Chapter 2: The Landscape of Lingjiu Mountain
Mr. Mu had somehow managed to get ahead, his eyes shining brightly as he intently focused on the painting, completely devoid of his previous listless demeanor, which greatly surprised Mo Can.
Hmph, not necessarily, a sharp voice emerged from the crowd, "The emperor has issued a new decree from the White Hall, who is holding the old clothes in front of the hall? Who can understand the difficulty of turning the heart? To this day, the Dian River does not flow eastward!" The old monk's meaning is self-evident
Mo Can's gaze glanced away, and Mr. Mu in the corner was sound asleep with his eyes closed
The sky is shattered, the earth is broken, to take it as a burden is to miss the point, with a severed tongue, who dares to sit? Twenty characters, lean and vigorous, present themselves before the crowd
The coroner hesitated for a moment: "It resembles a nine-inch iron fan rib"
At this moment, an elderly coroner stepped forward and said: "My lord, after examination, it has been determined that the monk from the scripture repository died from a blade piercing his chest. A one-foot-five-inch long short knife was left at the scene as the murder weapon. That bearded man was ambushed and died from a poisoned dart that struck him from behind."
"Who is it, what does '娘娘腔' really mean?" The rude man called out impatiently again.
Indeed, this statement is reasonable. The people in the hall began to discuss it one after another.
"Hmm," Li Suizhi pondered, "The ritual yesterday has concluded; how many guests stayed overnight at the temple?"
Since Lord Li has said so, if I, the old monk, were to insist further, it would seem disrespectful to the Temple of Gantong. Please wait a moment, I will fetch the image.
"What hidden weapon?" Li Suizhi asked.
Since you are unwilling to present the "Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting," it would be better not to hold this Dharma assembly at all. Let us all disperse now.
Oh. Mr. Mu snorted and said nothing
After about the time it takes to brew a pot of tea, two elderly monks brought an ancient scroll to the front of the hall, and the abbot nodded in acknowledgment.
Mo Can touched his stomach and also felt hungry, so he quietly slipped out of the temple
"Alas, this is hardly a treasure map," muttered the bearded man dejectedly
During the break, Mo Canzao usually strolled around the temple. Upon entering the mountain gate, he sensed that the atmosphere was somewhat off. In front of the Great Cloud Hall, the monks were gathered in the corridor, quietly discussing something with serious expressions.
The abbot shook his head and said: "The Dharma assembly at the Gantong Temple has never inquired about the background of the donors"
Indeed, this painting has been hidden in a secret place for a century, known only to the abbot and the guarding monks.
Isn't this a counter... ... poem someone murmured softly
The eyes of the crowd searched around for the speaker
It is said that the Iron Fan technique of the Wen family in the eastern Sichuan region of the Central Plains is unparalleled in the world. The fan conceals mechanisms that can shoot out fourteen iron bones, all of which are highly poisonous, and its reputation in the martial world is rather poor
"What a good character!" The previous white-faced scholar could not help but exclaim, "Just look at how the strokes are bold and vigorous, free and unrestrained, with a rhythm that rises and falls, peaks and ridges gathering like a cluster, just like the natural beauty of the Nineteen Peaks of Diancang, everywhere infused with Zen inspiration. It truly deserves to be called a treasure of the ancient Dian calligraphy world"
Indeed, it is the work left behind by the esteemed master, the abbot remarked without realizing it
The abbot stood up, his expression grave, and said: "Amitabha, having entered the path of emptiness, one should not concern oneself with worldly matters. Donor, you must not take things out of context to tarnish the reputation of our esteemed teacher"
Governor Li Suizhi also interjected, saying: "Master Dandang lived a life of poverty, and the claims regarding treasure maps in the folk are purely fabricated. He was not skilled in martial arts, nor did he hide any martial arts manuals; if it were Buddhist scriptures, they would certainly have been transmitted to the Gantong Temple. As for matters concerning the previous Ming dynasty, the court has already reached a conclusion, and there is no need for everyone to speculate recklessly."
