69novels Chapter 1042 Departing on Clouds
Chapter 1042 Departing on Clouds
In the face of such a team, monsters can hardly play their original role of "creating suffering". Instead, they are very likely to become tools for the team to practice, vent their anger, and sabotage along the way.
Guanyin continued, "Besides, demons are ultimately malevolent. If they are used too frequently, the traces of Mount Ling and the Heavenly Court will be more easily revealed. Although Tang Sanzang still reveres Buddha, he is not entirely unaware of the danger. If Master becomes even more suspicious, then things will truly be difficult to handle."
The Buddha asked, "What do you think?"
Guanyin lowered her gaze slightly, as if she had been thinking about it for a long time.
"Since the demonic path fails, let's try a human."
"people?"
"mortal."
The incense in the hall flickered slightly.
Buddha looked at her but did not speak immediately.
Guanyin slowly said, "Chu Yang and Sun Wukong are cautious towards demons and also cautious when they are in a game. But they will be more lenient towards mortals. Especially Tang Sanzang, who has always been most concerned about the suffering of the human world. If he sees a mortal who is pitiful, devout, and helpless, he will definitely be willing to enter the game. No matter how impatient Chu Yang is, he will not use excessive force against mortals without reason."
"Go on."
"The road ahead leads west, past three prefectures and two counties, where there is a mountain path called Qingdu Ridge. The official road at the foot of the ridge is narrow and long, and most travelers between east and west stop there. At the western end of the mountain path is an old Taoist temple called Xuanyun Temple. It was originally built in the previous dynasty, but its incense offerings have been interrupted for many years. Although it is not at its peak now, it is still one of the few places to rest in that area."
Upon hearing this, the Buddha roughly understood her meaning.
"You're going to use that Taoist temple as a pretext for your scheme."
"Yes," Guanyin said. "No need for demons or supernatural powers. Just replace the Taoist temple with a group of ordinary people."
"Mortals are easily confused."
"But mortals are also the least suspicious," Guanyin said calmly. "Choose some who are eloquent, good at reading people's expressions, good at feigning pitifulness, and good at feigning piety, and add a few who have truly suffered and have a good grasp of human nature. Give them only one task: not to harm people, not to set up formations, and certainly not to block the way to the pilgrimage."
She raised her eyes and looked at Buddha.
"It's provocation."
"Sowing discord between master and disciple."
The Buddhist chanting in the hall seemed to fade into the distance.
The Buddha gently twirled the prayer beads between his fingers: "Do you think they can be sown apart?"
Guanyin paused for a moment, then said, "It may not truly crack. But as long as it arouses a layer of doubt, a layer of anger, and a layer of hidden unease, that will be enough."
Her voice remained gentle, but she gradually made the situation clearer.
"Sun Wukong is fierce and hates being controlled. He also hates others using sentiment to pressure him. Chu Yang is the same. He seems carefree, but he has his own sense of hierarchy. He usually lets Tang Sanzang have his way because Tang Sanzang is upright. But if someone keeps saying things like, 'The master is the most important, and the disciple should abide by the rules,' 'The journey to the West is a major Buddhist event, and others should not cause trouble,' or 'The monks are the ones who suffer because of all the trouble they cause,' Chu Yang might not listen to them."
"Where is Tang Sanzang?" Buddha asked.
"Tang Sanzang is kind-hearted, but also easily ashamed," Guanyin said. "Once mortals put on a show of piety in front of him, and then use a few small incidents to bring up the topic of 'the holy monk's suffering on his journey is all because those around him did not keep to their duties,' even if he doesn't believe everything, he will inevitably reflect on himself. Once he reflects on himself, he will be unable to help but offer a few more words of advice. If he offers too much advice, Wukong and Chu Yang will find it annoying. If they find it annoying for too long, they will easily become rebellious."
She slowly uttered her last sentence.
"As for that fox, she is most easily influenced by words. If the people in the Taoist temple intentionally whisper things like, 'You are an outsider who interfered halfway through the journey and has hindered the holy monk's pilgrimage,' no matter how strong she appears on the surface, she will become conflicted inside. Once she becomes flustered, Chu Yang will be the first to become flustered."
After listening, the Buddha remained silent for a long time.
All the Buddhas in the hall were silent.
If we're talking about using demons, then we're creating difficulties from the outside.
Using mortals would cause trouble from within.
Chu Yang and Sun Wukong have become too adept at dealing with external difficulties, responding to each move with ease and even finding enjoyment in it. However, if someone were to gradually erode the originally solid tacit understanding between master and disciple in the gentlest, most innocent, and most common-sense way, things might not be so easy to handle.
Because with mortals, many things cannot be said as decisively as they are said to demons.
Tang Sanzang could not.
Chu Yang and Sun Wukong are most likely not able to either.
The difficulty in this game lies not in the damage dealt, but in the annoyance.
In detail.
It continues uninterrupted.
Like spring rain, it falls silently, but over time it can soak through the soil.
Buddha finally spoke: "If we only use mortals, and they lose their sense of propriety, it might arouse suspicion."
