Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 97

"Strive on! I see the brilliant potential within you. You will be the one to save the future, and we—me, Zhang Baisen, Gui Jianchuan, and Bumenlu—will eventually become your subordinates. More experts will join us, willingly following you to strive for the salvation of the future. You are the only savior; please take good care of yourself and protect yourself..."

Hearing his words, I just wanted to burst out laughing.

The so-called "savior" absolutely does not exist. From childhood to adulthood, the philosophical principles I have learned clearly state that "human will can overcome nature, and everyone's future is in their own hands." If I were the savior, why couldn't I fly, transform into a thousand different forms, or breathe fire and clouds and control the rain?

My thoughts shifted only for a moment before Master Xianyun continued, "Your view of the savior is completely wrong. A true savior is simply the most exquisite key in the world. He can open any door in any space and any time, without needing supreme strength or absolute power. This key can open the iron gates that brutes shout at the top of their lungs but remain unmoved, and it can also freely travel through the portals of time and space. Believe me—"

"He can read my mind?" I sneered inwardly. I knew my own limitations—I had that much self-awareness. I hoped to become the future "New King of Tomb Raiders," surpassing my elder brother Yang Tian's achievements, but that was ten years, or even thirty or fifty years from now.

"Savior? Give me a break, that's just a gimmick to make onlookers laugh." I shrugged, about to calmly retort, when the two sides on the tower suddenly began fighting—

The terrain at the top of the tower must have been very narrow, and the roof tiles were covered with slippery moss that had been there for a long time, making it difficult to even stand firmly. How could one fully display their martial arts skills and fight? Therefore, in the first move, Guijianchuan and Master Xianyun were locked in a tense battle of internal strength and resilience.

With their four hands clasped together, Kamekawa was at a slight disadvantage, as his height was no match for the combined height of Zhang Baisen and Master Xianyun. However, as the "landlord" of Fengge Temple, he had the support of more than three hundred monks, giving him the advantage of "advantageous location and popular support" essential for victory.

Unfortunately, there were no binoculars around, so we could only watch their competition with our naked eyes. Even with our eyes wide open, we could only see a blurry general picture.

With a "plop," a gray tile fell from the top of the tower and into the water, creating a loud splash.

Master Shenbi anxiously called out, "Xiao Ye, Nan Ren, go to my room and get the telescope..." Some people answered and ran off, while the rest held their breath and looked up, afraid of missing this duel between the top martial arts masters.

Fengge Temple has a long tradition of martial arts, so all the monks there are skilled in martial arts and are more enthusiastic about the pursuit of combat than the understanding of Buddhist teachings. When martial people see masters sparring, they are like gluttons seeing a grand feast, completely unable to move their feet.

"This isn't a sparring match; it's another form of spiritual exchange. Even the eminent monks Guijian and Bumen could see your extraordinary abilities... If given time, the special powers within you will be unleashed, bringing blessings to the future of Earth..."

Suddenly, Master Xianyun's voice was punctuated by Guijianchuan's words: "Young brother, the future of Fengge Temple is entrusted to you. I will accompany Master Xianyun to the snowy wilderness to find the Tibetan Buddhist masters' understanding of 'The Centuries.' Do you know? The so-called prophecies in 'The Centuries' are merely summaries of these divine warnings from Europe and America—the truth we can imagine is that Japan has its own doomsday prophecy, and so does China… Everywhere in the world, on all seven continents and in all four oceans, divine warnings remain; it's just a matter of whether someone can find and understand them in time…"

I involuntarily took a step back and leaned heavily against a stone pillar. These words deeply shocked me and, like a sudden awakening, reminded me: "If Nostradamus could receive divine warnings and make these accurate prophecies, wouldn't many people in ancient China, Asia, the Americas, and Africa also receive these astonishing revelations? Each race only needs to find its own prophecy; why spend a lifetime trying to decipher Nostradamus's words?"

Suddenly, Kamekabe burst into loud laughter, and the three of them simultaneously flipped off the top of the tower, landing gracefully on the water with extremely carefree movements.

Before Master Shenbi could retrieve his telescope, the three men had already waded across the water and gracefully walked to the Moon Cave entrance.

Once again, I became the center of attention, as Master Xianyun and Guijianchuan simultaneously grasped my left and right hands, smiling and whispering, "Let us help you... open your eight extraordinary meridians... penetrate the mysteries of heaven and earth... you will become..."