Yes, please proceed to the tea hall for a visit, my lord
"What kind of ink treasure is this? Is it really that legendary treasure map?" shouted the bearded man.
"Last night, the Sutra Repository was robbed, and two people died." The young monk waved his hand and whispered this before hurriedly leaving.
The people of Mojia Village learned about the murder that occurred at Gantong Temple last night, and everyone gathered to discuss it. This place has always been peaceful; how could such a thing happen here
Fan bones
Is this a painting by Master Dand?" Some have raised doubts
"Master Wu Jue," Li Suizhi said slowly as he stood up, a smile on his face, "This government has always appreciated the works of Zen masters, but I have never heard you mention the 'Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting.' It seems that today I will have the pleasure of enjoying it to my heart's content"
The context of this case is not difficult to clarify. After the Dharma assembly concluded, the monk in charge took the "Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting" back to the Sutra Repository. A bearded man followed him and managed to glimpse the location of the painting. Due to the large number of people in the temple during the day, he found it difficult to act, so he broke into the Sutra Repository at night to steal the painting. After being discovered, he killed the monk on guard. Unexpectedly, as the saying goes, "the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind," he was secretly attacked by another person and the "Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting" was taken away. The murderer may have been among the guests from yesterday, Master. Is there a record of those who stayed overnight last night?" Li Suizhi pondered.
"This is not it, that is not it, so what exactly does that verse mean?" the bearded man said with dissatisfaction
Hehe, since that is the case, why not take a look at the old monk's "Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting" in the temple? "There is no Zen in the painting, only the painting conveys Zen," perhaps the mystery lies within this painting. Then, that sharp sound arose again, which was quite uncomfortable to the ears
"Hey, kid, move away." A Qing soldier shouted at Mo Canli to leave.
"Master, aside from the stolen 'Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting,' is there nothing else in the temple?" Li Suizhi asked the abbot without realizing.
Across from me, a wandering Taoist in a tattered gray robe spoke slowly: "To bear a life of poverty, with two daughters left as widows, having left no savings. In the turmoil of the late Ming Dynasty, with smoke of war rising everywhere, the common people were displaced, and the old monk lamented what he could not change. In my view, this verse is merely a self-deprecating reflection on life, with no other intention."
The sound of the bell echoed through the temple, and the abbot, unaware, addressed everyone: "The time for the meal has arrived at this temple. Please, all benefactors, follow this old monk to the dining hall"
The monk Liao Kong replied from the side: "Apart from this old monk, there are six or seven others who descended the mountain this morning. This bearded man left yesterday, but unexpectedly died suddenly in the scripture pavilion."
At this moment, two corpses were carried out from the hall, passing by Da Mo Can's side. One was a monk from the Gan Tong Temple, covered in blood, while the other was a burly figure dressed in black tight-fitting attire, who turned out to be the bearded man.
The abbot, with a troubled expression, stood up and said: "What you may not know is that 'The Landscape of Lingjiu Mountain' is the final work of our late master, which was left unfinished before his passing. Therefore, the treasured copy has never been shown to anyone in this temple for a hundred years..."
Although what the master said has some merit, since your temple has summoned wise individuals from afar, if this painting is indeed related to the "Final Verse," wouldn't a comparative study be a shortcut? No wonder the previous ten or so debates over the verses yielded no results; perhaps this is the reason.
At this moment, the bearded man stood up with a flushed face and exclaimed, "That must be the treasure map."
What the master said is reasonable; the verse from the Zen master is profound and unfathomable, undoubtedly containing deep mysteries.
This is a vertical painting measuring two feet in length. The image features a long streak of uneven large ink dots splashed from top to bottom, resembling mountains yet not quite. On the right side, there is a large ear-shaped ink blot, resembling water yet not quite. A massive vulture stands atop it, its neck elongated as if it is about to peck at something. The meticulous brushwork is quite detailed, yet no feathers are depicted, instead, it inexplicably appears to be covered in fur. Perhaps the Zen master inadvertently dropped a blot of ink on the top of the vulture's head, as if it had grown a horn. The entire painting lacks both inscriptions and signatures.
