According to the old Taoist, when he first discovered Fang Yi at the entrance of the temple, the boy was entirely unclothed, lacking even a swaddling cloth to cover his body. The only possession he had at that time was a pendant hanging around his neck, which he was attempting to swallow, his small face flushed with exertion. Had the old Taoist not found him when he did, it is uncertain whether Fang Yi would have survived.
However, the old Taoist seemed rather indifferent to the bone pendant. While he informed Fang Yi that it had been found on him, he forbade the boy from wearing it, leaving the young Fang Yi perplexed and curious about its origins.
On one occasion, after a few drinks, the old Taoist revealed to Fang Yi that the pendant, slightly larger than a thumbnail and intricately carved with seemingly simple lines, was actually a Buddhist artifact, specifically a special implement of the esoteric tradition known as a "gakabara" in Tibetan.
The term "gakabara" refers to prayer beads or ritual objects made from human bones, a practice unique to esoteric Buddhism among all religions. Esoteric Buddhism, also known as Vajrayana, is one of the sects of Buddhism that thrives in regions like Tibet and Qinghai. Its practices are characterized by highly organized rituals and incantations, embodying a mystical essence.
Esoteric Buddhist implements often utilize human bones, but not just any bones will suffice; they must be the remains of revered lamas. This aligns with the Tibetan custom of sky burial, where the deceased's body is offered to vultures, symbolizing the Buddhist principle of selflessness. The flesh becomes sustenance for other beings, while the bones are repurposed into sacred artifacts.
Typically, the bones used for prayer beads are phalangeal bones and frontal bones. In Buddhism, the concept of causality is paramount; thus, monks frequently use finger bones during rituals, while the eyes, as the windows to wisdom, are integral to understanding Buddhist texts. These two areas are considered the most significant, as they embody the essence of enlightenment, making them suitable for crafting instruments that unlock wisdom for future generations.
Creating prayer beads from finger bones is relatively straightforward, usually requiring the bones of ten fingers to form a single set; however, frontal bones are denser and may necessitate the remains of several esteemed monks to produce one set.
Imagine, then, that a mere set of prayer beads could embody the essence of numerous high lamas—a treasure of immense value for any Buddhist practitioner. Furthermore, the craftsmanship involved in creating these bone beads is intricate and labor-intensive. Each bead is handcrafted, requiring exceptional skill, and the process of polishing them to a luminous sheen can span decades. Gathering enough frontal bones for an entire set may take the passing of several lamas, leading to a single set potentially requiring fifty, sixty, or even a hundred years to complete.
Only prayer beads made from phalangeal and frontal bones can be termed "gakabara." In contrast, beads crafted from other bones, such as those from the tibia, are simply referred to as "human bone beads" and cannot be classified as "gakabara." The rarity of "gakabara" made from the bones of high lamas is staggering.
Due to geographic isolation, prior to the 1980s, contact between Tibet and the mainland was minimal, and Tibetan Buddhism remained shrouded in mystery. Had the old Taoist not traveled extensively and gained a wealth of knowledge, he might not have recognized the "gakabara" as being crafted from frontal bone.
According to Fang Yi's master, this particular "gakabara" contained pure spiritual energy, likely fashioned from the frontal bone of an enlightened monk or even a living Buddha. However, despite the old Taoist's open-mindedness, he was reluctant to allow his Taoist disciple to wear a Buddhist artifact.
Raised by his master, Fang Yi held deep respect for him. Although he understood the profound connection he had with the "gakabara," he never wore it, choosing instead to occasionally admire it in solitude during the quiet of the night.
"Why so anxious? What do you think I haven't seen before?"
When the portly fellow saw Fang Yi's reluctance to let him touch the pendant, he exclaimed, "Fang Yi, have you been courting some girl while I was away in the army? Come on, confess—did a girl give you this as a token of love?"
Strangely enough, despite growing up in the mountains and often foraging for herbs with his master, Fang Yi had always possessed a fair complexion and handsome features. Aside from the calluses on his palms, he bore little resemblance to a child raised in the wilderness.
When Fang Yi and the portly fellow were around thirteen or fourteen, the portly fellow and San Pao occasionally brought village girls to play with Fang Yi. Without exception, those girls, who were somewhat more precocious, would express some fondness for him, much to the portly fellow's chagrin, leading to such remarks.
"A token of love? You really think highly of yourself..."
Hearing the portly fellow's words, Fang Yi chuckled, "This is a ritual object known as a 'gakabara,' crafted from human bone. Do you think the village girls would give you something like this as a love token?"