This overused trope of "divine skill infusion" from old martial arts novels actually happened to me in a wonderfully vivid way. Indeed, according to the theories of Chinese mystical martial arts, after receiving external help to open one's eight extraordinary meridians, the speed of qi circulation will increase more than three times, resulting in twice the effect with half the effort when practicing any martial art.

A powerful surge of heat rushed from Master Xianyun's palm, flowing along my palm, wrist, elbow, and shoulder, all the way to my chest at the Tanzhong acupoint, and finally to my lower abdomen (Dantian), a warm and comfortable sensation. Meanwhile, a cold current of energy entered from my other palm, following the same route, also reaching my Dantian. The hot and cold mingled, and a gurgling sound filled my lower abdomen, gradually growing louder. I felt a light and exhilarating sensation throughout my body.

The person closest to me at that moment was Master Shenbi, who was staring at me with eyes full of extreme envy and jealousy. He had probably longed for this kind of good fortune his whole life, but he had never had the chance to do so, unlike me, a Chinese man who was only entering Fengge Temple for the second time.

Unbeknownst to them, as night deepened, the water level slowly receded, as if the courtyard floor were a giant sieve, showing how the water had overflowed and then flowed back down. Gradually, the water and the sound of flowing water disappeared, leaving only a clean floor.

The mountain breeze quickly dried the wet ground, leaving no trace.

After the hot and cold air swirled around my body, I felt so lazy that I just wanted to close my eyes and take a long nap, and my thoughts gradually became hazy. Just then, the phone in my pocket rang loudly again, its deafening roar almost deafening in the quiet night.

The two masters released my hand at the same time. Gui Jianchuan frowned, looking at Master Xianyun with a troubled expression, as if he had discovered an extremely perplexing problem.

I took out my phone; it was Su Lun's number, and it kept ringing stubbornly.

I could only give the two people in front of me an apologetic wry smile and start answering the phone. Unexpectedly, Suren's first words immediately perked me up: "Brother Feng, I just received a call from Yelan. He asked me for money, saying he has a big secret he can sell me, it's about... about the 'Soul-Resurrection Sand'..."

Suren's voice was somewhat hoarse, and the call quality was poor, suggesting she was in a place far from the city, on the edge of the cell tower's coverage area.

It had been so long since I'd heard her voice, and a long-lost sense of warmth welled up inside me. My voice naturally carried an irrepressible tenderness: "Never mind what others think—where are you? Not in Cairo? Are you in some remote wilderness? Are you alright? What's wrong? Your throat's a little sore..."

From a cold and distant sibling relationship to a subtle quasi-romantic relationship that blossomed over time, I have rarely cared for her this much.

She sighed deeply into the receiver, her voice filled with relief: "I'm fine, it's just because I haven't been drinking enough water. I'm in... a small town in Xianyang..."

I need to mentally search through that place name before I can pinpoint its exact location. Of course, Xianyang boasts the most anecdotes, stories, legends, and treasures associated with it in mainland China, making it a place that tomb raiders of all sizes never forget. Though small, a respected figure in the tomb raiding world has confidently asserted: "Every square meter of land in Xianyang contains more commercial value than a square mile in California. If you want to get rich, go dig in Xianyang..."

I clearly remember the phone call I had with Su Lun at Xunfuyuan Villa. The scalpel was stolen from a private museum there, and Su Lun, as the rights representative of the scalpel, had to fly to Xianyang.

"I'm fine, don't worry. You'd better be careful yourself. I just asked Xiao Xiao, were you at Fengge Temple? And did several strange things happen there?"

Something strange had indeed happened, but it wasn't appropriate to discuss it in detail over the phone. I replied casually, "Yes, some trivial matters occurred. Is Yelan planning to extort an exorbitant amount? I don't think that 'Resurrection Sand' is worth any more attention—"

Suren laughed, her voice hoarse but still melodious: "Perhaps—you know what? He wants twenty million US dollars, and you probably won't believe it, he called from Tokyo, from a famous casino. Maybe he's lost it all gambling and wants some money to spend..."

I was slightly taken aback: "Oh? He's in Tokyo now?"

Yellan's expertise lies in desert drilling, and he has dedicated his entire life to this field. Therefore, the desert is the most suitable and appropriate place for him to be. Whether it's Africa, Asia, or the Americas, it must be a place with deserts. Undoubtedly, there are no deserts in the Japanese archipelago suitable for drilling. What would he be doing here?

