Chapter 51: The Divine Guardian of the Mystical Order—Eagle and Tiger
At this moment, with five hundred coins in hand, Zhao San and his mother finally had the means to fulfill their vow at the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple in South Guo.
The jingle of coins in his pocket gave him a sense of calm, unflustered by anything.
He strolled along, humming a cheerful tune, his heart feeling quietly content in a way words could not capture. Before he realized it, he had reached halfway up the mountain.
Zhao San gazed at the two divine statues before him: one had the beak of an eagle and tusked jaws, dignified and imposing; the other, a square mouth and tiger’s face, ferocious and menacing.
At the sight of these statues, a wave of fear swept over Zhao San. It was as if he had done something shameful, and he wished he could vanish from sight.
But then he remembered: the master at the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple had told him that Buddhist cultivation was like the Great Academy, while others were merely at the stage of first learning to read. Only those who cultivated the Dao of Immortality reached a slightly higher level, comparable at best to an arhat—still bound to the cycles of the Three Realms and Six Paths.
He, however, aspired to reach the Western Paradise beyond the Three Realms and outside the Five Elements, even if only as the lowest grade of lotus-born. That would still be better than anyone else in this world.
Yet, for now, he was still utterly destitute, empty-handed. The Eagle-Tiger God was said to be a primordial deity from ancient times, one who had fought alongside the Great Emperor of the East Mountain for territory for humankind, a being of profound virtue.
But all that mattered little—what mattered was the rumor that the Eagle-Tiger God was especially responsive to the prayers of those harboring kindness and a heart to save others, nearly always granting their wishes.
Zhao San assured himself that he was just such a person. All his deeds were meritorious—he ate vegetarian meals, recited sutras daily, and made offerings to the Buddha; this, he believed, was the highest merit. Surely, he thought, if he prayed to the Eagle-Tiger God, his wish would be granted. After all, he was a disciple of the Mahayana, and perhaps by chanting the Buddha’s name to this god, he might even convert him to the Western Paradise.
He found a suitable spot, knelt before the statue of the Eagle-Tiger God, pressed his palms together, and, fingers pointing skyward, began to pray:
“As a disciple of the Buddha, I have returned to my true lineage and entered the Buddhist fold. All under heaven who follow the Buddha are one family, all are children of the Buddha. I am now in difficulty, and I beseech the protector deity to grant me worldly fortune. I vow to devote myself sincerely to the Buddha and cultivate a heart of compassion, so that I may soon ascend to the Western Paradise.”
He bowed thrice, then began to chant:
“Amitabha…”
At that moment, the statue suddenly dimmed. From the nearby cliff strode a giant, nine feet tall, with a hooked beak, silver fangs, eyes wide and fierce, exuding an unspoken majesty. He had a tiger’s back, a bear’s waist, wore a lotus-crowned helmet adorned with thunder tigers, and a red robe with black trim.
He shouted at Zhao San:
“You do not recognize your own ancestors, yet you worship false teachers as your forebears. You practice the three destructions: destroying the Dharma, your body, your family, and your nation. You have brought ruin upon yourself and now seek to harm others. You steal without shame and take pride in it.”
“Begone!”
With a thunderous roar, Zhao San was sent tumbling head over heels. The giant strode forward, seized Zhao San’s coin pouch, and casually tossed it up the mountain, straight into the very spot in the East Mountain Temple where Zhao San had stolen it.
At that moment, Priest Ren cried out in alarm, “The Eagle-Tiger Protector of the East Mountain!”
He turned to Shangguan Chuanyun and said, “Come, let’s take a look.”
Shangguan Chuanyun did not hesitate, knowing this was the Protector God of the sacred site, the Eagle-Tiger General. The two of them rose at once. Priest Ren vaulted three zhang into the air, flying toward the statue halfway up the mountain, while Shangguan Chuanyun took a running start, leapt nine feet off the ground, and followed.
