Chapter 47 — A Third Guest Suddenly Appears in the Trap
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 3
"Grandpa Ma said the golden rings of the Ximiro dispel stray thoughts and evil thoughts: when the heart stirs, the rings stir, and for each stray or evil thought the rings sound once. Now they ring like copper beans in a sieve, clanging without cease — do I truly have so many stray and evil thoughts?"
Shen Mu looked down, and did not know whether to laugh or cry: Hu Ling'er was shaking like a sifter, clutching his leg for dear life, and her tail lay draped over the Ximiro. It was not Shen Mu's heart that was in disorder, but the little fox's.
"Ling'er, move your tail aside a little," Shen Mu said.
Hu Ling'er flicked her tail aside and went on trembling.
Shen Mu frowned. With Hu Ling'er's tail moved away, the Ximiro's golden rings still swayed and clanged without cease.
"Could it be that besides Hu Ling'er and me, there is a third person here? A third person teeming with evil thoughts? Could it be the woman who sings?"
The Ximiro's golden rings rang faster and faster; plainly there was a third person here, whose stray and evil thoughts were so many that the Ximiro, sensing them, would not stop ringing!
In the air the song drifted to and fro, ever more sorrowful.
Shen Mu looked down and suddenly shuddered: in the mist a bony, gnarled hand was reaching toward the Ximiro; before it touched the staff it trembled as though struck by lightning, and silently drew back.
Leaning on the Ximiro, Shen Mu looked around, and the corner of his eye twitched despite himself: in the mist all about, gaunt hands kept reaching toward him, only to shrink back involuntarily when they met the Ximiro.
And the soft song in the mist grew clearer, as though sung at his ear.
"What on earth is in the mist?"
His scalp prickled. Hu Ling'er had already climbed his trouser leg to his back, then burrowed into his bosom and hidden inside his clothes, only her furry little head poking out to steal glances around, shivering.
The scene was truly horrifying, and Shen Mu could not help but feel some disquiet; yet the quivering of the golden rings had a calming effect on the mind, and his heart soon settled again.
He steadied himself. So many hands — plainly they were not all one person's.
"Whatever you are, begone, all of you!"
Shen Mu's yuan qi surged, rushing down his arm into the Ximiro; he raised the staff and struck it down heavily. With a great clang, the Ximiro suddenly burst forth with rays of light that shot out in all directions; at the same moment a Buddha's image appeared behind him, seated cross-legged in the air, and the sound of Sanskrit chanting rose loud.
"Thus have I heard!"
The Buddha's image chanted, its voice reverberating: "Since beginningless time all living beings have passed through birth and death in unbroken succession, all because they do not know the ever-abiding true mind, the pure and luminous essence of their nature, and instead employ false thoughts. Because these thoughts are not true, there is the turning of the wheel — the turning — the turning — turning —"