Volume Two: Inheriting the Legacy, Blood on the Brocade Chapter 127: An Esteemed Guest

Jingneng remained cold and impassive. Despite his fierce appearance, he patiently waited for Yang Ning to finish speaking before finally asking, "Are you done?"

Yang Ning, unsure if his internal injuries had fully healed, would have turned and left long ago if he could.

"You have spoken two things that are incorrect," Jingneng declared. "First, anyone who enters the Great Bright Temple, monk or otherwise, must abide by its rules. Regardless of how mighty or noble you may be outside these gates, once you are here, you must shed all such identities." He paused before continuing, "Second, since the founding of the Great Bright Temple, not a single monk has ever wandered beyond these mountains, nor has any preached the equality of all beings outside these walls. Do you hear me clearly?"

Yang Ning was taken aback.

"Countless monks and temples across the land roam the world preaching Buddhist teachings, but the Great Bright Temple is not among them," Jingneng said slowly. "You speak of the equality of all beings, but do you truly understand what that means? The doctrine of the Great Bright Temple is to cultivate one's own heart; we preach no such thing as the equality of all beings. Therefore, your rhetoric holds no weight here."

Yang Ning was shocked. He had always known Buddhism to champion the equality of all, and he had assumed the Great Bright Temple would be no different. To hear Jingneng declare this in front of everyone was deeply surprising.

"It is also temple law that disciples of the Kongming Pavilion do not need to queue for meals," Jingneng added. "If you wish to be like them, you need only enter the Kongming Pavilion, and you shall enjoy the same privilege. Everyone has the opportunity, but until you reach that status, you will queue here according to the rules. Do you understand?"

Yang Ning had intended to argue using the concept of equality, but the Great Bright Temple was so peculiar and dismissive of such notions that he found himself at a loss for words.

"Take him to the Disciplinary Hall!" Jingneng said, ending the discussion. He flicked his robe and turned to leave. Two monks stepped forward to seize Yang Ning.

Furious, Yang Ning sneered. Ignoring their approach, he stepped back and said coldly, "Who dares touch me?"

The two monks did not respond; they lunged at once, reaching for his shoulders. Having seen them move, Yang Ning knew they were skilled—far superior to the monks of the Wugu Hall like Zhenbi. Unwilling to be dragged to the Disciplinary Hall, Yang Ning snorted, stepped aside, and effortlessly dodged their grasp.

The two monks were startled, but they reacted quickly, splitting up to corner him again.

Yang Ning moved in a rhythmic pattern, sliding to the side with the "Carefree Steps." The monks missed again, their expressions darkening.

The surrounding monks mostly saw the two guards lunging back and forth, while Yang Ning appeared as a mere shadow, his footwork too swift to follow. The young monk Zhenming was astonished to see Yang Ning moving like a phantom, weaving through the guards like a butterfly among flowers.

All the monks present knew these two guards were Jingneng’s own disciples and highly skilled. To see them unable to even touch a corner of Yang Ning’s robe left everyone stunned. The Wugu Hall disciples, including Zhenbi, were particularly shocked, having assumed Yang Ning was just an ordinary boy.

They could not know that while Yang Ning’s martial arts were mediocre, he had mastered the "Carefree Steps" to such a degree that his movements were no longer stiff or awkward. Though not yet elegant as an immortal, he was remarkably capable. Being clever and intuitive, he had progressed from merely walking the steps blindly to observing his surroundings as he moved.

This footwork was unlike anything they had ever seen. Every time the guards thought they had him, Yang Ning would slip away by a mere hair's breadth.

Suddenly, a low shout rang out, followed by a sharp gust of wind that made it hard to breathe. Yang Ning slowed down, his eyes catching a dark cloud looming over him. Though startled, he remained calm and stepped to the left—only to find the "cloud" instantly shifted to block his path.

The speed of his opponent was far beyond his own. Before he could react, a palm struck his shoulder, sending him flying backward to land heavily on the ground.

Feeling nauseous and his internal energy in turmoil, he looked up to see Jingneng standing before him like a cloud, gazing down with a strange expression.

"What footwork is that?" Jingneng asked, frowning.

Yang Ning took a deep breath, waiting for the turbulence in his chest to subside, then sneered, "What, do I have to teach you the martial arts I’ve learned just because I entered the Great Bright Temple?"

Jingneng paused, then gave a cold laugh. "Take him away!"

As the two monks hoisted him up, Yang Ning remarked bitterly, "Your martial arts are truly impressive, Senior. To think you would personally deal with a nameless nobody like me—the Great Bright Temple is indeed the foremost temple in the world!"

He felt a deep resentment toward Jingneng. He knew that as the son of a Prince of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, these monks would not dare to truly harm him.

He had been grateful for their rescue, but after witnessing the behavior of the monks in the Wugu Hall—lacking in benevolence and confusing right from wrong—his regard for the Great Bright Temple had vanished.

At that moment, a series of urgent, rapid clangs rang out from the direction of the North Peak. It was the great bell.

Yang Ning was puzzled. The young monk Zhenming had told him the bell rang four times a day, with the fourth time signaling the end of the day. But it was only dusk; the sun had barely set. Why would they be calling for rest now?

He saw Jingneng’s expression change drastically. "To the Brightness Hall!" Jingneng commanded, ignoring Yang Ning and striding away. The two guards followed suit, leaving Yang Ning behind.

Not only Jingneng, but every monk present began rushing toward the North Peak.

Zhenming rushed over. "Brother Ning, are you alright?"

Yang Ning felt fine despite the blow. "Little Brother, what is happening?" he asked, watching the monks flood toward the North Peak like a tide. "Where is everyone going?"

"That bell is the signal to assemble the entire temple," Zhenming explained, frowning. "They are all heading to the Brightness Hall. It is a rare occurrence, only used for major events. Something must have happened. Come, Brother Ning, we must not be late."

Seeing even the Wugu Hall monks abandoning the dining hall, Yang Ning hesitated for a moment before following the crowd.

They traveled quickly, crossing a swaying suspension bridge that the monks traversed as if it were solid ground.

After a short while, they reached the Brightness Hall. It was the main hall of the temple—towering and magnificent. Two or three hundred monks were already gathered, standing on either side. Yang Ning stood in the back with Zhenming. The hall was so vast that it felt empty despite the hundreds present.

Under the great Buddha statue sat a row of thirteen golden cushions. Yang Ning realized these must be the seats of the "Thirteen Monks of Brightness." Only Jingneng sat on the far left, while the others remained empty.

He knew that ten of the Thirteen Monks were away at the capital conducting rituals for the late Emperor of Great Chu.

More monks continued to enter until four or five hundred were present, yet the hall remained perfectly silent.

Suddenly, another monk entered, followed by four others wearing yellow belts—the monks of the Kongming Pavilion. They seemed to hold a special status, as the others looked upon them with awe.

The lead monk, about sixty years old, wore robes of purple and yellow. He had a white beard, a kindly face, and a lean build, yet he walked with a light, steady step. As he approached, Jingneng stood, pressed his palms together, and said, "Brother Jingkong!"

Jingkong returned the gesture. "A distinguished guest has arrived. Abbot-Brother is in deep meditation and cannot leave, and the other brothers have yet to return. Today, you and I shall receive our guest."

His voice was resonant, carrying clearly through the silent hall. Yang Ning thought to himself that the guest must be someone of immense importance to warrant such a grand reception.

Jingkong sat on the first cushion to the left of the center, a position of obvious prestige.

"Welcome the distinguished guest from White Cloud Island of East Qi!" Jingkong announced, his voice ringing out like a bell.