Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Dream of Blossoms and the Bronze Hall

Amidst a vague and hazy dream, Leaf Hua did not know how much time had passed. He only felt as though he were walking through a sea of flowers, bathed in moonlight, with a gentle breeze stirring, jade-like petals shimmering, brilliant corollas intertwined, and snowy blossoms dazzling in the clear night. Ahead, there seemed to be a young maiden dressed in red, flitting in and out of sight, dancing within this crystalline palace and fragrant sea of snow, startling emerald birds into song and sending showers of petals swirling through the air. Waves of delicate fragrance drifted on the wind, seeping into his senses.

Just as Leaf Hua was about to call out, the maiden in red vanished again. He searched all around but saw only moonlight pooling on the ground, sparse stars overhead, and plum trees swaying without wind, their blossoms swirling like snow and mist. The newly bloomed plum blossoms loosened themselves from the branches, fluttering lightly on the breeze, spiraling downward, forming a colorful cascade as if the sky itself rained petals.

Beneath the moonlight, the scene was especially radiant and dazzling. After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the rain of flowers ceased and transformed into spring earth. Leaf Hua was entranced and spellbound, when suddenly, from beneath the trees, the maiden in red appeared once more—who could it be but Ling Yun’er!

Leaf Hua’s heart leapt with joy and he was about to call out, “Senior Sister Ling!” when, all at once, a young man clad in white appeared beside the maiden. Handsome and refined, he was none other than Xiao Yitian, the head of the Five Gentlemen of the Pure Cool Monastery at Middle Terrace, known as the Bamboo Sword. The two laughed together, speaking softly and intimately. Leaf Hua froze, struck by a wave of pain and bitterness.

In the midst of this heartache, the scene suddenly shifted, as if it were noon; the plum trees were filled with the chatter of emerald birds, the empty mountains silent except for the sound of springs and birdsong, nothing else stirring. Walking lightly, he saw the mountainsides blanketed in blooming plums, their sweet fragrance filling the air. Now and then a branch would tremble, sending a few blossoms drifting down and heightening the quiet beauty. Viewing plums by daylight had its own subtle charm, yet somehow, something was missing.

He had not gone far when he came upon an ancient plum tree, fallen and lying across the ground. Upon its boughs clung countless unopened buds, still kissed by morning dew and sunlight, as if unaware that their roots were severed, their life force fading, doomed to wither—yet still they vied for beauty, smiling in defiance.

Leaf Hua paused, about to examine them, when suddenly he heard someone calling his name. He listened closely, but could not tell where it came from; it seemed just in front of him, yet there was no one else in sight. Suddenly, there was a thunderous roar. Leaf Hua felt excruciating pain throughout his body, cried out, and opened his eyes.

All was a blur of red before him, as if he were somewhere unfamiliar, his whole body aching and burning. He heard faint chanting in his ears. He tried to rise, gritting his teeth, but an overwhelming force pinned him where he lay, leaving him unable to move. He had no choice but to rest for a time, until his vision gradually cleared.

He found himself inside a golden hall, divided into two levels. The upper level had six doors on each side, the lower level eight on each. The base of every door was decorated with cast images of flowers, pines, birds, and beasts—“Dragon and Tiger Locked in Combat,” “Dragon and Phoenix United,” “Magpies on Plum Branches,” “Jade Rabbit Salutes the Gourd”—each vivid and lifelike. The upper part of every door was adorned with intricate floral motifs, each unique and exquisitely crafted. The beams bore carvings of “Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl” and “Twin Phoenixes Facing the Sun,” both seemingly alive. Around the second level ran copper railings about a meter high, and all twenty-four doors bore different designs. At the corners stood bronze vessels shaped like dragons, dazzling and radiant.

At this, Leaf Hua’s heart trembled—he had a vague inkling—and strained to look toward the center of the hall. There, as expected, stood a bronze statue of Manjushri seated on a lion, three feet tall, beautifully wrought. The walls were lined with myriad small bronze Buddhas, numbering in the tens of thousands.

Each image seemed to be chanting sutras, sending threads of faint golden light into his body. Countless mystical talismans also shimmered and drifted in the air, slowly merging into him. Leaf Hua was astonished by this strange scene and tried to call out, but a sudden, splitting pain seized his mind, and he fainted away.

Outside the hall, two elderly monks sat as if aware of the situation within, but paid it no heed. From time to time, they performed intricate mudras, sweat beading on their foreheads, as if the task taxed them greatly. It was a long while before they slowly opened their eyes. One monk wiped his brow and smiled, “Thank you, Brother Rujing, for lending your aid and invoking the power of the Bronze Hall to save him.”

The other monk sighed, “Brother Ruci, even though this disciple performed a deed of great merit, I fear he is hardly qualified to be saved by the Bronze Hall’s purification! Even the direct disciples of the Grand Elder here at Great Comfort Lingjiu Temple have no such fortune, let alone the other branches of Mount Wutai.”

Ruci nodded, “Brother, this disciple risked his life to slay demons and save a fellow disciple. The message we received described an act of self-sacrifice akin to the ancient saints who cut flesh for others. The matter has been decided—do not question it further.”

Rujing could only nod and recite a Buddhist verse, and together they left. Ruci entered the hall, lifted Leaf Hua, and slowly carried him away.

When Leaf Hua awoke again, the world was bright. He looked around and saw he was lying in a Buddha hall. Before him sat a monk in yellow robes, his face aged but smiling kindly at him.

Leaf Hua started, wishing to rise, but his body was wracked with pain and utterly devoid of strength. Looking at the old monk, he stammered, “Master, where am I? How did I come to be here?”

