NHWSG chapter 96

Sheng Zhao was completely stunned.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether to be shocked that the monk actually knew about Xing Yingzhu’s origin, or that he could see through his relationship with Xing Yingzhu.

In fact, Sheng Zhao himself felt a bit uncertain about the intention behind this “second question.”

He had never doubted Xing Yingzhu’s intentions. After all, with Xing Yingzhu, who had such a trashy temper, if he didn’t want to do something, even if Sheng Zhao forced him, he wouldn’t do anything submissive, let alone when dealing with someone like Sheng Zhao, who was nothing more than a small fry.

But now that these two sentences were spoken, the monk was enough to make Sheng Zhao wary.

—Does he have telepathy? Sheng Zhao wondered in confusion.

As soon as this thought came to mind, he shook his head, forcing himself to think of trivial matters to avoid having his mind “read” again.

He absentmindedly counted yogurt flavors while keeping a vigilant eye on the monk, occasionally glancing at the closed door. His mind was torn between fleeing and reasoning.

Indeed, without a diamond, one couldn’t grasp porcelain. Sheng Zhao mournfully thought, Xing Yingzhu became the head for a reason. Although he usually slacked off, he could really handle things when necessary.

…So when will the head of the household return? Sheng Zhao thought despondently.

 

Chapter 96: Being a Clear Ghost Isn’t Bad Either

Sheng Zhao was completely stunned.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether to be shocked that the monk actually knew about Xing Yingzhu’s background, or that he could see through Sheng Zhao’s relationship with Xing Yingzhu.

Even Sheng Zhao himself felt a bit uneasy, unsure of the monk’s intention behind this “second question.”

Sheng Zhao had never doubted Xing Yingzhu’s intentions. After all, with Xing, who had such a trashy temper, if he didn’t want to do something, even if Sheng Zhao forced him, he wouldn’t do anything submissive, let alone when dealing with someone like Sheng Zhao, who was nothing more than a small fry.

But now that these two sentences were spoken, it was enough to make Sheng Zhao wary of the monk.

—Does he have telepathy? Sheng Zhao wondered in confusion.

As soon as this thought emerged, Sheng Zhao shook his head, forcing himself to think about irrelevant trivial matters to avoid being “read” again.

While Sheng Zhao’s mind wandered aimlessly, he kept a vigilant eye on Wu Du, occasionally glancing at the tightly closed door, torn between bursting out and reasoning things out calmly.

Indeed, without a diamond, one cannot grasp porcelain. Sheng Zhao sighed sadly, thinking that Xing Lao Ban becoming the head of the family must have its reasons. Although he usually slacked off and didn’t work hard, when it came down to it, he could really handle things.

…So when will the head of the family return? Sheng Zhao thought in despair.

“There’s still a third question,” the monk said softly, lowering his eyebrows and speaking gently, “Would you like to choose for yourself, or shall I choose for you?”

Sheng Zhao gritted his teeth, thinking that it was either death or being boiled like a frog in warm water, both equally bad.

As his anger surged, a wave of fury overwhelmed his previous apprehension and fear.

“Choose my ass!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to choose or listen to anything!”

His words were fierce, but he was very aware of the situation. As soon as he finished speaking, he rushed to the door, attempting to push it open.

But to his surprise, the seemingly fragile old wooden door seemed to be embedded together like it was impossible to open. Sheng Zhao’s desperate attempt to push it open failed miserably, leaving the door unmoved, like an impenetrable fortress.

Unable to break through, he was afraid of a sneak attack from behind. He subconsciously turned around, pressing his back against the door, and stared at the monk.

However, the monk did not make a move. He remained calm and composed, looking gentle and tolerant, comforting softly, “The three questions are not over yet. The bond between you and me is not yet fulfilled.”

“What bond do I have with you?” Sheng Zhao, anxious and unsure, didn’t even know if he was afraid anymore. He drew the overturned stool towards him, sat down near the door, and sneered, “Stop the nonsense. If the one who really has a bond with me heard you talking like this, you’d be in pieces by now.”