"Therefore, the choice must be skillful," Guanyin said. "One cannot be too clever, for being too clever would seem like a scheme; nor can one be too foolish, for being too foolish would not be able to control Chu Yang. The best is a mixture of truth and falsehood. In the temple, there are those who genuinely burn incense, those who genuinely cook, and those who genuinely do odd jobs. Some people only know that when distinguished guests arrive, they should serve them wholeheartedly; others, once they have a clue, know when to add a sentence, when to sigh, and when to use someone else's mouth to say the most hurtful thing. Let that hurtful thing seem as if it grows naturally, rather than as if it were handed to them by someone else."
The Buddha's gaze darkened slightly.
"Guanyin, you seem to have become even more adept at understanding people's hearts lately."
Upon hearing this, Guanyin's expression remained unchanged; she simply lowered her head and said, "This disciple has merely seen more."
The Buddha made no further comment.
After a long pause, he finally said, "It's worth a try."
Guanyin replied, "Yes."
"But there's one thing," Buddha said, looking at her, "you must be careful not to overdo it. Provoking others isn't about causing a real breakup. If things get too out of hand, it will only encourage Chu Yang and Wukong to direct their anger even more directly at Mount Ling, which would be a net loss."
"Disciple understands," Guanyin said. "What we need is not to cut off, but to stab. Not to turn against each other, but to leave them feeling awkward. Ideally, the group should leave the temple with a lingering sense of unease; only then will it be effective."
"Go and do it."
"Yes."
When Guanyin withdrew after receiving the order, the golden light in the main hall remained, and the chanting of Buddhist hymns continued.
But as she turned and left the hall, the hem of her robe swept through the light and shadow, giving one an inexplicable chill.
She walked out of the main hall, descended on the clouds, and instead of returning to the South Sea, went to the mortal realm first.
Qingdu Ridge is located in the west. It is not high, but it is long.
The area in front of and behind the ridge is mostly official roads and trade routes, with a constant flow of travelers. Xuanyun Temple, located at the foot of the ridge, is not far from the western entrance, backed by the mountain and facing the road. There are ancient cypress trees in front and a well behind. The temple is not large, with three courtyards in total. Incense is scattered, and most of the time it is used to provide lodging, incense burning, and hot water for passing travelers.
The abbot was originally an old Taoist priest nearing sixty years old, surnamed Xu. He had genuinely practiced Taoism for several years in his early years, but later the world fell into chaos and the temple became deserted. He then supported a group of young Taoist boys and a few poor people from the neighborhood by receiving visitors.
Guanyin stood on the cloud and watched for a long time.
This place is indeed suitable.
It offers a place to rest or find lodging; unlike inns, it's not solely for business, nor is it inherently biased towards Buddhism like temples. If a pilgrim were to pass through, they would most likely stop in for a rest, at least to get some water or shelter from the wind and rain. Moreover, the very word "Taoist temple" is quite subtle.
Buddhist pilgrims on their way to retrieve scriptures passed by a Taoist temple.
If there were a few more ambiguous or suggestive lines in it, that would be even better.
Guanyin raised her hand, and a point of clear light fell from her fingertip.
That clear light was not an aura of killing intent, but rather a very light veil. Anyone touched by this clear light would only feel a slight dizziness, and after a good night's sleep, they would still remember that they had lived in the temple, but they would not remember what guests had come, what words had been spoken, or what faces had been seen on any particular day.
That very night, she quietly replaced all the real old Taoist priests, young Taoist disciples, helpers, and worshippers in the Taoist temple.
It's not a permanent change, just a temporary relocation, like having a very long and deep dream.
And those who were brought in were all people she had already selected.
He was just a mortal.
An innocent and mortal.
Yet he was no ordinary mortal.
There was an old woman who had spent half her life singing tragic operas in a troupe, and who was best at using tears and pauses to soften people's hearts; there was a middle-aged man who had worked as a manager for a wealthy family in his early years, and who was best at reading people's expressions and changing his tune according to the wind; there was an accountant who looked honest but was actually shrewd and was good at making the most hurtful words sound like words of advice; and there were also a few village women and men who had truly been poor, hungry, and had truly tasted the coldness and warmth of human relationships. They did not understand the situation, but they were best at talking about "common sense".
In addition, several young Taoist boys were also arranged.
These people have different identities and backgrounds, and they may not even know everything about each other.
All they knew was that a compassionate Bodhisattva had chosen them and assigned them a task to accumulate merit.
This job doesn't involve harming anyone, drawing blood, breaking the law, or actually harming anyone.
The only thing to do is to "treat" any group of people traveling west who come to the temple in the next few days, following the pre-taught procedures.
Some people were responsible for praising Tang Sanzang's piety.
Some people are responsible for praising the "holy monk" intentionally or unintentionally, saying, "It's really not easy for him, but some people may not understand how to appreciate it."
Someone was responsible for watching over Chu Yang and Sun Wukong, and would sigh from time to time, "Young people are too impetuous. If they mess things up, it will be the master who suffers."
Someone gently said to Su Wanwan, "You mean well, but women are soft-hearted and easily hold men back."
