Chapter 181 — The Wordless Jade Wall

Fa Cheng, careful as ever, marked the changes in Mingli's expression, but only smiled and led the way without a word. As for the tall, burly monk Fa Jing, who followed behind them, he was ever silent and dour, and likewise said nothing.

The three went on along the mountain road another half hour, winding through the high peaks and steep ridges, until unawares they had left Brahma Voice Temple far behind and could see it no more. Mingli had not expected the mountain range behind the temple to be so much vaster than he had imagined. He saw layered peaks of emerald, and the mountain wind came gently; along the way there were strange crags jutting out in a thousand queer shapes, and sheer cliffs with waterfalls plunging from the sky, roaring like belts of jade.

Walking this road, he felt his heart and breast open wide, and gazing on the fine scenery near and far, he did not feel bored at all.

Suddenly he heard Fa Cheng ahead say, "We are nearly there."

Mingli started and looked ahead, but saw only the mountain path still winding on, dense forest on one side, weeds and thorns on the other, and three chi beyond, a sheer cliff. Where was the Wordless Jade Wall more than seven zhang high that they had spoken of?

"May I ask, senior brother, where is this jade wall?"

Fa Cheng smiled, stepped forward a few paces to the edge of the cliff, and said over his shoulder, "It is here."

Mingli came to his side and stood upon the cliff, gazing out. Below the cliff the mist was thick, rolling like waves, surging without cease, as though it were a valley. In the distance he could faintly make out blurred shapes of mountains, but all very far away.

Mingli pondered, then turned to Fa Cheng and said, "Is it down in this valley?"

Fa Cheng laughed. "It is beneath our very feet."

Mingli was startled; Fa Cheng had already said with a smile, "Let us go down," and leaped off. Fa Jing followed at once. Mingli stood on the cliff, hesitated a moment, then leaped as well.

Shi Po glimmered with a dark blue light amid the mist, slowly enfolding Mingli, sheltering him as he descended.

The mist here seemed strange, thick and yet not thick, coiling together like tangled silk; though the mountain wind blew, it did not scatter in the least. As he fell, Mingli peered at the cliff face, but saw only a sheet of white mist, and could make nothing out.

Astonished, he urged Shi Po and drew closer to the cliff, and saw the mist part like cloud layers, sliding away to either side before his eyes. Just as he was concentrating, all at once he saw a human figure emerge before him.

Mingli's heart jolted; he hastily checked his descent and peered close, and his shock was redoubled, for there before him stood, plain as day, a Mingli identical to himself, staring back at him with a look of astonishment.

The figure's gaze was deep, and his face bore the marks of vicissitude; in his hand he likewise held a Shi Po demon staff. As Mingli stood stunned, suddenly a chant of Buddhist praise came as if from beyond the heavens, heavy as a deep bell and great drum, echoing sharply at his ear.

With that chant, a solemn power surged in an instant from the nameless place beneath his feet, rushing skyward like a vast flood pouring through the heavens, and the mist around them rolled in at once and swallowed the figure, and it vanished. Mingli felt a pain in his heart, and the cold qi within his body stirred of itself, unprompted, as if in extreme rejection of this Buddhist aura, resisting on its own.

In his amazement, Mingli felt that besides the demonic power of the Blood-Devouring Bead stirring restlessly within him, the Great Brahma Prajna of his own cultivation, affected by the Buddhist aura of this place, was unwilling to yield and likewise leaped up, as though bent on a contest of strength with the demonic power of the Blood-Devouring Bead.

Before anything had even begun, such a vast change had come over his own body; the earth-qi of this place was truly beyond comprehension. Mingli was shaken, and for a moment forgot the strange figure he had seen in the mist, and only urged his own cultivation to guard his heart meridian as he slowly descended.

Soon the mist thinned, and the ground below grew clear: a small stone platform, quite smooth, some three zhang across, with sparse trees around it, and upon it sat several dozen monks of Brahma Voice Temple. Their seats seemed near or far, without rule or order, yet within them lay a hidden principle, and a faint Buddhist power flowed through them, forming as it were an array.

Mingli looked closely a few more times, and suddenly it seemed familiar; he thought a while, and recalled that it was the shape of an ancient, clumsy script, the appearance of a Buddhist true word.

Mingli soon touched the ground and looked about. Fa Cheng and Fa Jing were by now seated among the monks, palms pressed together in silence, eyes downcast, and they looked at him no more. At the head of the monks sat Master Pucheng, Abbot of Brahma Voice Temple; to his left below him sat one Mingli had seen before, the Divine Monk Pufang, who had unleashed such power that day on Canglan Mountain. But the monk seated to Pucheng's right below him looked rather odd, and Mingli had never seen him before. His face was withered, his complexion sallow and yellow, as though he bore the hue of a dying man, and his aged look far surpassed Master Pucheng's. Mingli did not know who he was, but to sit on equal footing with the two great divine monks Pucheng and Pufang, he was clearly no ordinary figure in Brahma Voice Temple.

Mingli said no more, but bowed his head in salute to Master Pucheng. The Abbot pressed his palms together in return and said with a smile, "The young benefactor has come."

Mingli nodded and said, "Yes. But may I ask what the Abbot would have me do?"

Master Pucheng pointed to the platform and said, "Nothing else. The young benefactor need only sit calmly upon that stone platform, regulate his breath and quiet his heart, and sit for a few days."

Mingli nodded, glanced back at the stone platform, then raised his head and looked around. Above was only thick mist; where was the legendary Wordless Jade Wall? He could not help asking, "Pray tell, Abbot, where is the Wordless Jade Wall?"

Master Pucheng smiled. "In a little while, the young benefactor will see it."

Ming Li started, nodded, and turned to take his seat on the stone platform, when all at once a shrill cry came faintly from the sky—wind, or the howl of some beast—piercing cloud and mist. Then a beam of dazzling radiance tore a rift through the dense fog and shot down, falling full upon Ming Li.

Ming Li fell back a step and looked up. Within the valley a strange rumbling rose, like rolling thunder, and the sea of dense fog suddenly heaved into waves, surging from a gentle drift into great billows. More and more fissures opened; the fog thinned, and beam upon beam, ray upon ray of radiance broke through.

Facing this prodigy of heaven and earth, Ming Li gazed a long while, until at last the fog scattered and the radiance poured down. In an instant all the world was a blaze of light so dazzling that no one could keep his eyes open. Only after a time did it slowly soften.

When Ming Li opened his eyes again, his body gave a jolt—he had caught sight of the legendary Wordless Jade Wall.

There before him, behind that little stone platform and beneath the broken cliff, a sheer wall hung like a mirror, dropping straight down, more than seven zhang high and four zhang wide. Its substance seemed jade and yet not jade, its surface incomparably smooth, mirroring the fair sights of sky and earth, the ranges near and far—all of it held within that jade wall. And Ming Li and the monks of Brahma Voice Temple beneath that precipice were no more than ants, utterly insignificant.

Beside the handiwork of heaven and earth, how small a thing is man!