"How bold! To spout such nonsense in a sacred Buddhist site! Do you know the price of speaking recklessly here?"
The eminent monk swung his arm grandly, his luxurious kasaya flaring with the motion, his posture haughty. Yet his gaze no longer dared to meet Yuan Kong's eyes, settling instead on his nose.
This man was uncanny—not quite admitting defeat.
"What price? Does this eminent monk intend to cut out my tongue?" Yuan Kong's smile remained unbroken as he retorted, "Then I must say, this place seems less like a sacred Buddhist site and more like a hell on earth."
The monk was left speechless, his finger pointing accusingly at Yuan Kong, mouth opening and closing without sound.
But before the monk could speak, Yuan Kong's smile faded. He had no intention of wasting further words on this man—a dull thud was all one could expect from striking rotten wood. His tone turned solemn:
"Nan Kong, the Buddha's Child, has come to seek wisdom. Go and announce me. Spare me your prattle."
As Buddha's Children were rare, each was registered in the Central Continent—though not under their monastic name during cultivation.
The Central Continent bestowed upon them a new Buddhist title, for to be called a Buddha's Child was to sit upon the Buddha's throne.
This was a decision made from effect to cause.
The Buddha's Child's title was not only recorded in the Central Continent but also disseminated among orthodox Buddhist temples across the land, allowing them to reveal it when necessary to seek aid.
Originally, a token would serve as proof, but Yuan Kong had not brought his. Thus, he had no choice but to reveal his title.
Though certain circumstances had left him without a place in the Central Continent's Buddhist order, it did not strip him of his status as a Buddha's Child.
The Buddhist order was vast—it would not risk tarnishing its reputation over a single exception, lest it be seen as worldly and opportunistic.
Yuan Kong still enjoyed the privileges of a Buddha's Child. The Central Continent's Buddhist order could sustain him, even provide for him—it cost little and posed no trouble, though they would not invest in his cultivation.
Yuan Jing believed that even if one could not cultivate the body, one could still cultivate the Buddha within.
To surrender him to the Central Continent would be to ruin Yuan Kong. Even if he could not become a Buddha, he should at least become a decent man.
Whether in the Central Continent or Zen Forest Temple, he would be cared for.
The eminent monk's eyes widened as he took in Yuan Kong's beggarly appearance. Yet when he saw the man's mudra and the calm in his gaze, something inexplicable made him perceive a trace of the Buddha's likeness beneath the ragged exterior.
He dared not say more, first waving off the surrounding novices who had begun gathering to lend their aid.
Clasping his hands together, the monk bowed humbly. "Please wait here."
With that, he turned and hurried away, though his steps were unsteady, his movements awkward.
Yuan Kong watched the so-called eminent monk flee in disarray, his expression unreadable.
He felt no disappointment that the Righteous Sound Temple could produce such a monk—if anything, he had expected little from the start.
Long before stepping into this temple, Yuan Kong had already seen the truth.
This so-called sacred site was a den of filth, its people as divided and twisted as demons.
Chanting Buddha's name with their lips, nurturing demons in their hearts.
Yuan Kong's eyes saw too clearly—a gift that often brought disillusionment.
The reply came swiftly.
The one who came to greet him was not the same eminent monk.
A robust Arhat with piercing eyes, a Nascent Soul cultivator, strode forward. With a single glance at Yuan Kong, he confirmed the beggar-like figure before him was indeed the Buddha's Child—no token was needed.
The purity of Yuan Kong's Buddhist essence shone through his ragged exterior, so bright it nearly dazzled the Arhat's eyes.
Yet this radiance was visible only to those who walked the Buddhist path.
This was not the Arhat's first encounter with a Buddha's Child, but one so untainted was exceedingly rare.
Before arriving, he had checked the records and recognized this as the Buddha's Child who could not cultivate, left behind in the Southern Continent.
Yet now, Yuan Kong stood before him at the Foundation Establishment stage, carrying traces of both divine will and the aura of a Bodhisattva.
Strange... yet not so strange after all.
As long as he was a Buddha's Child, nothing else mattered.
A sincere smile touched the Arhat's lips as he spoke:
"Nan Kong, Buddha's Child, you already bear the Buddha's likeness. Our neglect was inexcusable."
Yuan Kong met the Arhat's gaze before clasping his hands in return. "I impose upon you. I have come to seek the Dharma."
The Nascent Soul Arhat bowed deeply to the Foundation Establishment Yuan Kong.
"Please, follow me."
Passing through the gates, they walked a path lined with pagodas and Buddhist structures of varied designs.
With a mere glance, Yuan Kong counted no fewer than several Grand Halls.
Yet the deeper they went, the simpler the architecture and sculptures became, shedding the extravagance of the outer courtyards.
At last, the Arhat halted before an aged temple—if it could even be called one, for only this building was enclosed by a low wall.
The entrance bore no adornments. The old wooden doors, their paint peeling, stood slightly ajar.
The only new feature was the plaque above the gate, its calligraphy precise, imbued with the pure essence of Buddhist orthodoxy:
Righteous Sound Temple.
The Arhat paused deliberately, as if aware of Yuan Kong's earlier exchange with the monk. He spoke pointedly:
"Only by stepping through this gate does one truly enter the True Sound Dharma Temple. Outside these doors are merely worldly novices, their wisdom and perception clouded."
The words served as both an explanation and a gesture of goodwill.
Yuan Kong chuckled softly and nodded, asking with apparent curiosity:
"So the Buddha's voice in the True Sound Dharma Temple is confined to this tiny courtyard? Beyond these low walls, there is no sound at all?"
The Arhat gazed at Yuan Kong, pausing briefly before replying, his tone still respectful:
"The Thunderclap Pure Land is vast, yet compared to the mortal world, it is but a speck. The Buddha's voice is mighty, but to those unwilling to listen, it becomes faint as a whisper."
"Just as the True Sound Dharma Temple—seemingly grand, yet also small. Those truly earnest in their devotion would never linger outside, putting on empty displays."
"Hearing is not a matter of how loud the Dharma Temple's voice is, but whether one is willing to listen."
"Nan Kong, as a Buddha's disciple, would you not agree?"
A smile touched Yuan Kong's lips as he nodded in acknowledgment.
Seeing this, the Arhat felt a flicker of pride—until suddenly, he noticed Yuan Kong's lips part as if to speak, only to close again without a sound.
Then Yuan Kong's eyes sharpened, silently challenging him: You claim to listen attentively—so what did I just say?
The Arhat's expression stiffened, his smile fading.
Yuan Kong said nothing more on the matter, instead speaking plainly:
"May I trouble the Arhat to guide me further? Am I free to roam the temple at will, or will you continue escorting me?"
The Arhat pressed his palms together and bowed. "You are a Buddha's disciple. The choice is yours."
With a slight nod, Yuan Kong stepped through the temple gate without hesitation, walking alone into the courtyard.
The Arhat remained where he stood, watching Yuan Kong's retreating figure with calm eyes before turning his gaze behind him—to the mortal novice draped in kasaya robes, standing devoutly beneath the Buddha statue.
The novice chanted sutras with measured reverence.
His voice was loud, yet devoid of the Buddha's essence.
The Arhat felt no anger. Though rebuked, he harbored no ill will toward Yuan Kong—perhaps out of deference to his status as a Buddha's disciple, or perhaps because Yuan Kong's words held truth.
Yet... this had nothing to do with him.
As for Yuan Kong, the True Sound Dharma Temple was open to him entirely. There was nothing here he could not see.
After all, a Buddha's disciple belongs to the Dharma.