"Where exactly is the Buddha's legacy hidden?" The question pazzuled the abbot for a long time.
"He will understand the secret once he awakens on his own. No one else can find out." The old monk shook his head.
"Alright, I see. Master, will we meet him again?"
"We have preserved the seeds of his eight consciousnesses. With the Vessel of Souls, we will find him and awaken his past life's consciousness," the elder monk replied.
"That's a relief," the abbot sighed deeply, his worry returning. "Master, how many more times can we use the artifact to search for the reincarnated soul?"
"Alas, the artifact's spirit is nearly depleted, and we old ones are not getting any younger. If anything goes wrong, we won't be able to transmit again. We probably have only one chance left."
"But what if there's another accident?" the abbot asked, concerned.
The elder monk quietly poured a cup of tea and handed it to the abbot, who held the warm tea in his hands, still crouching, waiting for the conversation to continue.
After a moment, the elder monk said calmly, "Do not lose the peace and tranquility within your heart."
The abbot forced a grim smile. "Master, that's my line every day. Don't take it from me."
The elder monk shrugged, and after a while, he expressed his regret, "Yes, if another accident happens, we will no longer be able to foresee him. Even if he passes by us, we won't recognize him."
"Master, this young Buddha has attracted the attention of demons so early. I fear they already have ways to detect him," the abbot fretted.
"Ah, I hope in his next life he will be reborn into a more ordinary body, one that does not draw attention," the elder monk said helplessly, sipping his tea.
"What secret methods do the demons have to find him in advance?" the abbot pressed.
"If we can find him, they likely have an easier time. So we must hurry to find him before they do," the elder monk pondered, hesitant.
"Then, Master, could you give me the seeds of the eight consciousnesses? I could search alone, secretly, reducing the chance of exposure."
The elder monk's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you saying....?"
"No, Master. The one who disturbs the mind is also the field demons excel in. We must be cautious. Master, if we can secretly find the reincarnated Maitreya and restore his memories sooner, even by a year, it would be a blessing for all beings," the abbot proposed cautiously.
The abbot was known for his quick wit, but the master did not approve, always believing that such cleverness could affect their practice and the spread of the temple's teachings. However, this time, the elder monk pondered for a while, then nodded slightly.
Before parting, the abbot rubbed his hands together and muttered to himself, "I wonder how a person who seems utterly ordinary would feel if, at the end of their life, they were told they were actually someone of the highest status?"
The old monk, without opening his eyes, replied, "Each of us endures countless trials and tribulations before coming into this world; who says we are merely ordinary people?"
The abbot bowed with palms together and slowly backed away, a subtle smile on his lips.
He thought to himself, "Master, I may not understand the Dharma as well as you, but your wisdom is still not enough."
With a smile and palms together, the abbot left. As he did, he glanced back unintentionally at the silhouette of the elder monk.
Molin looked up at the sky, deep in thought. The sky appeared as two different scenes – one side covered in darkness, with thunder rumbling and lightning striking, a loud sound from the sky to the ground that showed the untamed and harsh part of nature.
Beneath the dark storm clouds, rain poured down like waterfalls, each drop a tear from the sky, expressing an unknown anger. Under the heavy rain, the earth was hit by wind and rain. Rivers rose, creating wild waters that washed the riverbanks, causing a sense of chaos.
Despite the storm, the other half of the sky was calm. Clouds shaped like a Buddha sat in the sky, with one hand raised as if teaching. The sun shone above the Buddha, casting golden rays on it. Under this peaceful sky, the sunlight fell on the earth, causing the grass to grow and bringing life to nature.
Where light and darkness meet, it's like a sharp line, as if two powerful forces are battling. The clouds, with their thunder and lightning, try to consume everything, causing everything beneath to tremble in fear.
The light, though fading, fights back with a gentle yet resilient strength, like a spring rain nourishing the earth. At the edge of darkness, the black clouds gradually turn brown, then lighter, until they finally vanish.
The tension in this standoff was palpable, as if the whole universe was watching this never-ending fight.
Molin quietly watched everything, his mind lost in thought.
Sometimes, the force of darkness seemed overwhelmingly potent, sweeping over everything in its path, leaving no raindrop blameless in the tempest's wrath. However, in the midst of the chaos, Molin held onto a glimmer of strength, a simple yet powerful spark of hope that wouldn't fade away.
In the eerie forest that night, Gongsun Elder struck the woman in the red dress to the ground with a single finger. The beautiful woman suddenly began to tremble like a frightened young animal, shivering slightly as she tried to rise.
At that moment, two monks hurried in, their robes billowing in the wind, their steps light yet quick.
"Come save me!" the woman cried out loudly.
"Heh, you've got allies, but you're too late!" Gongsun Elder sneered coldly, reaching forward to swiftly capture the woman in red. His movements were as swift as lightning, a surge of overwhelming inner strength accompanying them. However, the injured woman managed to dodge behind the two monks.
The elder monk looked puzzled. "Who are you?" he asked. He seemed not to recognize Gongsun Elder, but instead of responding, Gongsun Elder launched a fierce attack.
The middle-aged monk and the young monk joined forces to block Gongsun Elder's attack. The middle-aged monk's martial arts were deep and his movements steady and powerful; the young monk, though not as skilled, was agile and quick, their teamwork seamless. Together, they effectively thwarted Gongsun Elder's advance.
The middle-aged monk watched Gongsun Elder and said, "Stop this madness, old man!"
Gongsun Elder felt a surge of tension and attacked again, trying to break through the monks' defense. Yet, the middle-aged monk's defense was as solid as a steel wall, impenetrable, causing Gongsun Elder to struggle. His brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with urgency.
The two exchanged quick blows before retreating, each inwardly marveling at the other's skill. Gongsun Elder's martial arts were exceptional, and the middle-aged monk's abilities were not to be underestimated either. They both sensed the strength of their opponent. But unnoticed, the woman in the red dress had vanished without a trace.
The middle-aged monk shouted low, "Red Raven, saving the others is the priority!" The young monk immediately obeyed, rushing towards the academy, his steps quick and light.