Chapter 22: Buddha's Heart

Zhao Qian is no mere damsel in distress. Naturally, she has ways to counter this type of sorcery. As she picked up the paper charm and began silently chanting, she effortlessly separated the paper effigy from the spell.

"That person is so wicked, he made me bump my head!" Yu Xiaoxue said, sounding angry and unhappy as she rubbed her forehead.

Only then did I remember Yu Xiaoxue was sitting behind us. I quickly checked her injury and found it hadn't swollen; a little rubbing would soothe it.

What had been a pleasant trip was now marred by this incident. Zhao Qian had been crying, and she had grown quiet. I felt this person deserved a lesson.

The Zhao family’s ancestral estate was vast, more like a resort compound. The layout of the surrounding trees likely followed specific principles; after all, they were a family of Feng Shui masters. It was clearly no simple matter, though I lacked the knowledge to understand it.

Come to think of it, the elder Mr. Zhao was quite the wealthy landowner. Turning the ancestral home into a vacation retreat for rest and recuperation was no difficult task.

The parking lot outside the estate was already filling up with cars, mostly luxury vehicles worth three to five hundred thousand yuan. It seemed the guests arriving today were either wealthy or influential.

Zhao He was waiting anxiously for us at the gate. It appeared Zhao Yi had already told him about the obstacles he had tried to place in our path.

"If our second uncle wasn't there, I would have beaten that kid up just now! He’s so damn sinister!" Zhao He cursed.

"It’s all thanks to Brother Tian, otherwise I would have been in real trouble. I don't know where he got my hair, but he tied it to a paper effigy with my birth date on it, along with that spell. He wanted me to be plagued by misfortune at every moment."

The paper charm had been glued directly to the ground. With cars coming and going, it was effectively like being trampled by thousands of people. Once bound with a "malicious curse," it would escalate to the point where the victim would trip while walking, eventually leading to car accidents or other fatal misfortunes—it was truly vicious.

"A person like that will face retribution, right, Brother Tian?" Yu Xiaoxue said, waving her small fist.

I nodded and looked at Zhao Qian. She happened to meet my gaze, and she blushed, looking touched; I had saved her life once again.

"That damn old beast! To lay such a cruel hand on his own niece—I'm going to go have a word with him!" Zhao He, unable to contain his rage, rolled up his sleeves to confront Zhao Zhou, but Zhao Qian pulled him back.

"Brother, if you go reason with him, he won't admit to anything. It was the same last time. If he complains to Grandmother, we’ll be the ones painted as the villains." Zhao Qian sounded anxious. Her brother’s mind worked in straight lines; how could he possibly outmaneuver someone so cunning?

"I can't just let him get away with it!" Zhao He gritted his teeth, the sound clearly audible.

"Forget it. Dad is probably already waiting for us. Let's take things one step at a time. At least he didn't actually succeed in harming me." Zhao Qian was remarkably good-tempered, though she knew well that such insidious curses were nothing to take lightly.

I led Yu Xiaoxue behind the siblings as we reached the ancestral hall at the back of the estate.

It was truly a grand family; the hall was massive, covering at least two hundred square meters and stretching over ten meters long from what I could see.

The Zhao family didn't restrict outsiders from entering, so the hall was quite full, with dozens, perhaps over a hundred people present, including many great-grandchildren running wild.

The elder Mr. Zhao was likely in the inner sanctum burning incense, so the crowd was divided into factions. The followers of the eldest son, Zhao Xi, gathered in one group; those of the second son, Zhao Zhou, in another; and the third daughter, Zhao Yuan’s group stood elsewhere. The lines were clearly drawn. Since not everyone had arrived yet, they didn't exchange greetings, resulting in a tense standoff reminiscent of the Three Kingdoms period.

Zhao He led us to the faction on the left.

A pale, thin man in his fifties stood beside several Taoist priests. The rest were relatives from Zhao Qian’s mother’s side. Her mother was a high-ranking official in the county government; although she hadn't come to avoid any appearance of impropriety, Zhao Qian's uncles were there to hold the line.

"Dad!" Zhao Qian and Zhao He greeted Zhao Xi.

"Hmm." Zhao Xi nodded. He glanced at me and Yu Xiaoxue behind Zhao Qian and realized we hadn't managed to bring the mystic Madame Zhou. A look of slight disappointment crossed his face. "You couldn't bring Elder Zhou?"

"No, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but..." Zhao Qian bit her lip, wanting to introduce me and Yu Xiaoxue to her father.

"Never mind if you couldn't. Elder Zhou doesn't intervene easily." Zhao Xi waved his hand dismissively. "These must be Zhao He and Zhao Qian’s friends? Go ahead and sit. I have things to discuss with the Taoist masters and won't have time to attend to you."

"Dad! He..." Zhao Qian started to protest, but I stopped her.

"Not at all, Mr. Zhao. Please, attend to your business." I replied politely. I couldn't blame Zhao Xi; we were essentially just here to watch the show. He was being quite polite considering the circumstances, and expecting VIP treatment would have been ungracious on our part.

I glanced at the Taoist priests in their yellow robes. I couldn't tell which sect they belonged to, as they hadn't shown their skills, and they didn't even bother to look at us.

Seeing their father treat their friends with such indifference, Zhao Qian and Zhao He looked embarrassed. Of course, Zhao Qian fared much better with her father than Zhao He; if he had brought friends on his own, Zhao Xi likely wouldn't have acknowledged them at all.

The ancestral hall was set with many tables filled with cold dishes like spiced beef and cashews with pork tongue for the guests. Yu Xiaoxue, being young and overlooked, couldn't get a word in, so she simply tucked into the food.

