Chapter 426: Chapter 426

Indeed, it was a tripod! A fist-sized, three-legged tripod was placed on the tray. Hmm, can this even be called a tripod? It seems that ancient people used this kind of vessel for drinking and offering sacrifices to the sky.

So, this is the treasure of the occasion! It appeared unremarkable, but its rusty, spotted appearance clearly marked it as an ancient antique.

Jing Shu and her team looked on from not far away, still maintaining their vigilance. In secret, several sniper rifles were aimed at them. Snake Spirit had also sent his Little Tai Ban to deploy poison. It was a deadly gamble: either their bullets would fire first, or they would be poisoned to death before they could shoot.

But before the bet had ended, both sides were temporarily safe.

The Monk looked at the tripod with moist eyes, saluting the portly monk, "In my youth, I was reckless and arrogant, and lacked genuine devotion. I fled and thus allowed it to be lost outside..."

"Mage Yuantong, the wager from five years ago, would you once again debate with me on the Buddha’s self-sacrifice, offering the relic of that Buddha?"

So, the portly monk’s dharma name is Yuantong...

Seeing this, Mage Yuantong also pressed his palms together and gave a bow, "Jielu, the junior monk, has come today, surely having greatly advanced in his spiritual practice. If he is so inspired to seek the Anuttarā Samyaksaṃbodhi, he could burn a finger or even a toe to offer it to the Buddha Tower. This offering surpasses treasures of a kingdom, wives, and the mountains, forests, and pools of three thousand vast lands."

So, their own junior monk’s dharma name is Jielu.

After both sides had paid their respects, they sat down on the ground. Under the supervision of the host, they reinitiated the wager of five years prior, revealing Mage Yuantong’s hand, now missing two fingers.

Under the shocked expressions of Jing Shu and the others, oil was added to sustain the burning offering to Buddha. It resembled candles flickering in the dim twilight, accompanied occasionally by the popping sounds of burning fat. This spectacle made even the black spectators, who usually enjoyed the tumult, fall silent, scarcely believing this was Buddhist contention.

This is clearly self-mutilation!

Both monks pressed their hands together, watching as fingers dabbed with oil began to burn.

Jing Shu seemed to envision a scene from five years before: Mage Yuantong sitting in the temple practicing Sacrifice Body Burning Fat, while the junior monk Jielu fled in panic. Now, five years later, an enlightened Jielu had returned, vowing to recover the treasured tripod.

Jielu’s expression was one of sorrow yet resolve, with large sweat droplets falling, as he began to recite sutras, his brows furrowed, a look of agony on his face.

Mage Yuantong’s expression remained neither sorrowful nor joyful, "Without burning one’s body, arms, or fingers in offering to all Buddhas, one cannot be considered a monastic Bodhisattva." Chapters fırst released on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✦𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✦𝕟𝕖𝕥

"Mage Yuantong, the junior monk has come today to Sacrifice Body Burning Fat, merely to win one over you and retrieve what belongs to Huaxia," Jielu said.

Mage Yuantong shook his head, looking utterly unenlightened, "As a disciple of Buddha, one should burn their body, fingers, arms, and head as an offering to all Buddhas and the Buddha Tower. This is to eradicate sins of past lives and, in the future, to receive the highest of blessings."

"Yet the scripture clearly states that while it’s common to encourage offering one’s own body, what more of other external wealth! ... However, people enjoy witnessing this, which is indeed mundane. Offering one’s arm is certainly appropriate," Jielu gritted his teeth and said.

Jing Shu stroked her chin. Hmm... What are they saying? Can someone translate? Luckily, Lingling, the universal language interpreter, explained:

"Mage Yuantong approves the act of sacrificing the body by burning fat, believing that it can help high monks achieve enlightenment and eradicate sins. The Monk’s view is that if one wishes to emulate the deeds of the Bodhisattva through extreme ascetic practices, one must consider whether such actions would benefit oneself and others the most. He opposes such extreme acts. He came here only to prove himself and to win the bet, in order to retrieve the cauldron."

The two parties then engaged in a fierce debate about Buddhism. Their speech was profound and abstruse. It would have been incomprehensible to Jing Shu, a poor student, without Lingling’s explanations. Having traveled abroad, Jing Shu started to question her life. It was bad enough not understanding foreign languages; now, even her native language seemed alien.

Wait, there’s something slightly more serious. Jing Shu asked, "If this debate on Buddhism doesn’t end, with neither side admitting defeat... does that mean they will keep burning ?"

Initially, although shocked, she remained calm. Being a Doctor with a hundred Contribution Values, as long as they weren’t dead, she could still save them.

In her view, whether it was stabbing each other or using techniques like the Shaolin Lion Roar Skill, the copper sand palm, or Thousand Pounds, no one was supposed to die. But now, these two were playing a game of burning themselves, starting from their fingertips...

Yang Yang squinted his eyes and nodded, "So, we need to prepare for Plan B."

"I don’t know, maybe."

"One of them has to die, if not Yuantong then Jielu. Perhaps both will head to Nirvana."

Everyone fell silent. Merely watching from the side was agonizing—having to stare as their most diligent teammate, after they had shared several months, was now on the brink of being burnt alive. Jing Shu felt incredibly uneasy.

How long does it take to fully burn a person? Cremation fires, which are painless, take about an hour. But this... burning bit by bit, cell by cell turning to ash... The level-twelve pain, constantly feeling like thousands of arrows piercing his heart and obstructing his very being, must be the suffering the Monk is enduring.

Moreover, it’s the type where you have to watch yourself slowly losing your fingers, palms, arms...

In terms of pain, the young Monk must be suffering more than Mage Yuantong, because Yuantong’s intention was to head to Nirvana. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the blessings, his belief unwavering.

But the Monk’s original intention was resistance. He was being tortured alive. His mental agony and fear were even more intense than his physical suffering. Suddenly, she couldn’t fathom how the Monk had endured these past few days, or how much courage he had mustered to come to the United States.

To put it simply, compare the mental states of both: Mage Yuantong was sitting in the business class of a soon-to-crash plane, having bought insurance worth hundreds of millions. Even if the plane crashed and he died, he would receive several times the compensation. In contrast, the young Monk Jielu was in economy class of the same plane, without a penny of insurance... His only option was to pray for a safe landing.

That’s the power of mentality.

As time painfully dragged on, it was a torment for Jing Shu and the others, let alone the Monk, for whom every second of pain was excruciatingly elongated and amplified.

A finger quickly burned away. The officiant only added a little oil, slowing down the burning speed, allowing Buddhist disciples to offer more devoted relic offerings to the Buddha.

The eager spectators, mostly black people, gradually withdrew from this seemingly peaceful yet eerily quiet contest. They felt a terrifying chill; the Chinese were too terrifying.