Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 700: The Wrathful Vajra

By now, with his experience exploring countless secret realms, Zhao Changhe’s ability to locate and infiltrate these places rivaled that of Ying Five. And when it came to opening yet-unopened... doors, his expertise was far superior.

Using his Qi Observation Technique to trace the flow of faith, he could pinpoint the location of the secret realm’s entrance without breaking a sweat.

Following the currents, Zhao Changhe arrived at the entrance and let out a long mental sigh.

Another hidden entrance behind a giant Buddha? Seriously? Can’t monks be a little more creative? Why is it that every time a temple has a secret realm, it’s always behind the obvious Buddha statue?

From his accumulated knowledge of secret realms, he understood that their arrays were usually natural. They did not originally have the complex mechanisms or contrived switches often seen guarding their entrances. For instance, when he dove into the mouth of a volcano, he was instantly transported to another space without needing to fiddle with anything.

If an entrance was hidden or required manipulation, it was likely the work of those who discovered the realm later. For example, the Black Tortoise’s stone array had clearly been an improvised cover, hastily assembled. Similarly, the Wang Clan’s elaborate altar and mechanisms had simply been a way to conceal the fact that the Zhenhai Sword was originally just stuck in a rock.

In this case, the Buddha statue was less of a functional barrier and more of a facade to obscure the entrance.

Zhao Changhe placed his hand on the back of the statue and used the Crane Controlling Art to probe inside it. With ease, he activated the mechanism from within, revealing an opening. Slipping inside, he did not bother puzzling over how to unlock the realm. He simply leaped in place and drove his heel into the ground with force.

With a resounding thud, he found himself instantly transported elsewhere.

Knowing the nature of secret realms, breaking in could often be this simple.

But what awaited him inside caught him completely off guard.

He had expected a small, self-contained space—perhaps a burial chamber with a resting Buddha, or even a heavily guarded sanctum requiring him to fight his way through. Instead, he found himself in a vast, open expanse. Before him lay grasslands and flowing streams, and in the distance, mountain ranges stretched endlessly toward the horizon. The scale of this secret realm reminded him of the expansive Spirit Tribe’s secret realm.

Such a vast secret realm would normally house a page of the Heavenly Tome. The fact that there had been no hint of one from the blind woman was perplexing.

Without hesitation, Zhao Changhe darted toward the distant mountains. Standing exposed in the middle of the plain made him feel unbearably vulnerable, making him feel as though he were a naked monkey being gawked at in a cage. It was deeply unsettling.

Reaching the cover of the forested mountains, he felt a slight sense of relief under the shade of trees and the concealment of rocky terrain. But as he glanced around, his expression grew even more puzzled.

Outside, it had been midwinter, the Laba Festival, with freezing temperatures. Yet here, the air was sweltering, and the environment was clearly summer. Overhead, a blazing sun hung in the sky like a massive fireball, its light scorching and intense.

This defied logic. Secret realms were fragmented spaces, typically shrouded in darkness and chaos. The presence of a sun or moon was highly unusual. In the Spirit Tribe’s secret realm, their celestial bodies had seemed dubious, likely fabricated constructs.

Here, with the Buddhist context in mind, Zhao Changhe could not help but wonder if this “sun” symbolized Vairocana[1].

Could they be opposite to the Night Emperor?

Zhao Changhe cautiously moved closer, following the faint traces of movement in the mountains. Soon, he came upon the remnants of an ancient temple.

Well, it was ancient in a sense, not so much in other senses. First, the surrounding area was patrolled and guarded by monks sent by Yuan Cheng and others, who also appeared to be using the space for cultivation. Second, despite the temple having endured two eras, its glazed tiles and golden ornaments looked untouched by time, gleaming as if newly crafted. At the same time, broken walls, collapsed roofs, and crumbling structures gave the place an air of desolation and antiquity.

A group of old monks sat cross-legged in the grand plaza before the Mahavira Hall[2], chanting sutras in unison. At the center of the plaza stood a golden Buddha, its radiance outshining everything around it.

Zhao Changhe squinted.

That’s not a statue.

It was the seated corpse of an ancient Buddha, one hand pointing to the earth, the other to the heavens, with glaring, wide-open eyes. Its expression was a blend of wrath, defiance, and unyielding struggle, magnified by the decrepit surroundings. The Buddha’s robes were immaculate, its face full and lifelike, and its body radiated golden light, entirely unlike the mummified corpses Zhao Changhe had encountered before.

They should be from an ancient Buddhist sect... one that represents the indestructibility of a vajra[3].

Although the body was intact, the soul seemed absent, giving the impression of a mere statue.

However, streams of the power of faith flowed into the corpse, indicating that it was not entirely dead. With time and the continued accumulation of faith, it could genuinely revive.

Judging by this, there were likely more such Buddhas elsewhere. Unfortunately for them, Xia Longyuan’s anti-Buddhist campaign had likely destroyed one or more revived Buddhas in the past, halting their revival. Only now was the process restarting.

Yet, something was wrong with the flow of faith. And the Buddha itself felt... off.

Zhao Changhe faintly detected impurities in the supposedly pure faith energy. What should have been pure and serene was tainted by chaos, volatility, conflict, and discord. Unlike the vicious, bloodthirsty energies he associated with the Vicious Blood Art, these were equally negative but took a different form.