And then there are those who, at the right time, put on an act of "I'm not saying you're bad, I just feel sorry for you."
These words, if spoken once or twice, may not be hurtful.
However, if spoken at the most appropriate time, with the most appropriate expression, and in the most appropriate tone, it will be like tiny thorns, pricking the place where people least want to be touched.
Guanyin personally watched them practice once.
It wasn't a rehearsal like a play, but a dialogue.
"What should one say first upon meeting the holy monk?"
"I have long admired your great virtue, and today I have met you. Indeed, your compassion and upright character are truly admirable."
"What if those two young escorts don't follow the rules?"
"Let's not talk about it for now. When the Holy Monk has had more time to look after things, I'll gently sigh and say, 'Although the two Dharma Protectors are capable, they are still young. If they could be more composed, the Holy Monk's journey would be much easier.'"
"What if that girl were there?"
"Don't speak to her directly. Only when she's alone, casually mention a few words: 'It's extremely rare for someone of your appearance to be willing to endure this hardship. But an outsider is still an outsider. If people feel that you've caused trouble, you wouldn't feel at ease, would you?'"
After listening, Guanyin shook her head.
Too straightforward.
The woman who had spoken immediately panicked: "Great Master, please forgive me, I am a foolish woman."
"It's not about making it obvious to her," Guanyin said calmly, yet with no room for argument. "It's about letting her figure it out for herself. You need to make her feel that those words weren't spoken to her by you, but rather that she understood them herself."
The woman was taken aback.
Guanyin then personally demonstrated for her: "It can be revised to—'Don't take it to heart, young lady. I feel sorry for you because I see you as such a good person. Those who endure hardship and receive little reward along the way are often the most soft-hearted.'"
That sounds much softer.
But hidden beneath that softness lies an even deeper trap.
If Su Wanwan heard this, she would most likely be stunned at first, then ponder it repeatedly in her mind, and finally become more and more unhappy.
The woman quickly wrote it down.
Guanyin then gave a few more words of guidance to the group.
Sometimes, the speed of a sentence, the weight of a sigh, a slightly pitying look in the eyes of Tang Sanzang, or an unintentional furrow of the brow when Chu Yang and Sun Wukong are laughing can be more effective than a direct rebuke.
By the time everything was arranged, it was already dawn.
The ancient cypress trees outside Xuanyun Temple are silhouetted against the morning mist, and the stone steps in front of the temple gate are wet with dew, as if nothing has ever happened.
Guanyin stood in front of the door and glanced at the plaque.
Xuanyun Temple.
With a calm expression, she raised her hand and added a very light layer of protection to the entire temple, not to protect the people, but to protect the "situation".
What they were protecting was this little human drama, so that Sun Wukong wouldn't see through its deep secrets as soon as he entered.
Of course, she also knew that it was unrealistic to completely hide it from everyone.
Sun Wukong is, after all, Sun Wukong.
Chu Yang was no pushover either.
This time, however, they didn't use gods or monsters, didn't set up demonic energy, didn't arrange grand formations, and didn't use any evil illusions. They only used ordinary people, food, gossip, lodging, and thoughts delivered to them day by day.
What good is it if you can see through something like that?
Is Chu Yang going to take up his sword and kill a bunch of muttering mortals?
Does Sun Wukong intend to drive away all the ordinary people who just seem to be "standing up for the holy monk"?
If that were the case, it would only make them less respected in Tang Sanzang's eyes.
This is the source of Guanyin's confidence in using this strategy.
She took one last look at the end of the mountain path, knowing that the group would arrive here in a few days.
Then she turned and rode away on a cloud.
On their journey westward, Chu Yang and his companions were unaware that a Taoist temple, now with a new core, was quietly waiting for them ahead.
They had just come from a place called Baishidu a few days ago.
Baishi Ferry is a watery place, with a large patch of white stones and wild cattails growing along the ferry crossing. In the early morning, the fog is heavy, and the shadows of boats appear and disappear among them, looking like ink splashed on the water from a distance. Su Wanwan was worried that something "to be arranged" might happen at the ferry crossing again, but she crossed the river safely without even encountering a half-baked water ghost.
Sun Wukong leaned against the bow of the boat and lazily yawned: "It's been quite peaceful these past few days."
Chu Yang looked at the distant water and hummed in agreement: "Too much tranquility isn't necessarily a good thing."
"What, are you hoping for something to happen?"
"I don't hope for anything, I just hope some people aren't too honest," Chu Yang said.
Su Wanwan stood to one side with her arms crossed. Upon hearing this, she glanced at him first, then looked at the gradually appearing mountain silhouettes ahead: "You mean, there might be a trap up ahead?"
"It's not just a possibility." Chu Yang raised his hand and brushed the stray hairs from his forehead back. "It's almost certainly true."
Since their conversation that night in Luoxia Prefecture, Su Wanwan has become quite adept at handling things. Upon hearing his words, her first reaction wasn't to panic, but rather to ask, "So, what kind of trap do you think it is? A demon? A human? Or some kind of half-real, half-fake calamity?" (End of Chapter)