Whether it was because of mentioning Xing Yingzhu or not, Sheng Zhao’s confidence had increased significantly. His peculiar single-threaded brain circuit reconnected, and he didn’t know what fear was for a while.

“Fine, you insist on finishing it, right?” Sheng Zhao said, “Go ahead, let’s see what other questions you can come up with.”

the monk glanced at him indifferently, and a faint glint flashed in his gray eyes.

“Since you asked me to choose, I’ll respect your decision,” the monk said softly, “… for your third question, let me ask you, who are you?”

Sheng Zhao frowned slightly.

This monk, from top to bottom, inside and out, was labeled with the words “demonic” and “sinister.” He kept uttering these seemingly meaningful words, as if he couldn’t wait to write “I have questions” all over his face.

However, when Sheng Zhao was in a panic earlier, he didn’t feel anything wrong. Now that he was gradually calming down, his “instincts” trained by Xing Yingzhu started to come into play—he felt this man was dangerous, yet he couldn’t bring himself to dislike him, nor could he truly generate a sense of vigilance.

Just like the temple, this man in front of him seemed demonic and sinister, but with every move, there was indeed a sense of genuine compassion, making it all very confusing.

If it weren’t for him being sure he wasn’t in a dream, he would have thought he had stumbled into some kind of alternate world from a European and American science fiction movie.

“The first question,” the monk continued, seeing Sheng Zhao’s silence, “you want to know where your friend is—let me inform you, he is right here.”

the monk pointed behind him.

Sheng Zhao followed his gaze, unsure if he meant there was a hidden room behind him or something else.

“I think you’ve been practicing for too long and don’t know that the Criminal Law Amendment has already reached its eleventh version,” Sheng Zhao said, crossing his arms and adopting a clear defensive posture. “Illegal detention is a crime. No matter who you are, you’ll have to go to jail.”

the monk sighed softly and said, “All phenomena are illusory. You are too attached to worldly matters, afraid of being trapped in the realm of the mind and unable to transcend.”

“Thanks, but I’m living just fine. I’m in my prime and don’t need any transcendence,” Sheng Zhao said, “Zhang Jian is from the Taoist school, so he doesn’t need your help to transcend either.”

“All phenomena arise from causes and conditions, and all phenomena cease from causes and conditions,” the monk closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and said, “I have not done anything to him. It’s just that he was troubled in his own mind, thus falling into delusion. If he can cross the sea of suffering himself, he will naturally be able to transcend suffering.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

What sutra is this monk chanting? Sheng Zhao wondered in confusion.

……………….

In the chaotic realm within the Self-Transcendence Temple, Zhang Jian, in deep meditation, furrowed his brows slightly, a drop of cold sweat sliding down his cheek. His hands on his knees trembled slightly.

Ordinary people peering into their past lives might at most know who they were in their previous life, what they did, and what significant karma they had.

If they were powerful cultivators like Zhang Jian, they might experience it firsthand, like watching a movie.

But Zhang Jian not only saw his “past life,” his spiritual consciousness was actually being pulled along, accompanying his soul into the underworld.

For cultivators, prying into matters of life and death was a very important matter. If one couldn’t control it well, there was a risk of breeding inner demons. Not even Zhang Jian, let alone Zhang Chengde, had explored how they died in their previous lives.

Zhang Jian knew it was bad when he saw the “cousin’s” back in the woods. He wanted to end this meditation, but his consciousness was so deep that he couldn’t easily awaken himself!

He dared not forcefully awaken himself, fearing that if he harbored inner demons, his cultivation would suffer greatly. Yet, he was trapped in this past life, unable to break free. He wandered with the young master in the mountains and forests for three years. He almost lost his mind during those three years, his mental defenses crumbling, until he encountered the grim reapers who came to claim his soul.