If there are no images to view, then let us part ways. Since the Gantong Temple shows no sincerity, why should everyone suffer?
The old monk must be seriously ill and weak in body and limbs, which is why this painting was left unfinished, someone speculated
The next day in class, Mr. Mu once again wore a weary expression. Mo Canxin absentmindedly pondered why Mr. Mu, who usually loved to doze off and showed little interest in anything, was so fascinated by that peculiar verse and the "Lingjiu Mountain Water Painting." Could it be that he also believed there was indeed a hidden treasure?
I wonder if there were any members of the Wen family from Chuan Dong among the guests yesterday
The crowd was initially astonished, but soon became greatly disappointed
Mo Can seized the young monk and inquired about what had happened
The scholar in white approached, carefully examining the painting, and spoke: "This ink wash landscape should depict the night scene of Cangshan Mountain, with the bright half-moon hanging high in the eastern night sky, likely a waning crescent moon, during the latter half of the night on the 22nd or 23rd day of the lunar calendar. Everyone, take a look; there are a total of nineteen ink dots from top to bottom, representing the nineteen peaks of Cangshan. From north to south, they are Yunong, Canglang, Wutai, Lianhua, Baiyun, Heyun, Sanyang, Lanfeng, Xue Ren, Ying Le, Guanyin, Zhonghe, Longquan, Yujv, Malong, Sheng Ying, Foting, Ma'er, and Xieyang, all accounted for. This ear-shaped water ring undoubtedly represents Erhai Lake. The painting lacks a title and signature, suggesting it is an unfinished work, a treasured ink masterpiece of the Zen master, which must be signed with the two characters 'Pu He'.
Governor Li Suizhi gazed at the painting in deep contemplation for a while, and remarked: "This painting is entirely different from Master Dandang's previous ink wash landscapes. The nineteen peaks of the Cangshan range do not employ the traditional 'pi ma cun' technique, nor do we see the 'ni li ba ding gui mian cun' style, and there is no distinction among heavy, light, pale, clear, or scorched tones. Especially this spiritual vulture, which has no feathers but only fur; what could the old master mean by this? It truly leaves one perplexed."
Extremely superficial. The pale-faced scholar shook his head in disdain
Upon returning to the academy, Mo Can informed Mr. Mu of what he had seen in the temple
It is not that I am unwilling, but rather that this painting is indeed somewhat too rudimentary compared to the other works of my esteemed teacher
The scroll slowly unfurls
At this moment, a gentle cold wind blows over Cangshan Mountain, bringing a hint of chill
"The Daoist is mistaken," an old monk draped in a kasaya interjected, with kind brows and a benevolent expression. "I, the old monk, have come from the Jin Ning Panlong Temple, hailing from the same hometown as Master Dandang. In the seventh year of the Yuan Zhizheng era, the Patriarch Duan Chongzhao of Panlong sat in meditation and passed away in the temple. This Duan Chongzhao is indeed a descendant of the Duan family from the Dali Kingdom. Three hundred years later, when Dandang visited the Panlong Temple to pay respects to the remains of the Patriarch, he inscribed a couplet that read, 'There must be someone among them; who has broken through the past and present?' Comparing this with the verse, it is evident that the old Zen master must have had something in mind before his passing. I believe that the word 'break' is the key."
In front of the Sutra Repository on the back mountain, a crowd had gathered, surrounded by several Qing soldiers, each with a waist knife hanging from their waist. Next to the unaware abbot stood Li Suizhi, the governor of Dali, dressed in official robes. The monk from Puning Panlong Temple, who had been seen in the tea hall yesterday, was also present.
At this moment, the hall is filled with lively discussions, with everyone expressing their opinions, yet no consensus is reached
Exactly. People began to voice their complaints in a cacophony of voices