Chapter Seven: The Water and Land Dharma Assembly

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Qiuno seemed accustomed to everything inside the pagoda, but when Qingyang took out the wooden box, even Qiuno’s curiosity was piqued. Judging by the way she looked, it seemed she had never seen this wooden box before. On the way back, I kept pondering over what Qiuno’s mother had said: handing this wooden box over to the abbot of the Great Ci’en Temple would grant any request!

Yue Qianling was naturally curious and tried several times to open the box. Nearby, Gu Anqi egged her on. I didn’t want to watch, but Qingyang had warned us before we left that the box must be opened inside the Great Ci’en Temple. Holding the box, I finally managed to find a passing monk inside the temple. It felt awkward to approach him, but in the end, I had no choice and timidly said, “Master, we would like to meet with the abbot of your temple.”

The monk looked at us. Most visitors to the Great Ci’en Temple were tourists; no one had ever made such a request. With hands clasped together, he said, “The abbot is in meditation and is not seeing visitors. Please forgive us, benefactors.”

I was not surprised; after all, he was the head of the entire temple. There was no reason to just let anyone see him on a whim. Yue Qianling, already feeling displeased, thought that if we opened the incense burner or the statue of a bodhisattva now, the monk’s reaction would be different. Pouting in frustration, she unfolded the brocade in my hands, revealing the wooden box inside.

“Please inform the abbot that we wish to donate this to the temple.”

The monk replied, “If the benefactors wish to make an offering, they may do so at the incense hall ahead. Brothers of the temple will receive them. Your merit will be boundless.”

The monk kept his hands clasped, bowing his head. Yue Qianling grew more and more annoyed. These days, monks seemed quite aloof—even donations were treated with disdain. But on reflection, it made sense: the Great Ci’en Temple was thriving, with countless visitors coming daily to pray and donate. Just holding a wooden box, no one else found it shabby, but I felt embarrassed.

The monk was about to leave when his eyes caught the wooden box in my arms. He glanced at it once and suddenly looked as if struck by lightning. His raised hand trembled uncontrollably. They say monks renounce worldly attachments, yet he hardly seemed like one who had seen through the world's affairs.

“Ming… Ming… Dharma name!” The monk shouted shakily to several monks at the temple entrance.

The temple’s horn was sacred and solemn; it was only sounded for extremely important matters or grand Buddhist ceremonies. No one dared to blow it lightly.

Woo… woo… woo…

The deep, resonant horn echoed throughout the temple. Almost all the monks stopped their work, faces full of shock. Visitors inside the Great Ci’en Temple were drawn by the sudden sound.

“This is strange. The temple’s horn hasn’t sounded in decades. What’s the big event today?” I overheard the temple staff whispering in confusion.

I slightly parted my lips. Even Yue Qianling, who had been waiting to see me humiliated, stood frozen. What was so special about this wooden box that it could summon the Great Ci’en Temple’s horn?

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The monk clasped his hands and bowed even lower, leading me toward the main hall. I followed behind, bewildered, noticing more and more monks gathering behind me, arranged neatly in two rows, also with hands clasped, chanting sutras continuously.

We climbed the steps to the main hall’s mountain gate. An elderly monk, obviously accomplished, rushed out from inside. The leading monk stepped aside automatically.

“Abbot, this benefactor wishes to make a donation.”

“Abbot, master, this is my friend,” I said, pushing Gu Anqi forward. “She has lived abroad for a long time and has come back specifically to accumulate merit, donating this… this wooden box to your temple.”

The old monk barely listened to my words. His lips kept moving silently, and his extended hand trembled incessantly. In my mind, monks renounce the world to cultivate peace of mind and should be magnanimous and indifferent to worldly matters. Especially the abbot of the Great Ci’en Temple, a highly enlightened monk should be detached from the mundane.

Yet the old monk before me was anything but calm. He was clearly violating at least three Buddhist precepts.

The old monk examined the carved statue on the wooden box, then looked up and took a deep breath. With a strong voice, he shouted, “Amitabha Buddha!”

Immediately, he knelt down with a thud. All the monks in the Great Ci’en Temple gathered in the square beneath the main hall and, without coordination, knelt and worshipped along with the abbot.

