The crimson countdown in the sky ticked away like drops of blood, each second bringing the shadow of death closer. Yet outside the window, the flying assassins remained in the air, perfectly still, as if waiting for a final command. The spectators' breaths quickened, their eyes fixed on these cold, unfeeling machines, with excitement building up. Some could no longer hold back and shouted out loud.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!" Their cries rose like a wave, reminding one of the ancient Roman crowds cheering on their gladiators. Back then, the gladiators marched toward their fate, their blades gleaming as they mercilessly executed those who had failed.
Suddenly, the flying assassins moved! Their bodies shivered slightly, as if they had received some silent command, and then they began to glide through the air in smooth arcs. To everyone's shock, they did not attack. Instead, in perfect order, they left the battlefield one by one, retreating with surprising precision.
"How is this possible?" a murmur of disbelief spread through the crowd.
"Are these stupid machines broken?!" someone shouted angrily. The outcome had indeed caught everyone off guard, turning their excitement into confusion and frustration.
At that moment, the deep toll of a bell rang out from the distant sky."Bong, bong, bong..." With each chime, it was clear: the hunt was over.
A torrent of insults and curses flooded the livestream. Caron coughed lightly,"Well, I can't believe my eyes either. These smart machines somehow decided the room was empty!" He didn't believe his own words, but he knew it didn't matter if others believed him; as long as he did. In truth, only he knew that his boss, Sebastian, had given him clear instructions before the hunt began: no matter what, keep the boy alive. He is our cash cow.
Caron had silently dispatched two of the latest high-tech invisible drones provided by his boss. One drone emitted a cloaking wave, covering the classroom and making it appear lifeless to the assassins' sensors. The other drone sent out barely visible blue waves, scanning A-Lai from head to toe, quickly repairing his injured body. A-Lai inexplicably sat up, his wounds visibly healing and his strength rapidly returning. The beautiful eyes that watched A-Lai's swift recovery were so astonished they let go of his body, staring at him as if he were a monster, forgetting their previous shyness.
A-Lai clenched his fists, feeling stronger than before his injuries. What was going on? Tonight's bizarre events surpassed all the strange occurrences he had encountered in his life.
---
At the same time, in the Moon Lake Temple, a monk hurried to the abbot's side and whispered something in his ear. The abbot's eyes widened in surprise,"Does the master know?" he asked.
"Not yet," the monk replied. The abbot, hearing this, rushed out of the room, abandoning his usual calm demeanor.
In another part of the temple, Mo Lin was chatting and drinking tea with an elderly man in tattered clothes. Since leaving the meditation room that afternoon, Mo Lin had been longing to share his thoughts with someone. He didn't dare disturb the abbot, so he looked around the empty courtyard and saw an old monk who had just finished sweeping, resting on a tree stump. The old monk wore a worn-out, yellow-brown robe, his hands calloused from years of hard work, and a large broom lay beside him. He now only performed physical tasks like sweeping and making tea, much like a retired civil servant with no chance of promotion.
Mo Lin thought to himself, this old monk seemed to be wasting away his remaining years. As the saying goes,"If you hear the Tao in the morning, you can die in the evening," Mo Lin mused that what he had discovered could save this old monk's unremarkable life.
"Shifu, could you make me a cup of tea?" Mo Lin began, looking for a way to start the conversation. The old monk opened his eyes, filled with serenity and calmness. He smiled without saying a word, stood up, and brought over a set of coarse pottery teapots and cups, then began to stoke the fire and boil water.
"Shifu, you won't believe what I just discovered in a book," Mo Lin said eagerly. The old monk seemed not to hear him, only smiling warmly and waiting for him to continue.
"Shifu, you sweep and make tea every day in this temple. If I tell you what I've found, you'll realize you've wasted your entire life," Mo Lin habitually used a provocative approach to arouse the old monk's interest.
"Oh, is there something better than jasmine tea?" The old monk finally seemed intrigued by Mo Lin's words.
Although the old monk's casual attitude slightly annoyed Mo Lin, he felt sorry for the old man, still boiling water and sweeping at his age. So, he patiently began to explain his discovery.
"On this day 2600 years ago, the disciples of Buddha were solemnly kneeling before him, the air thick with sorrow. Buddha's breath was faint, and his appearance had lost its usual radiance. His chief disciple, Ananda, was filled with unease, kneeling by Buddha's side, repeatedly seeking guidance. Buddha's voice, filled with compassion, described the future world he saw.
"Over the next millennia, human hearts would degenerate, the earth plagued by diseases, floods rampant, and disasters frequent. Prices would soar globally, making everyday life increasingly difficult. Nations would constantly be at war, with people slaughtering each other for power and scarce resources. Meanwhile, the secular world would pursue extreme pleasures, luxurious temples, and extravagant monks straying from the essence of the Dharma.
"At this time, Mara, seeing an opportunity, would descend from his realm with an army, bringing advanced technology and terrifying weapons. His greatest amusement would be manipulating human hearts, watching these failed creations of the gods reveal their darkest, most vile sides, struggling to survive in arenas, killing each other until none remained standing.
"In such an environment, people's minds would be oppressed, and compassion and care would seem forgotten in a gloomy world. Malevolence and ill-will would be omnipresent, like an invisible plague. Human lifespans would shorten under the dual pressures of war and living costs. In this chaotic era, evil deeds would become commonplace, and evildoers would be as numerous as grains of sand in the sea. Those kind individuals, their voices and actions would be precious but rare. The Buddha's teachings would suffer corruption, and Buddhist scriptures would be deliberately mixed with false ones. People would gild mud and straw, worshiping them as sacred in temples. This era would be known as the Five Turbid Eons, where the demonic path flourished, and countless practitioners strayed further from the true path."
Mo Lin's heart was filled with boundless sorrow and worry."Isn't the current world exactly as the Buddha described, the Five Turbid Eons? Recently, celestial phenomena have been occurring frequently. I don't understand why the Buddha, having foreseen all this, didn't directly provide a solution or, with his supreme compassion, end the calamity. Instead, he waits for Maitreya Buddha to descend and re-educate the world?"
As the water on the corner brazier boiled, the old monk removed the kettle from the fire and waited for it to cool. He took a small pinch of jasmine tea and placed it in a large earthenware tea caddy.
Mo Lin continued with his worries,"The Buddha predicted that only with the reincarnation of Maitreya Buddha would this chaotic world gradually return to normal. Before entering Nirvana, the Buddha entrusted two of his relics to his disciples, instructing them to pass them on to the future reincarnated Maitreya Buddha. When Maitreya Buddha accepts the relics, he will awaken to the memories of his past lives and begin a new mission to save the world. What if something goes wrong with the transmission of these relics? Wouldn't it mean eternal darkness like an endless night?"