeed worthy of respect.
“However, although Sangharama Temple has long since fallen, the temples they built throughout the Netherworld River Territory remain. Even now, they serve as a refuge for the territory’s living creatures,” said Su Yi. “Over the years, whenever night falls, anyone who faces calamity or misfortune simply needs to hide within Sangharama Temple. This is often enough to avert disaster.”
“Why is that?” exclaimed You Xue.
Su Yi smiled. “This is the power of the people’s will. A long time ago, the populace viewed Sangharama Temple with awe and reverence. The people of the mundane world saw its cultivators as bodhisattvas here to save them from misfortune and disaster. Thus, they burned incense and prayed piously day and night.
“When the faith of countless believers gathers over countless years, it creates a type of power: the will of the masses. This power remains even now in the Sangharama Temples built throughout the territory.
“The will of the masses might be invisible, and it might not seem threatening. It’s difficult for even cultivators to detect. However, it can intimidate and suppress ghosts and malevolent entities.”
After hearing the full explanation, You Xue felt enlightened. She couldn’t help but sigh, “No wonder no ghosts have made trouble for us since we sought refuge from the rain here.”
The temple was built in wilderness full of dense, baleful Yin energies. It was easy for places like this to become lairs of evil creatures.
And tonight was especially unusual, as there was no moon!
A night without a moon was a terrifying thing. In the Netherworld, moonless nights were the most dangerous of all.
On such nights, strange and unbelievable occurrences arose, like parades of a hundred ghosts, or jade phosphorus lanterns decorating the black skies. Sometimes, the souls of the dead traveled atop the rivers, and other times, places like the Ghost Gates, the Blood River of Sin, and the Sea of Bitterness gave rise to countless strange entities. It was enough to endanger even cultivators.
Yet even now, You Xue had yet to sense any strange or dangerous auras.
This told her that Su Yi was right on the mark: hiding in Sangharama Temple was enough to avert disaster.
She’d only just thought this when she sensed something and looked outside. “Fellow Daoist, someone is here.”
After a brief daze, Su Yi frowned. “Perhaps trouble is here too.”
It was a moonlit night, and they were in the middle of a downpour. On top of that, they were in the middle of the wilderness. Despite this, someone had shown up. Whoever this person was, they couldn’t possibly be ordinary.
You Xue thought for a moment. “How about I stop them from coming in?”
Su Yi shook his head. “The monks of Sangharama Temple left this place here. We’re only passersby. How could we refuse others entry?”
As they conversed, dazzling lightning ripped through the skies.
At that moment, they could clearly see the thin figure shooting toward them beneath the curtain of rain.
It was a thin-faced man in Confucian robes.
As soon as he entered the temple, he visibly sighed in relief.
But when he saw the campfire and the young man and woman beside it, he couldn’t help but frown, then hesitate.
.
But just as he was hesitating, a calm voice rang out. “This temple has no owner. Do as you please.”
When the man in Confucian robes heard this, he stood beneath the curtain of rain and clasped his fist. “Sorry to disturb you.”
Only then did he enter the hall.
When he saw Su Yi and You Xue’s features clearly, he was stunned despite himself. Then, he said, “I won’t lie to you: I’m currently embroiled in trouble. However, should trouble come knocking, I’ll leave. I absolutely won’t let you get dragged into it.”
He then walked over to a corner of the hall, sat cross-legged, and took out a bottle of medicine, meditating as he took the pills.
“Interesting. This late at night, we just so happened to encounter an early-stage Profound Illumination Emperor. Furthermore, from the look of things, his injuries are severe,” transmitted You Xue. She could discern the man’s cultivation at a glance!
“His cultivation base is unimportant. What’s rare is that he's honest and forthright. Despite his troubles, he’s unwilling to implicate others. That’s uncommon,” whispered Su Yi.
He wasn’t afraid of trouble, but he’d never liked it when trouble came calling.
This stranger considerately avoided making trouble for them. This left quite a good impression on Su Yi.
However, although the man in Confucian robes was a complete stranger, the moment Su Yi laid eyes on him, he could roughly infer his origins.
That was why he’d spoken up earlier to invite the man inside.
Time slipped by.
Su Yi sprawled out in the wicker chair, resting his eyes.
You Xue sat beside the fire. From time to time, she gazed intently at Su Yi’s profile.
It was pouring outside, and the winds howled. The night was desolate, and from time to time, the skies boomed with thunder.
You Xue didn’t care about any of that.
Even if the heavens fell and the earth crumbled, just being with the person she loved gave her an unprecedented sense of peace and satisfaction.
She’d liked this aloof, insufferably arrogant sword cultivator for a long time.
She’d never hidden her feelings, either.
Su Xuanjun knew. Ye Yu knew too.
Alas, when a flow fell into a river, its flowing waters wouldn’t necessarily return its affections. Back then, Su Xuanjun had never taken You Xue’s feelings to heart.
Even so, You Xue never gave up.
She knew full well that Su Xuanjun was extremely unlikely to ever return her feelings.
But that didn’t change how she felt.
Liking someone had never been a matter of logic.
The moment You Xue saw Su Yi in the Ancestral Forbidden Ground, she knew that, even though tens of thousands of years had passed, her feelings for him hadn’t changed.
Sometimes, You Xue wondered what would happen if she spent her whole life desiring him, never to obtain him.
Would she spend her entire life alone and bitter?
Would she live a joyless life, then die?
She had no answers.
But she dared say with certainty that she’d never regretted her feelings for Su Xuanjun, nor had they ever changed.
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