A burst of jarring noise came through the phone, and after a while, she was able to continue: "Be careful, don't act impulsively. I'll get to Hokkaido as soon as possible to meet up with everyone... I've given your phone number to Yelan, and he'll contact you again."

Yelan's sudden appearance was an absolutely strange piece of news.

After hanging up the phone, my mind raced: "When a gambler loses everything, he might sell everything he owns to get more money to gamble. The secret he's selling is asking for twenty million US dollars, which is an astonishing figure—" I was extremely skeptical.

"It seems...it seems like something's not quite right, is it?" Kamekawa finally spoke with a strange expression.

All the monks rushed into the courtyard and hurried to the foot of the pagoda, their expressions grave as they searched the ground diligently. If the rushing water was indeed seeping from the cracks in the stone slabs, simply searching the surface would surely yield nothing. Perhaps lifting up the entire floorboards would reveal something.

Master Xianyun smiled and said, "Little friend, your body structure is really..."

He suddenly stopped talking and glanced at Master Shenbi and the three old monks, Elephant, Lion, and Tiger, because these four people had been by my side the whole time and had not left for a single second.

"My physical structure?" This question immediately reminded me of when I entered the secret chamber of the god Turkhan in the Egyptian desert, and the shadow of the Saturnian and the illusion demon almost said the same thing in unison. Judging from Master Xianyun's expression and tone, what he didn't say was that he doubted I was from Earth.

During my studies in Italy, I underwent no fewer than fifty professional medical examinations, detailed down to my toes and hair. In every single one of them, the examination report did not state anything like "this student is an alien." Therefore, using the most scientific method of "elimination of inference," we can arrive at the answer—"I, Yang Feng, am absolutely a genuine Earthling."

Master Xianyun smiled and suddenly placed a hand on Zhang Baisen's head, his lips moving rapidly. He must be imparting some secret in a special way. Zhang Baisen's eyebrows twitched, he squeezed his eyes shut, and his chest heaved violently.

This strange way of communicating lasted for about half a minute, when Zhang Baisen suddenly opened his eyes and nodded solemnly: "Yes, I've remembered everything."

Ever since this strange pair appeared at Fengge Temple, Zhang Baisen's attitude has always been humble and respectful, showing the utmost reverence to Master Xianyun. If the Zhang family's supporters on the mainland were to see this, I wonder how astonished they would be.

After the water receded, the "Tower of the Dead" appeared even more bizarre and abrupt in the night. The milky-white tower stood tall, like a giant spacecraft about to launch.

Kamekawa hesitated for a moment before replying, "Never mind! That's not important. We need to get to the snowy region, right?"

The snowy region, in a general sense, refers to the shady part of the Himalayas where snow and ice never melt. It is also a death zone heavily marked on maps because humans have difficulty finding food and cannot survive under the constant snow cover.

Master Xianyun nodded readily: "Yes, the clues left there are what we really want." He suddenly leaped from Zhang Baisen's arms to Gui Jianchuan's arms.

So, Kamekazuki took Zhang Baisen's place, becoming the "living wheelchair" that carried Master Xianyun. I exchanged a glance with Zhang Baisen, and I saw utter bewilderment in his eyes. He was well past the age of forty, a time of no longer being confused, yet the moment Master Xianyun left his embrace, it was as if his mind had been suddenly emptied. He looked up at Master Xianyun like an idiot.

I tried to focus my energy in my lower abdomen (Dantian), and then slowly raised my right arm, hoping for some unusual change within my body. Unfortunately, my strength and breathing were exactly the same as before, without any sign of strengthening or accelerating, which greatly disappointed me.

“You should stay by his side from now on. You still have a chance to attain enlightenment and ascend to heaven, even more than if you stayed by my side. Believe in him, believe in the energy within him…” Master Xianyun casually pointed to Zhang Baisen, then to me: “You, never forget your mission, understand?”

I took a step back in surprise, and smiled bitterly to myself: "Mission? My mission is to find my older brother Yang Tian—I don't want to be some kind of 'savior'. If the earth is really going to be destroyed in the 'Big Seven' in 2007, there's nothing I can do about it."

In my heart, I've always held the belief that "the universe has no owner": the formation of the universe and the existence of planets are natural phenomena. Since the universe has no owner, what need does Earth, this tiny planet as insignificant as dust, have for a "savior"?