As they reached the summit, they saw before the statue a giant draped in a black-trimmed scarlet robe, delivering a mighty kick to Zhao San’s backside.
A faint, miserable howl could be heard—like a flower crushed and a bottom grievously wounded.
“Hmph,” the Eagle-Tiger God snorted coldly.
He said, “The pitiable are always blameworthy in some way.”
Just then, Priest Ren and Shangguan Chuanyun landed beside the statue, ready to pay their respects.
The Eagle-Tiger God waved them off, saying, “If your heart harbors crookedness, your incense offerings mean nothing. If you carry righteousness, what need is there to bow before me?”
Simple, direct, clear, and forthright—Shangguan Chuanyun thought to himself, no wonder this god attained enlightenment through thunder; but why did these words sound so familiar? Like the incantations of King Lingguan, the Guardian of the Dao from his previous life.
A suspicion flickered in Shangguan Chuanyun’s mind. He glanced up at the Eagle-Tiger God—hooked beak, silver fangs, fearsome visage, lotus-crowned helmet, crimson robe with black trim, jade belt, and at his waist a thirteen-section golden whip, with two wind-fire wheels hanging beside.
A jolt ran through Shangguan Chuanyun’s heart. Wasn’t this the God-General of the Thunder Division, King Lingguan, the Guardian of the Dao? Could it be such a coincidence? He dared not be sure, so he stepped forward, performed the Taiji salute, and tested:
“Does the venerable deity know of Fire-Car King Lingguan?”
The Eagle-Tiger God glanced at him in surprise and replied, “I am but one incarnation of King Lingguan.”
Shangguan Chuanyun thought, so it is. Then, could he return home? In his previous world, spiritual energy was depleted, but he had begun to unravel the mystery. If things went well, he might restore a trace of primordial energy. After all, that was the place he thought of as home. In this chaotic world, he felt rootless, always a wanderer in a foreign land. So he asked,
“Does the venerable deity know a way to return to your original world?”
The Eagle-Tiger God pondered and looked at him, saying, “You mean the world created by Pangu the Heavenly King? I see from your aura and inheritance that you must be from the Middle Lands.”
Eagerly, Shangguan Chuanyun replied, “Yes, yes, the Middle Lands—the one where human birth is rare, the Middle Lands where the Dao is hard to hear, that Middle Lands.”
He looked at the Eagle-Tiger God with anxious hope.
The Eagle-Tiger God grinned, flashing his silver teeth in a terrifying smile. “Heh heh, my true self also hails from the Middle Lands.”
Their exchange made Priest Ren, standing to the side, thoroughly bewildered. He could make no sense of their cryptic conversation and could only stand by, feigning composure.
Shangguan Chuanyun smiled and echoed, “Indeed, we are countrymen. So, does the venerable deity know how to return?”
The Eagle-Tiger God’s expression grew solemn. Shangguan Chuanyun waited breathlessly. If there was a path home, he could train and prepare in this world. As long as there was a way, no matter how hard, he would eventually succeed. Then the Eagle-Tiger God said,
“There is no way.”
“Uh…” Shangguan Chuanyun was dumbfounded, on the verge of spitting blood. If there was no way, there was no need to act so serious.
The Eagle-Tiger God, seeing the moment was right, grinned again, baring his silver teeth in a fearsome smile. “It’s not that there’s no way at all.”
Shangguan Chuanyun promptly asked, “Does the venerable deity know a way?”
The Eagle-Tiger God’s smile faded and he mused, “But as long as the order of the Three Realms in this world remains unsettled, there is no way to return.”
There it was again—this solemn Guardian of the Dao had such a mischievous side. Who knew how many years it would take? If fiends and demons continued to run rampant, would he ever have hope of returning? Perhaps he was better off not knowing.
“In truth, if you wish to establish the order of Heaven and Earth, you could take advantage of this great catastrophe of dynastic change to set up the heavens, earth, and human realms. At most, it would take a few decades.”