"I'm sorry. My dad is usually quite nice, but he hasn't been feeling well lately, so he's in a bad mood," Zhao Qian explained to me.

"It's fine. I'm not here to help anyway," I said with a smile, picking up my chopsticks to eat some cashews and spiced beef.

Zhao Qian didn't know what to say, so she looked at her brother. Zhao He looked at me, stroked his chin, and sighed.

After a long pause, he blurted out, "Brother Tian, shall we... have some hard liquor?"

"Brother, that wouldn't be appropriate!" Zhao Qian immediately tried to stop him.

"It's fine, let's have some," I said decisively.

Zhao He immediately went to fetch two bottles of Jinliufu and filled a glass for me.

The other families weren't paying us any attention. Zhao Yi was busy chatting with his cronies, so we started drinking. Zhao Qian and Yu Xiaoxue were left sitting there, bored.

Before long, most of the guests had arrived. The elder Mr. Zhao was wheeled out from the inner sanctum. He was skin and bones, covered in age spots, and still hooked up to an IV drip. He couldn't even speak; it seemed he might pass away at any moment.

I glanced at the old man but saw no signs of a malevolent spirit clinging to him. It seemed the spirit was hiding because of the crowd and the protective nature of the ancestral hall. The ritual would likely have to begin with summoning the ghost, or there would be no way to deal with it.

Zhao’s grandmother had a sharp, imposing air—she must have been a formidable matriarch in her youth. She pushed the wheelchair and scanned the three families with a furrowed brow.

"Zhao Xi, Zhao Zhou, Zhao Yuan, you’ve all seen it. Your father has been reduced to this by that *thing*. Now is the time for you to save his life. Who will go first?" The grandmother spoke with great authority, getting straight to the point.

The leaders of the three families immediately became restless. Everyone was confident they could save him, as they had all spent vast sums of money and pulled strings to bring in high-level experts. Whoever saved their father first would likely gain the upper hand in the family.

"Mother, I am the eldest. Let me go first. I have brought Master Canyun of the Three Immortals Temple and his disciples. They specialize in exorcising malicious spirits. If they fail, then Second Brother and Third Sister can try." Zhao Xi used his status as the eldest to press the others; he had always been this way—never willing to yield.

Zhao Zhou let out a cold, mocking laugh but didn't argue. He simply exchanged a look with the seventy- or eighty-year-old man standing beside him. The old man remained calm and imposing, signaling Zhao Zhou to stay patient, followed by a mysterious smile.

The grandmother looked at the old man with Zhao Zhou and broke into a delighted smile, actually nodding at him as if they were acquainted. It seemed this man’s identity was far from simple.

"Eldest Brother, what backwater place is the Three Immortals Temple from? Don't blame your little sister for not knowing, living in the city. How much did you even pay? My husband has donated over a million in incense money to the Pingtian Temple and had to ask several times to invite Abbot Jishi here. Since Father is in such a state, let Abbot Jishi take a look first, to avoid having some third-rate charlatan mess him up even further." The third daughter, Zhao Yuan, was not having it. Why should she yield? Her husband was a man who navigated both the legal and underworld circles in the city—he had money, and he was willful!

The man she brought was Abbot Jishi. Look at his demeanor! Could those poor Taoists from the Three Immortals Temple even compare?

And indeed, when I looked toward Abbot Jishi, he certainly had the look of a master: wearing grand red vestments, holding a dragon-headed staff in his right hand, and a mahogany alms bowl in his left. These were expensive goods! If one didn't know better, they would think they were filming a new version of *Journey to the West*.

Moreover, Jishi had brought a dozen followers. Even Tripitaka only had three disciples, but with this display, one wouldn't dare challenge him to a fight, let alone a magical duel.

Abbot Jishi was in his sixties or seventies, with a kind and benevolent face that made anyone feel at ease. He stepped forward and shook his head gently, saying to Zhao Yuan, "Patron, do not speak recklessly. Bodhidharma once said: 'Do not seek Buddha outside; Buddha is within the heart.' The incense money you donated did not invite me, Jishi; it only invited the Buddha-heart."

The grandmother was a devout Buddhist. Upon hearing the Abbot speak of the "Buddha-heart," she felt he must truly be an enlightened monk, and she beamed with joy. Look at that! Just a few words, and his class was evident. This one would surely succeed.

Zhao Yuan, however, was stunned by his remark. She stared blankly and said, "No, I mean, Abbot, you are on my side. My husband paid a huge amount of money. I don't know anything about 'Buddha-heart' or whatever. Since we paid so much, can you just tell me if you can handle this or not?"

The grandmother frowned. Why was her third daughter so tactless?

"Everyone is originally a Buddha, but we become mortals through delusion. The Buddha-heart is the process of breaking through delusion to find our true nature. Patron, evil does not come from without; it is born from the mind. When the true Dharma arises in the heart, evil departs on its own," the Abbot explained, sensing her confusion.

Zhao Yuan still didn't understand. Her eyes were fixed only on the money. Hearing this, she thought the old monk couldn't do the job and immediately snapped, "Can you handle it?"

"I... I can handle it!" The Abbot’s face twitched. He had never met someone so uncultured. Was it easy for him to say all that, and this was all she took away from it?

"Brother Tian, I understood that part. He said he can handle it," Yu Xiaoxue said, chewing on her spiced beef.

Zhao Qian, sitting beside me, burst into laughter upon hearing this. I choked on the liquor I had just swallowed and sprayed it out, left speechless. *Sigh, poor monk. He chose the wrong audience to act profound in front of.*