Starting My Cultivation With Time Management-Chapter 901 - 41: Sandalwood Coffin Array
Chapter 901 -41: Sandalwood Coffin Array
Day one, studying Buddhist scriptures.
Day two, studying Buddhist scriptures.
Day three, observing water, observing water—what happened to the plan of seizing the Heaven-Mending Stone fragments? I can’t keep procrastinating!
Day four, studying Buddhist scriptures.
Of course, the scriptures he read weren’t orthodox teachings, but rather some amusing Buddhist anecdotes… Mainly because he was new here and needed to lower their guard. Hence, he couldn’t do anything else and had to stick to reading.
Bit by bit, even the monk guarding the Scriptural Repository grew familiar with him.
The monks in this temple were all peculiar. The novice monks looked relatively normal, but the adult monks typically had gaunt, lifeless visages, as if they’d been ruthlessly squeezed dry by excessive labor.
Ming Zhi had once indirectly inquired of the guard monk about this, but the monk merely laughed it off evasively. Evidently, this matter was indeed an unspeakable secret within Golden Cicada Temple.
It was just a small temple—how could it conceal so many secrets?
Ming Zhi chuckled inwardly but maintained an unruffled facade. After bidding the guard monk farewell, he left.
“Ah Jing, did you spot anything unusual?” On his way back to his room, Ming Zhi quietly asked Kunlun Mirror.
“Hmm,” Kunlun Mirror replied, “None of these monks exhibit any cultivation level.”
No cultivation level meant they were mere mortals.
Neither the monks guarding the Scriptural Repository, nor those passing by, nor even the aged abbot bore any trace of mana—they all seemed just like ordinary mortals.
Yet, even using my limited intellect, it’s obvious: If Golden Cicada Temple truly consisted solely of powerless monks and remained isolated from the outside world, it would’ve long been obliterated by the Hell Path’s brute force.
Something here… Ming Zhi narrowed his eyes.
This temple must conceal something terrifying enough that even Luo Daochang, the sect master with an immortal-level rank, dared not risk confronting it head-on and instead opted for covert infiltration and slow strategizing.
That being so, rushing into action was even less advisable.
The old monk had deliberately told me that no matter what, I mustn’t go to the rear hall. That kind of cryptic warning was clearly bait to lure me there—if the rear hall truly was forbidden territory, how could anyone expressly forbid access without giving a reason?
You could’ve made up some nonsense like saying it’s a memorial to predecessors of the temple with incense offerings—I wouldn’t have wasted effort barging in!
Maintaining an unaffected demeanor, he returned to his room and resumed studying Buddhist scriptures.
………
After several more days, Ming Zhi continued his stable rhythm of borrowing and reading books, as if genuinely absorbed in the study of Buddhism.
Suddenly, someone came by saying the abbot wished to see him.
Following the monk to the main hall, Ming Zhi saw the old monk standing in the center of the otherwise empty hall, smilingly asking:
“Master Ming Zhi has resided at our humble temple for some days now. Has there been anything lacking in our hospitality?”
“Amitabha.” Ming Zhi recited the invocation earnestly and said, “For a monk, a tranquil mind itself is cultivation. How could there be any concept of ‘lacking hospitality’?”
The old monk was briefly stunned, seemingly surprised that this outsider monk could genuinely voice such Buddhist wisdom. After a pause, he smiled and said:
“That’s good, that’s good.”
The two then exchanged a few pleasantries, and the distracted old monk eventually sent Ming Zhi on his way.
This outsider monk… Could he truly be here with the sole intent to study Buddhism?
No matter. If he hasn’t shown any interest in the rear hall, let him stay as long as he wishes—one more guest won’t strain the temple.
But if he harbors ulterior motives… hmph.
The old monk clasped his hands behind his back and departed, while Ming Zhi, upon returning to his quarters, immediately conferred with Kunlun Mirror:
“The time is ripe—we’ll investigate the rear hall tonight!”
“What makes you say?” Kunlun Mirror asked, puzzled. “How do you know the time is ripe?”
“In such exceedingly insular sects, they usually impose an observation period on new arrivals,” Ming Zhi replied confidently. “The observation period is over; they’ve found no anomalies yet are reluctant to make a definitive judgment, so they summoned me for a test.”
“I gave them a flawless answer that dispelled all suspicion, so they released me… Isn’t this the perfect chance to explore the rear hall?”
“Isn’t this all your subjective speculation?” Kunlun Mirror was tempted to retort but had grown weary of reading Buddhist scriptures lately, so it went along with the plan.
Having made up his mind, Ming Zhi asked Kunlun Mirror to cast an illusion technique on him to ensure absolute safety.
Then, under the cover of night, he left his quarters and stealthily moved toward the rear hall.
At the main hall, lights blazed brightly. A crowd of temple monks had gathered there for evening lessons—the resonant rhythmic tapping of wooden fish and the grand chant of sutras reverberated through the temple, evoking an ethereal and transcendental aura.
Good timing indeed… Ming Zhi thought to himself.
Arriving at the rear hall’s perimeter, he noticed the area was separated from the vicinity of the main hall by a long enclosing wall.
The wall, about ten feet high, was finely plastered and smooth, making it difficult for ordinary people to climb. For a cultivator, however, it posed no challenge.
After scanning and confirming the absence of formation traps, Ming Zhi easily vaulted over the wall, landing on the ground.
Hmm. There’s a strange smell in the air.
It’s like sandalwood incense… Sandalwood is commonly used in Buddhist temples to calm the mind, so that’s not surprising. But isn’t this scent overwhelmingly strong?
Is it perhaps intended to mask another odor?
Deep in thought, Ming Zhi followed the direction of the sandalwood aroma.
Before long, he reached the entrance of a grand hall.
The hall appeared unremarkable, devoid of any plaques, like an abandoned old building.
After confirming again that no traps were present, Ming Zhi stepped inside with a neutral expression.
In the next instant, his composed demeanor almost slipped.
Inside the hall were rows upon rows of sandalwood coffins. None were sealed shut. Within each coffin lay a corpse dressed in faded monk robes with smooth, bald heads—monks, without a doubt.
As Ming Zhi walked among the coffins, he was shocked to recognize many of the faces:
Whether the gatekeeper monk or the Scriptural Repository’s guard monk, their bodies were all there in these coffins.
Only the abbot’s body was missing. And there were no corpses of novice monks either…
On reflection, it made sense: If novice monks had all been murdered to assume their identities, then there couldn’t have been an exception.
Fixing his gaze on the coffins, Ming Zhi could confirm they were all magic artifacts designed for preservation and preventing decomposition.
Why slaughter every adult monk and store their bodies here, yet spare the children?
And as for the monks currently outside… What exactly are they?