What a spectacular scene! I stood bewildered, holding the wooden box, looking around. On the main hall’s steps, I stood above all, while all the monks knelt beneath me. Their chanting grew louder and louder, like a grand ceremony—a spontaneous act.

Visitors at the temple were also amazed by this sudden turn of events, seeing all the monks kneeling before me.

The old abbot rose respectfully and said to me, “Benefactor, your merit is immeasurable. I, a humble monk, will hang your name on the longevity plaque beside the Buddha statue in the main hall. I will lead the entire temple’s monks to recite sutras and chant Buddha’s name daily for you. May you enjoy blessings, longevity, and hear the true Dharma soon!”

I was speechless. I had visited the Great Ci’en Temple many times. Near the entrance stood a merit stele engraved with the names of donors—only those who donated large sums could have their names inscribed. Being on that stele was a great honor, with donations often amounting to millions.

And yet, I had brought only a wooden box, and now my longevity plaque was hung beside the Buddha statue, receiving the highest honors in Buddhism, with all the monks chanting daily for me.

“No, this… this item isn’t mine,” I whispered awkwardly to Qiuno. “What’s your mother’s name? They can’t write my name; this belongs to her.”

“She has always preferred quiet and solitude, unwilling to be disturbed. Since the box has been given to you, it belongs to you,” Qiuno answered softly.

I gathered courage and finally told the old abbot the name. Nearby, a monk wrote the longevity plaque. After the solemn ceremony, I looked at the plaque bearing my name beside the Buddha statue with mixed amusement and disbelief.

Yue Qianling couldn’t help but cover her mouth, chuckling quietly, “Hey, what do you think the Buddha would feel if he knew a charlatan’s name hung beside him?”

“Well… maybe we should write your name instead?” I said, feeling awkward.

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“No way! I couldn’t bear such merit. You should keep it. Ha ha ha,” Yue Qianling said cheerfully.

After speaking, I noticed the old abbot had changed into a new set of robes. Indeed, clothes make the man; the fresh kasaya made him look spirited. Several monks carried a small incense table to the incense burner in the main hall, draped with bright yellow velvet. On either side, eighteen monks sat cross-legged. Judging by their age, they seemed to be senior monks of the Great Ci’en Temple.

It looked like preparations were underway for an important ceremony. Although the timing was rushed and some details imperfect, every step seemed rehearsed and orderly.

Visitors thought it was a routine temple ritual. Such grand ceremonies were rare and gathered crowds around the hall to watch and take photos.

Outside, the sound of orderly running caught my attention. Armed police were entering through the main gate!

The temple grounds were peaceful, so no weapons were allowed inside. The policemen carried riot shields and batons, but outside the Great Ci’en Temple, heavily armed officers stood guard in formation, three steps one post, five steps one man, surrounding the temple completely.

Such a large-scale operation attracted many tourists outside, all eager to see what was happening. However, entry and exit from the Great Ci’en Temple were now forbidden.

Clutching the wooden box, I felt increasingly uneasy. What exactly was I holding that could alarm the military? I noticed that Qiuno and Gu Anqi also looked somewhat frightened.

Several people ascended the nearby steps. The leader looked familiar.

“Professor Jiang?!” Yue Qianling recognized him, surprised. “What brings you here?”

“Qianling? Yan… Yan Hui? Qiuno, you’re here too?” Professor Jiang wiped sweat and asked curiously. “I’m in Jingzhao for a conference. Just now, temple staff called to say there was a sudden ceremony, apparently related to a donation. From the description, it’s the grandest Water and Land Dharma Assembly in Buddhism.”

“Professor Jiang, what is the Water and Land Dharma Assembly?” Gu Anqi asked curiously.

“It’s a ceremony venerating the Buddhas of the ten directions. Without high cultivation or major events, it’s rarely held,” Qiuno whispered. “The last time the Great Ci’en Temple held the Water and Land Dharma Assembly was a thousand years ago.”

“A thousand years? What occasion triggered it then?”

“Master Xuanzang became abbot and, having brought back the true scriptures, merited infinite merit, so the Water and Land Dharma Assembly was held,” Qiuno explained.

Professor Jiang glanced at me, stiffly holding the wooden box, and asked curiously, “I heard it’s connected to a donation. It must be the box you’re holding. What’s inside?”

“Please don’t ask me. I don’t know either. Coming here with such a huge scene, it’s making me nervous,” I replied with a wry smile.