Chapter 225 — Desperate Struggle (Part Two)

Zhou Que turned it over in his mind, yet could truly devise no good plan. The only thing was to play for time, so he spoke up and took up the thread: "You must not be rude to the Buddha. The Buddhist and Daoist gates each have their strengths. We who cultivate the Way, though we have our tribulations and perhaps more hardships than the Buddhist gate, are in truth in accord with the highest principle that Heaven's course is ever strong. As the ancients said: 'The heart like white clouds, the mind ever at ease; the will like flowing water, going east or west.' Returning to the source—this is precisely the realm of my Daoist gate."

Zhou Xuan straightened his body, and an aura of the ancient primeval flood burst forth: the rolling grey sea, the heaven-piercing pillar, the ancient sacred mountains, fierce beasts and venomous dragons, giant serpents and lions—a host of primeval creatures appeared, splitting open the scene of Paradise and seizing half the realm, standing in equal opposition to Maitreya Buddha.

In any case, to stall for time, Zhou Jin spoke wildly. The Twelve Ancestral Shamans, though but分身—though but clones—contained power simply inexhaustible; Zhou Xuan threw the full force of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans into play, and only just managed to ease somewhat beneath Maitreya Buddha's oppression.

Maitreya Buddha, smiling amiably, saw Zhou Xuan's full counterattack and did not press harder; instead he pressed his palms together and uttered a Buddha's name. The scene of Spirit Mountain thereupon vanished—Zhou Lang, Maitreya no longer attempting to tempt the disciples, also withdrew the primeval scene. To forcibly combine the power of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans was truly too exhausting.

If Zhou Xuan could comprehend the divine power, refine all the clones of the Twelve Ancestral Shamans, and fuse them into his own dharma power, his strength would press directly upon the Three Pure Ones. And if the Twelve Ancestral Shamans were restored to the strength of their prime, then to remake heaven and earth, re-refine earth, fire, water and wind, and reshape the Six Paths of Reincarnation would be the work of a finger-snap. Alas, both were but imaginings—at least for now, impossible.

As matters stood, the Twelve Ancestral Shamans and Zhou Xun were one body, yet merely a dharma artifact—an external force after all, not entering the true stream, and not to be compared with power fused into oneself.

Maitreya Buddha laughed. "Well said—'the heart like white clouds, the mind ever at ease; the will like flowing water, going east or west.' Yet clouds and water are both things that flow, and neither endures. Clouds must at last scatter; water must at last run dry. Might I ask the Emperor Lord: when the clouds scatter and the water dries, will the Emperor Lord still have the Way?"

Zhou Xuan laughed heartily. "It is precisely when the water dries and the clouds scatter that the pearl appears as the water fails, and the bright moon hangs in the sky as the clouds disperse—this is what endures!"

Maitreya, seated upright upon the nine-grade lotus throne, likewise laughed aloud and was about to retort when suddenly his mind stirred. He calculated with his fingers, and at once his smile faded somewhat. "Very well. The Emperor Lord is a man who has the Way, and Buddhism and Daoism each have their strengths. I heard your young friend say just now that he obeys the Emperor Lord's every instruction. Might I ask whether the Emperor Lord would care to make a wager with this poor monk?"

"The Eastern Buddha's dharma power is boundless; as for wagers, let them be. This poor Daoist never makes them. This disciple of mine has no affinity with the Western Paradise—the Buddha had best return whence he came." Zhou Jing thought: though he began by putting me in my place, once Maitreya appeared he has been all courtesy, with no sign of turning hostile. Given Maitreya's station, coming to a man's door to seize his disciple was, after all, something he could not bring himself to do.

"Ha ha, no matter, no matter. The Emperor Lord had best hear the terms of the wager first." Maitreya wore a look of complete confidence, as though Zhou Jin were certain to accept.

"Yellow-Browed Boy, go down below and fetch a handful of sand," Maitreya instructed.

One Yellow-Browed Boy did indeed descend to the ground and returned with a handful of sand.

Stretching out his great hand, Maitreya placed the handful of sand in his palm and said to Zhou Jing: "This poor monk has no great divine power—only a few small tricks. In my Buddhist gate there is a verse: 'The inner and outer numinous light is everywhere the same; a Buddha-land lies within a single grain of sand.'"

He blew out a breath and blew all the grains of sand from his hand away, leaving only a single grain the size of a sesame seed. Holding his hand up to the wind and giving it a shake, he transformed it to a hundred li across. Maitreya spoke again: "In my Buddhist gate there is a verse: 'The inner and outer numinous light is everywhere the same; a Buddha-land lies within a single grain of sand.' Let the Emperor Lord enter my palm. If only he can escape the Buddha-land within the sand, and slip free of this poor monk's palm, then this poor monk loses."

"West of these two realms there are in all three thousand seven hundred mountain peaks. Let these be the stake. If the Emperor Lord wins, my disciple the Ten Thousand Venoms Revealer shall withdraw from the Ten Thousand Venoms Mountain and yield it to the Emperor Lord for the spreading of his teaching. If the Emperor Lord should slip for but a moment, then please, part with what you love and yield up your beloved disciple—which would be merit without measure besides. This wager will also nicely settle the debate between us just now—two ends gained at once. What does the Emperor Lord think?"

Maitreya chuckled twice. Zhou Xuan's expression changed. Though Maitreya's words were offhand, the phrase "slip free of this poor monk's palm" was a plain provocation; at these words, even Wen Yanlan and the others burned with anger.

Thus Zhou Xuan, unless he were to abandon all face, could not refuse—and still less could he lose. This move of Maitreya Buddha's—retreating in the open while pressing in the dark—was truly vicious.

As for the stake, the Buddhist gate stood to lose nothing at all. That Ten Thousand Venoms Revealer had only occupied the area around Ten Thousand Venoms Mountain, and had not subdued all the demon kings there; even if Zhou Xuan won, he would still have to subdue them himself—only without interference. And after subduing them, Zhou Xuan could be set against the Holy Mother Wudang behind Snake Coil Mountain, the two sides wearing each other down, while the Ten Thousand Venoms Revealer could sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight from within West Niuhe Continent.

"A man without shame is invincible under heaven—but alas, my present station will not allow it. Let us have the wager, then." Zhou Que thought: if Maitreya Buddha were to fight me in earnest, blade against blade, I would of course be no match; even with all Twelve Demon Gods unleashed, there would be no hope of victory; the best outcome would be to escape with my life.

But Maitreya was the Eastern Buddha; to stoop to a real brawl would of course be beneath his dignity. In this wager, Zhou Xuan could bring his full dharma power to bear, while Maitreya was under certain restraints—he could not, of course, use any means of attack, and could only work upon the single word "trap."

"Excellent—since the Eastern Buddha is so minded, this poor Daoist will make so bold as to oblige." Zhou Xuan rose into the air and leaped into Maitreya Buddha's palm.