The monk stood and smiled gently, “This is the Hall of Immeasurability at Great Comfort Lingjiu Temple. You were gravely injured in battle with the practitioners of Yingzhou, and I saved you here.”

At that, Leaf Hua recalled going to Jade Elephant Gorge to gather the rare orchid for Senior Sister Ling, meeting Li Ruolan and Li Ningyue contending with a black-robed elder, blocking the Asura Pearl, and thereafter wandering through a sea of flowers and a golden hall—yet all was now a blur.

Panic seized him. “The Hall of Immeasurability? Then this master must be my grand-uncle!” he thought. “But what of Li Ruolan, Li Ningyue, and that lady surnamed Tang? Are they safe? Surely they must be by now. If my master learns of my reckless actions, how will he punish me!” He tried to rise.

The old monk said, “Do not move rashly. You have been unconscious for more than ten days. Now that you are awake and your wounds have healed, you must rest a few days more. I will inform Brother Zhiku of North Terrace myself.”

Leaf Hua inwardly despaired. “Ten days? Then I must have missed the Chanlin Assembly! What a disaster! Brother? Then he really is my grand-uncle…”

Leaf Hua lay down again and said, “Thank you, Grandmaster, for saving my life!” The old monk, sensing his thoughts, nodded, “You have much to be thanked for. Without your help at the end, Emperor Ziyuan’s thousand-mile message would have failed. The Sun-Moon Divine Alliance sent word to our Mount Wutai lineage—this matter is of great importance.”

Leaf Hua felt the names Emperor Ziyuan and the Sun-Moon Divine Alliance were somehow familiar, but he dared not interrupt, and listened quietly. The old monk continued, “You and the female disciples of Nanchan and Longquan temples have rendered great service. Your master will not punish you; on the contrary, you will be commended.”

Leaf Hua replied humbly, “I dare not imagine such a thing!” The old monk regarded him, saying, “Your meridians and vital energy were gravely damaged, but Patriarch Rujing of the Bodhidharma Hall personally used the Bronze Hall to cleanse and restore your body. Now that you are awake, you must rest and recover. I will visit again in a few days.”

Leaf Hua was both amazed and delighted. “Thank you, Grandmaster, for your benevolence!” The old monk said no more and left. Leaf Hua lay on his bed, thinking of all the wondrous tales about the Bronze Hall.

A thousand years ago, the eminent monk Miaofeng of Mount Wutai gathered alms from thirteen provinces of China and cast the hall from a hundred thousand catties of golden bronze. Miaofeng made three such halls: one at Putuo, one at Emei, and one at Mount Wutai. The first two were lost; only the one at Great Comfort Lingjiu Temple remained.

Thinking on this, Leaf Hua’s heart filled with awe. He looked within, and found his meridians were now broader and tougher than before, a faint Buddhist radiance coursing through him, and his dantian was more substantial than ever. Leaf Hua silently praised his fortune. The old monk exited the Hall of Immeasurability and made his way to the Elders’ Court.

Along the way, young monks bowed and greeted him, “Grandmaster Ruci!” The old monk smiled in reply and entered the Elders’ Court, where the air was thick with incense and dozens of old monks sat upon mats, apparently deep in discussion.

The head monk broke off and addressed him, “Brother Ruci, has the injured disciple from North Terrace improved?” Ruci bowed, “Brother Ruku, the disciple has just awakened.” Elder Ruku was surprised, “With injuries nearly severing his meridians, how could he recover so quickly?”

Ruci replied, “Have you forgotten, Brother? Brother Rujing of the Bodhidharma Hall used the power of the Bronze Hall to cleanse and restore him. However…” A short, thin monk beside him interjected, “However what? Speak freely, Brother Ruci!” “Brother Rubei, besides practicing the Suffering Holy Truth, that disciple must have trained in other arts—not monk, nor Daoist, nor demonic, but something extraordinary and rare. Though only at the Seven Treasures Stage, his meridians are robust, far surpassing his peers; even when gravely wounded, his recovery is remarkable. I consulted Brother Rumie of the Shiyuan Hall, whose knowledge is vast, and even he has never seen such a thing. He said it might resemble the Thunder Sect of the Western Regions a millennium ago, or perhaps the Primordial Sect, but none fit exactly. It is a mystery.”

Ruku nodded, “Our order has taken in many disciples skilled in various arts; this is not so unusual. Enough, Brother Ruci, take your seat and let us discuss the matter of Yingzhou.” “Yes, Brother Ruku!” Ruci sat at a lower mat.

Ruku looked around and continued, “Emperor Ziyuan’s Sun-Moon Divine Alliance has deep roots in Yingzhou. Decades ago, after Prince Fengchen Xiu defeated the sixty-seven nations and two hundred fourteen clans of the Four Domains, his ambition grew ever greater. Now, with King Dejia defeating Prince Fengchen Xiu, he covets our Eastern Divine Land, and will soon invade Cold City. As the saying goes, if the lips perish, the teeth grow cold—so we in the East must be vigilant. This time, Brothers Rujing of the Bodhidharma Hall and Rugang of the Precepts Hall will lead, joined by Brothers Rude, Ruding, Ruguang, and Ruzhen, along with a hundred elders of the ‘Zhi’ generation and the victors of the Chanlin Assembly. On the ninth day of the next month, they will set out for Putuo’s Kalan Mountain by the East Sea to meet Master Taixu and plan our common defense.”

An elderly monk seated at Ruku’s right rose and said, “Brother, your words are wise. We will prepare at once.” Ruku nodded, “So it is settled. Brother Rujing, after the war with Liao, our Mount Wutai has already lost many disciples. We must be especially cautious this time! The factions of the capital are many, and cultivators abound. Who knows whom the Sage-Emperor Hualuo will send to resist them?”