Shangguan Chuanyun considered this. If he could seize the opportunity of this calamity to establish a celestial court, an underworld, and set the human realm in order, it might work. Once done, he could ask the Eagle-Tiger God again about returning—after all, the god couldn’t run away.
Yet, upon reflection, he realized such a monumental task could not be accomplished by one person alone; he would definitely need help. He looked to the Eagle-Tiger God—whose cultivation was so profound he could not even discern its depth—but he could not ask directly, as that would be disrespectful. He prepared to ask for assistance.
The Eagle-Tiger God, seeing Shangguan Chuanyun’s intention, quickly flexed his arms and said, “I can’t help you much—old bones and joints, I can barely move. If you’d like, you can take my outfit; perhaps it might be of some use.”
Shangguan Chuanyun eyed the divine regalia—all spiritual treasures of the highest order. Yet, with his own cultivation, he would not be able to wield their full power; at most, they could serve to intimidate.
A magic treasure was not better for being more powerful—what mattered was suitability. Only the wearer knew if the shoe fit. Better to forge a few treasures he could use to their full strength. So he replied ill-humoredly,
“What would I do with your regalia? No one could use it, not even me. Better not to have it.”
“Heh heh.”
The Eagle-Tiger God let out an awkward laugh. “I still have an unfinished dream, so I won’t stay here any longer.” With that, he dissolved into mist and merged with the East Mountain.
Shangguan Chuanyun was at a loss for words at the god’s abrupt departure. He muttered,
“He’s gone just like that? We’re fellow countrymen, yet he vanishes without giving a clear answer—how irresponsible.”
“What?” asked Priest Ren, puzzled. He’d only heard mention of establishing the order of the Three Realms, but as for returning, or the Middle Lands, he had no idea what they meant. When he saw the Eagle-Tiger God vanish and Shangguan Chuanyun muttering, he asked,
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Shangguan Chuanyun replied. But then, looking at Priest Ren, he considered that perhaps this priest could help. If they established the order of the Three Realms, he might, by virtue of this merit, become an immortal.
It would be a win-win, all benefit and no harm.
Priest Ren, feeling uneasy under Shangguan Chuanyun’s gaze, glanced at himself. Though his robe was shabby, it was clean and neat. He asked,
“Is there something I can do for you, sir?”
“Frankly, Master, in times like these, for us cultivators to attain the Dao of the Celestial Immortal and ascend Kunlun, there is only one way,” Shangguan Chuanyun said.
Priest Ren, who had spent nearly a century in cultivation and attained only the Golden Core—at best an earthbound immortal, with a lifespan of three to five hundred years—was desperate. To achieve the undying Celestial Immortal and ascend, he had not the faintest clue; even the three-thousand-year lifespan of the Immortal Realm was out of reach, let alone Celestial Immortality. He asked urgently,
“Sir, do you know of a way?”
“I do.”
“I beg you, sir, please teach me!” Priest Ren moved to bow, but Shangguan Chuanyun quickly stopped him. After a moment’s thought, he said,
“Master, are you familiar with establishing the primordial order of Heaven and Earth, cultivating merit, and using it to support your practice?”
Priest Ren considered, then nodded. “I know a little.”
Shangguan Chuanyun organized his words and said,
“The Eagle-Tiger God just now pointed out the path of attaining the Dao through merit. As you know, for cultivators like us, without blessed immortal mountains or spiritual treasures of heaven and earth, the path to attainment is all the more arduous. The god, out of pity for us, has shown us a great way.”
Priest Ren pondered and said, “Though the path of merit is one of the great laws, it is deeply entangled with karma…”
Shangguan Chuanyun replied, “Though the path of merit does draw one deeper into the karmic ties of this world, as natives, how could we avoid such ties? This world is our homeland, the place of our origin; we must not forget our roots.”
Priest Ren thought for a moment and agreed. Yet, after a century in this world, he had experienced only harm and heartlessness, which had discouraged him from engaging with the world, preferring to remain in the East Mountain Temple cultivating in solitude.