The ancient Buddha’s death had left it with deep resentment, making it susceptible to absorbing this chaotic energy. Should it be revived with such a tainted source of energy, it would not be the benevolent figure Yuan Cheng and the others hoped for. Instead, what would come to be would be a wrathful, destructive demon, likely with a fractured or chaotic mind.

* * *

As Zhao Changhe pieced together the situation, Yuan Cheng and his group arrived at the scene of the reported murder involving the Blood God Cult.

A monk lay dead on the ground, his body surrounded by several Blood God Cult members locked in a heated argument with a group of monks.

One of the Blood God Cult men barked, “Damn it, your monk was the one who stabbed my brother first! And when I swung my saber, it wasn’t even a killing blow—it was just to make him back off. Even a dog with three legs could’ve dodged that swing. How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t?”

A monk countered coldly, “Do you seriously believe your own nonsense?”

“My brother Liuzi might not be the sharpest, but he’s been following Boss Zhao long enough to know how to hold his ground! If I killed him, I’d admit it. But don’t try to pin this on me when it wasn’t my fault!”

“It was you who attacked the temple’s devotees first! Our brother only tried to stop you. Isn’t that enough evidence?”

“Bullshit! We’re doing perfectly fine eating the empress’ grain. What reason would we have to rob anyone?!”

“Bandits comb, soldiers trim, and officials shave people clean. Do you seriously think that we should believe you to abstain from looting just because you’re soldiers now? You’re only fooling King Zhao.”

“You can insult me all you want, but if you dare insult Boss Zhao, you better have three heads, because one won’t be enough! Screw you!”

Tensions erupted, and the two sides broke into a full-blown brawl.

“Stop!”

Yuan Cheng and Yuan Xing swiftly intervened, stepping in to break up the fight.

“Amitabha,” Yuan Xing bowed slightly to Liuzi as he greeted him. “This old monk should count as King Zhao’s friend. Would you honor his name and allow us to resolve this matter peacefully?”

Liuzi scowled but growled, “What’s there to resolve? It was this fool who started swinging at us, claiming we were robbing people. We didn’t loot a damn thing! I swung back to get him off, and somehow, he died from it. How’s that my problem?”

Yuan Cheng and Yuan Xing exchanged troubled glances. Liuzi’s explanation was hardly convincing, and they both leaned toward believing it was a cover-up.

Liuzi could feel their doubt, his frustration growing. “Fine! If you don’t believe me, let’s all go talk to Boss Zhao. He’ll set things straight!”

Invoking Zhao Changhe’s name felt like a thinly veiled attempt to leverage his authority, and it stoked the monks’ anger even further. Yuan Cheng’s gaze darkened as he looked at his fallen brother. He could not suppress the flicker of rage that bubbled beneath his calm exterior.

“So be it,” Yuan Cheng said, his voice cold. “Restrain them all. We’ll bring this to King Zhao directly.”

As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed Liuzi’s shoulder with a firm grip.

At that very moment, deep within the secret realm, the vajra’s furious eyes snapped open.

It stirred as if awakening from a long slumber.

“The Buddha has revived!” an old monk exclaimed with joy.

But before the words fully escaped his mouth, the vajra turned its wrathful gaze upon him. The monk’s expression froze as his body convulsed violently. His blood vessels bulged grotesquely, and his eyes bulged as if subjected to an immense, unbearable pressure.

“What’s going on with the Buddha?!” the other monks cried in alarm.

Rumble!

With a deafening rumble, the vajra slowly rose to its feet. Though its body glowed with radiant golden light, its aura was filled with malice and hatred—a terrifying blend of divinity and demon.

Boom!

The vajra’s fist shot forward, striking the monk who had been caught in its gaze.

“Buddha, please stop!” The other monks rushed to intervene, attempting to subdue the raging figure.

Boom!

The once-serene temple was instantly engulfed in chaos.

Outside, Yuan Cheng had just managed to restrain Liuzi and his men when a cry of alarm rang out.

“Look! What’s that?”

The crowd turned to see a winged horse descending from the sky, landing in their midst with startling grace.

Liuzi’s eyes lit up with joy. “It’s Boss Zhao’s horse!”

The monks froze. The tales of Zhao Changhe’s flying steed had already spread far and wide—from his daring escape to Langya to his victories over gods and demons. That this legendary horse had appeared here, seemingly out of nowhere, sent a chill down their spines.

The implication was staggering: Zhao Changhe, though far away, could still extend his reach to protect his subordinates. The thought left everyone feeling as though they were being watched by an omnipotent force—a divine being, perhaps even a genuine Buddha himself.

The sharp-eyed among them noticed a note attached to the horse’s back. Yuan Xing stepped forward and took it down. There were only two sentences on it, “First, check the deceased’s body for vicious qi. Second, my men here have never learned the Vicious Blood Art.”

1. The name of Vairocana (Sanskrit: “from the sun” “solar” etc.) is rendered in Chinese as 大日如來, i.e. “Great Sun Buddha.” Vairocana is considered to be the dharma body of the historical Buddha, Gautama Siddartha. ☜

2. A Mahavira Hall is also known as a Great Buddha’s hall. It is often the main hall of a traditional Chinese Buddhist temple. ☜

3. The term “vajra” refers to a ritual implement, a symbol of indestructible power and enlightenment. However, there are deities and attendants in Buddhism who are referred to as Vajra protectors, who act as protectors of the faith and embody the indestructible, wrathful aspect of wisdom. I will probably simply refer to this statue as vajra later on, though. ☜