"Crafted from human bone? Why didn't you say so earlier?"
The portly fellow quickly withdrew his hand from the "gakabara," hastily saying, "The old Taoist always has these bizarre things. Who would dare wear something so sinister? I suggest you keep that thing far from me..."
Having grown up alongside the old Taoist, the portly fellow was aware that despite the old man's eccentricities, he was a deeply knowledgeable figure, possessing many things beyond common understanding. Thus, he assumed the "gakabara" was simply a gift from the old Taoist to Fang Yi.
"You know nothing..." Fang Yi couldn't help but laugh at the portly fellow's foolishness. "The 'gakabara' is made from the bones of an enlightened monk and is believed to ward off evil and bring safety. How can you turn it into something sinister?"
Fang Yi, weary of the portly fellow's chatter, decided not to engage further. He carefully held the "gakabara," stroking it gently before placing it around his neck.
As the sole clue to his origins, Fang Yi regarded the "gakabara" with utmost reverence. While he had refrained from wearing it out of respect for his master, now that the old Taoist had passed, he felt compelled to keep it close.
"As a rightful disciple of the Tao, wearing a Buddhist artifact does seem somewhat inappropriate..."
Feeling the coolness of the "gakabara" against his chest, Fang Yi experienced a peculiar discomfort. The source of his unease lay in the old Taoist's criticisms of Buddhism during his lifetime, often deriding it as a collection of charlatans, with true enlightened beings becoming increasingly rare.
"Alright, let us go pay our respects at my master's grave, and then we shall descend the mountain..."
Securing the "gakabara," Fang Yi clapped his hands. Both he and his master were individuals devoid of worldly possessions; aside from a few strands of prayer beads used for daily practice, they had little more than a handful of tattered Taoist robes. Even the small wooden box left to him by his master was not full.
"Yes, we should bow in reverence to him since we were not present when he passed..."
Upon hearing Fang Yi's words, the portly fellow's attention shifted away from the "gakabara." Although he often spoke disrespectfully of the old Taoist, he had greatly enjoyed the old man's hospitality and maintained a deep-seated respect for him.
"When I have wealth, I shall return to restore the Qinggong Palace..."
As Fang Yi and the portly fellow exited the temple, he glanced back, a pang of reluctance tugging at his heart. Though living there had often felt lonely and cold, the thought of leaving stirred a wave of nostalgia within him.
"Come now, I can always return with you to restore this place, can't I?"
Despite his seemingly carefree demeanor, the portly fellow was perceptive. Noticing Fang Yi's reluctance, he draped an arm around Fang Yi's shoulder and said, "Let us hurry and visit the old man's grave. I'm curious to see what kind of auspicious site he chose for himself."
While alive, the old Taoist often lamented his mastery of geomancy and divination, yet he had no disciples to benefit from his knowledge. Even if he had selected an excellent burial site, it would not extend its blessings to future generations.
"Don't get any funny ideas..."
Seeing the portly fellow's shifty eyes, Fang Yi couldn't help but swat him on the head, exasperated. "My master set up protective wards around his grave. Anyone who dares to trespass will find themselves in dire straits. Besides, there's nothing of value in his burial site, so don't even think about it..."
"Hey, Fang Yi, don't wrongfully accuse me! I have no such intentions..."
After being swatted, the portly fellow protested, "If I were looking for something like that, I'd go seek out our own ancestors, not the old Taoist. What valuable burial goods could he possibly have?"
"Enough! You don't even know who your ancestors are. Stop babbling nonsense..."
Fang Yi chuckled at the portly fellow's words. The portly fellow's name was Wei Jinhua, though he was often called "Jinhua." As a child, he frequently got into fights over that nickname.
According to the portly fellow, their family was originally surnamed Cao, claiming descent from Cao Cao of the Three Kingdoms era. After the Jin dynasty conquered the Wei state, they changed their surname to Wei to escape persecution, ultimately settling in this small mountain village.
While there was some truth to the portly fellow's claims—his family possessed a genealogy that could trace back to that era—the old Taoist had once examined that genealogy and remarked that the villagers might indeed be descendants of Cao Cao.
However, a few years ago, a fire had consumed the village's ancestral hall, reducing all genealogical records to ashes. This event deeply saddened the portly fellow, who had long aspired to uncover the tombs of Cao Cao's seventy-two mysterious graves. The fire extinguished that dream.