At that time, Zhang Jian barely retained a shred of consciousness. Thousands of questions popped up in his mind. He wondered why he was given special treatment, as the usual process after death was to report to the local city god, obtain clearance documents, and then proceed to the underworld. Why was he favored to be personally sought after by the grim reaper?

However, after wandering as a lost soul in the otherworld for three years, Zhang Jian’s mind was confused, and this thought flashed in his mind for only an instant before being overwhelmed by a greater numbness.

He followed the grim reaper to the underworld, passing by the last glance at a human village, where a wealthy family was celebrating a wedding.

At that moment, Zhang Jian only managed to take a quick glance before being dragged into the underworld by the grim reaper. He didn’t even have time to look back, but the handsome groom in the grand wedding procession was his cousin.

The grim reaper took him to the judgment hall instead of sending him to the bridge of no return. They brought him before the king of the underworld.

Walking the Yellow Springs Road could even dull the consciousness of a good person. Zhang Jian was muddle-headed, unable to recall his karma in this life. He only thought of himself as the young master from his past life, being dragged onto the platform, pondering if he had done anything outrageously wrong to be judged.

The underworld was eerie and terrifying, filled with the peculiar fragrance of the flower of the other shore. Zhang Jian dragged the heavy chains step by step on the bluestone floor, feeling overwhelmed by the vastness of the place. He struggled for a long time, but still couldn’t reach the center of the hall.

On the high platform in the distance, the dignified king of the underworld sat behind a desk, holding a fine wolf hair brush in one hand and a thin blue book in the other. When he saw Zhang Jian approach, he made a mark on the book with a flick of his hand.

After laboriously reaching the high platform, Zhang Jian knelt down and kowtowed.

“I don’t know what sins I have committed. Could you please enlighten me?” Zhang Jian asked.

“You have committed no sins,” the king replied, scribbling in the blue book occasionally glancing at him. “It’s just that your lifespan hasn’t ended yet. That’s why the grim reaper forgot about you and let you wander in the human world for three years. Hmm, you’ve accumulated many merits through the generations. You’re a good person. You should have been summoned earlier. It’s a fault of the underworld’s inefficiency.”

Zhang Jian looked up at him in confusion.

“In that case, the underworld has decided to make it easier for you,” the king said. “You don’t need to wait in line. Someone will take you to reincarnate… Since your lifespan is insufficient in this life, and you’ve stayed in the human world for no reason, your next life will compensate for your lack of glory and wealth.”

Zhang Jian remained silent. His mind seemed rusty, unable to think of what to say or how to react.

Three years of wandering as a lost soul had eroded most of his memories of his earthly life. When he tried to recall his appearance in his previous life, all he could think of was the long jade pendant and a little fox he had rescued in the wilderness.

Seeing him unable to react, the king didn’t ask further. He made a decision, scribbled and drew on the blue book, then tossed it aside and summoned a ghost servant to take Zhang Jian to reincarnation.

The chains on Zhang Jian’s hands were removed, and he followed the ghost servant out numbly. When he reached the gate of the hall, a thought suddenly flashed in his mind, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“King of the underworld,” Zhang Jian turned back, looking at the looming figure at the other end of the hall, and suddenly asked, “How could my lifespan be insufficient?”

“Hmm, someone had taken your lifeline,” the king casually replied. “By accident, it was as if you and another person swapped lives. Originally, one of you should have died young, but he survived, and you died.”

“What was my original lifespan then?” Zhang Jian asked stubbornly.

The king thought for a moment and decided to give him face. After all, everyone had to drink the soup of Forgetfulness before reincarnation. It wouldn’t hurt to be a clear-minded ghost.

There was the sound of pages flipping at the other end of the hall. After a while, the king’s voice rang out again.

“Your original lifespan was eighty or ninety years, a life filled with goodness and virtues. You never had to worry about your livelihood. There was also a destined encounter that would have been beneficial to both of you, but it didn’t happen. It’s a pity—”