Ignorance is bliss, and the more one knows, the more humble one becomes—this is the truest reflection of the Earthling's mindset. Once we realize that Earth is but a tiny fraction of the vast universe, humanity should recognize the extreme insignificance of its own capabilities. In the billions of light-years that have passed, countless planets like Earth have been born and perished, and countless mortal beings like humans have experienced birth and death—the number is unimaginable.

Life and death are preordained; there's no need to force them. Every time I think of this saying, my heart is filled with unimaginable sorrow.

Master Xianyun suddenly sighed, staring intently at me: "What are you thinking? If everyone thought like this, stopped pursuing, stopped striving, then the evolution of humanity would come to an end." A dark cloud suddenly fell over his face, and he raised his fists as if to smash something, waving them forcefully: "Anyone on Earth can think like this, except you! You can't! There are many things waiting for you to do—"

He choked on his breath and began to cough violently.

When he was held in Kamekawa's arms, it created an extremely bizarre scene. Kamekawa's face was that of an infant who had just been weaned, his skin so delicate it seemed a gust of wind could break it. He, on the other hand, looked exactly like a seven-year-old boy, both in appearance and physique.

"I'll give you... I'll give you memories... I'll give you memories... memories..." he spoke again, his voice becoming deep and gloomy, his eyes growing brighter and brighter until they burned my gaze intensely. In an instant, it felt as if a thousand sharp arrows had struck my body simultaneously; every part of my body was wracked with intense pain, and my defenses were wide open, leaving me defenseless.

"Ouch..." Instinctively, I tried to stagger back, attempting to avoid his gaze. The scream was involuntary, extremely sharp, almost tearing my vocal cords apart.

“Give you memories… memories… memories… memories… memories…” In my ears, I heard the echo of Master Xianyun’s words, reverberating intermittently, as if I were in an endless tunnel. I had no sensation, no thoughts, only the monotonous echo of his voice.

"Pfft, pfft, pfft—" Master Xianyun suddenly spat out three mouthfuls of blood, as if someone had suddenly splashed ink and painted a large, blood-red plum blossom on the milky-white stone floor. Guijianchuan stood there woodenly, his gray clothes also stained with a long trail of blood.

“Memory…” These were the last two words Master Xianyun managed to utter with great effort.

"So, will I still have any special abilities in the future?" Zhang Baisen, who had been almost forgotten, asked in a bewildered voice.

Suddenly, Gui Jianchuan threw his head back and burst into laughter. His laughter continued, and with a leap, he vanished from the top of the west wall with lightning speed.

Zhang Baisen stared blankly in the direction where Master Xianyun had disappeared, as if he had suddenly lost the will to live.

I paused for only a few seconds before sprinting down the tower. In my mind, since the "Tower of the Dead" was said to be located beneath the "Underwater Tomb," I could at least see some clues, especially when the water had just receded.

There are at least a thousand fictional stories worldwide about how to enter the "Underwater Tomb," more than half of which originated in Japan. Legends are ultimately just the fantasies of bored people; once you actually reach the foot of the tower, all you see is stone, and more stone.

The first level of the pagoda was completely dry. I suspect that the milky-white stones used to build the pagoda and pave the square have some kind of "absorbent paper" function. Since they can absorb water, they can certainly "exhale" water as well. The recent flooding of the pagoda was undoubtedly "indispensable" for these stone materials.

Without hesitation, I stepped into the tower and stood in the center of the smooth, clean stone floor. To my right was a narrow white stone staircase leading to the second floor, and then the walls were empty, offering nothing of note. The walls bore the marks of weathering from the acidic and alkaline substances in the air, devoid of any decorative carvings or paintings.

The stone slabs paving the ground were perfectly smooth. The only strange thing was how clean the tower was, as if it had been washed clean from top to bottom. During my travels around the world, I've seen countless pagodas, castles, stone houses, and other ancient buildings. At least those buildings had the dust and sand accumulated over the years on their floors and walls, and even with daily cleaning, they could never be as clean as the "Tower of the Dead" before me.

This state gives me the illusion of being "extremely fake," meaning that the "Tower of the Dead" is like a plastic sculpture in a bonsai, kept so clean by constant washing with water.

Located at the northernmost point of Hokkaido, Mount Mokuwan is exposed to the winds that rush in from the northern sea, stirring up wind-eroded dust and sand all over the mountain. How could it possibly be deliberately kept so clean?

Comparing the surrounding eaves and roofs, I noticed in the afternoon that a thin layer of dust covered the roofs without exception.

Looking at the staircase leading directly to the second floor, I hesitated whether to go straight to the top of the tower to take a look. Master Shenbi, along with the three monks Elephant, Lion, and Tiger, hurriedly came over and followed closely behind me, clearly with hostile intent to "monitor" me.

This level has four doors leading to the southwest, northwest, northeast, and southeast. Coincidentally, the direction in which the pagoda's doors open is consistent with the overall orientation of Fengge Temple, which is 30 degrees south of due west.

I turned around and carefully observed the ground, walls, and overhead, but still found nothing.

There are at least ten Buddhist temples and pagodas of this size throughout Japan, and at least in my eyes, I don't see anything extraordinary about this one.

Heimi's mutilated body had been removed and taken to another Buddhist hall specifically for cremation. No one could explain why the flames could not be extinguished in water, so the wise Japanese monks unanimously chose to remain silent.

If I don't make any new discoveries, I'll have no choice but to leave, since Anzi is waiting for me outside Fengge Temple.

Zhang Baisen walked over, looking utterly dejected, and stood before the southwest gate of the pagoda, staring at me as if waking from a dream. He seemed to have aged more than ten years in an instant, with white hair rapidly spreading at his temples and forehead. I began to wonder if his morbid dependence on Master Xianyun might lead to a double collapse of his mind and body—

As my gaze moved upwards from his head, streaked with white hair, I suddenly spotted a corner of a flag atop the roof of "Shentou Town," hidden among the many eaves, rooftops, and walls. Perhaps it was just an illusion, because the first level of the pagoda was at least four meters lower than the outermost wall of Fengge Temple; a line of sight couldn't possibly travel that far in the darkness. I just felt that from this direction, the light must be pointing directly at the dark houses of Shentou Town.

A strange inspiration struck me, and I immediately turned 180 degrees, my gaze landing on a solitary, milky-white house. The house was built amidst a large thicket of bushes, also made of the same milky-white stone. It wasn't large, only three stories high, square and neat, like three "口" characters stacked together.

The dark, low bushes in winter made the white house look even more strange and out of place.

“Where is that…?” I asked a monk, pointing to the white house.

“That’s—the ‘Meditation Hall,’ the place where Uncle-Master Gu Ye cultivates alone.” The monk was busy searching blindly with his head down, and answered casually, not having time to look up.

A pang of pain shot through my mind as I recalled the tragic death of Tano no Shenzhi in the desert. Having consumed the "nineteen relics," Tano no Shenzhi believed he could be reincarnated and live forever, only to be killed the moment he was resurrected, his death gruesome and horrific. So, where did the relics go? Were they digested by his stomach and intestines?

The news of his younger brother's death must have been sent to Tani no Shinshu in detail. I wonder if he still has the mind to continue his cultivation while grieving the loss of his brother.

If I'm not mistaken, the White House, the Pagoda, and Shentou Town are in a straight line. The most powerful attack of this "arrow piercing the heart" formation is aimed at a direction 30 degrees west of south, and its connection to Xunfu Garden is not obvious. I used to think that the "Tower of the Dead" arrow was aimed at Xunfu Garden, but it seems I overestimated my own importance.

The white house is about one kilometer away from the pagoda, separated by many corridors, side halls, and pavilions. The distance, calculated by curves, is definitely more than three kilometers.

"I...I'm going to visit Tanino Shinshu..." The thought made my shoulders tremble with excitement. Tanino Shinshu was a veteran in the tomb raiding world, far superior to his double, Tanino Shinshige, whom he sent to the desert. With his nearly thirty years of experience in tomb raiding, he could surely answer some of the questions that were weighing on my mind—if he was willing to tell me.

Perhaps my prolonged staring caught Master Shenbi's attention, for he took the initiative to come closer, adopting a serious expression: "Senior Brother Guye never meets with outsiders, I'm sorry." His expression seemed very "guilty," and his gaze was aggressive, as if he were about to "see the guest out."

As the abbot of Fengge Temple, he was reprimanded by Kamekawa in front of all the monks today, losing face completely. Perhaps he wanted to vent his anger on me.

I had no intention of provoking anyone. Once again, I witnessed the petty and narrow-mindedness of the Japanese, who were always "cherishing their own possessions and keeping to themselves." I had no choice but to tell Zhang Baisen to leave in a hurry. Even the monk sent by Master Shenbi to guide us was useless. We strode out of the temple gate.