"I... I don't know..." My chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe as I crouched on the ground, my hands gripping the cracks in the bricks.
Mangrai pulled me up without a word, dragging me unsteadily toward Changlong Tower.
I felt as limp as a noodle, allowing Mangrai to pull me to the entrance of Changlong Tower. However, it was slightly better; having distanced myself from Flute Sound, that unbearable feeling began to fade away.
I gasped for air as Mangrai knocked on the door and spoke a few words in Thai loudly to the tower. Before long, the door opened, and a Monk looked at us warily. He peeked out to check around before joining his hands in prayer and stepping aside to let us in.
Once inside the tower, I could clearly sense a world completely different from outside. Everywhere I looked were golden Buddha statues of various sizes, each surrounded by a halo of sunset-like light. The sound of bells echoed down from the top of the tower, and before each statue sat a Monk, their expressions solemn as they quietly chanted with prayer beads in hand.
However, the beads of sweat on their foreheads seemed quite out of place for someone who had renounced worldly life.
"Mangrai, do you realize how serious the consequences are for barging in at such a critical moment?" The White-Bearded Monk sitting in the center opened his eyes and fixed his gaze directly on Mangrai.
What puzzled me even more was that the White-Bearded Monk spoke perfect Mandarin.
"Ajahn," Mangrai knelt on both knees and prostrated himself on the ground, responding in Chinese. "The evil Human Pupa has come again to seek the supreme Crystal Buddha at the tranquil Chiang Mai Temple. Although I have returned to lay life for many years, I am still a student of Ajahn and only wish to join Ajahn and Long Pi in resisting the Human Pupa."
I was stunned and couldn't grasp what was happening, but I clearly saw that after Mangrai finished speaking, several young Monks sitting nearby looked at him with disdain, while some even let out soft scoffs.
It seemed they held Mangrai in contempt but refrained from expressing it openly due to the presence of the White-Bearded Monk.
Sure enough, before the White-Bearded Monk could speak, a monk in his early thirties suddenly stood up with a "whoosh." His half-exposed muscles bulged as he pointed at Mangrai and began speaking rapidly in Thai.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the chanting monks burst into cold laughter.
Mangrai remained prostrate on the ground, silent, his old face flushed with embarrassment, trembling slightly all over.
I looked at Mangrai, who at his age resembled a mouse surrounded by a group of cats, shivering in fear. Thinking back to his earlier conversation with the White-Bearded Monk, I felt a surge of anger: "I don't know what happened, but he wanted to help! Why do you have the right to mock him?"
"Nan Xiaolou!" Mangrai growled softly, "Don't speak recklessly! This is something I must endure."
Hearing Mangrai say this only fueled my anger further: "A man should not bow his knee in submission! You're a grown man in your fifties; what else is there to endure besides death?"
One of the monks spoke loudly for a moment, seemingly understanding Chinese, and translated my words. The rest of the monks erupted into laughter.
"You don't understand," Mangrai lifted his head, suddenly looking ten years older. He sighed deeply, tears welling in his eyes. "I have violated the most serious precept of the Buddhist Sect!"
"In China, there's a monk named Ji Gong who drinks and eats meat every day. He has a famous saying: 'Wine and meat pass through the intestines, but the Buddha remains in the heart!' As long as one has Buddha in their heart, what do those damn precepts matter?" I had little knowledge of Buddhism but felt compelled to defend Mangrai against the solemn-looking monks who mocked my words. He seemed so pitiful now, completely losing the dignity he had when he first welcomed me.
As soon as I finished speaking, I suddenly recalled the most unforgivable and unbreakable precept in Buddhism. My thoughts became chaotic, and I could no longer continue.
"You were once the monk who practiced hardest and held the strongest faith," the White-Bearded Monk continued speaking in Chinese, looking at me intentionally or unintentionally. "Once you break the Lustful Precept, there is no turning back."
I thought to myself that it was just as I suspected—Mangrai had violated the Lustful Precept. Not only in Buddhism but in any country, "lustful" is not a compliment.
"Ajahn! I know I was wrong! For these years I've been repenting and practicing; I'm no longer who I used to be. Let me dedicate my life to the temple!" Mangrai shouted desperately. "And... and this person I've brought has a strong connection to the Human Curse Flute's sound. He is exactly who we need!"
"When we used the Huangzhong Sanskrit sound to counter the Human Curse Flute, I sensed it already," the White-Bearded Monk said, making a gesture as if to stand up. The Monk beside him quickly supported him, and I then noticed that the White-Bearded Monk's left leg was a wooden stick, extending into his robe.
"Fifty years have passed, and I never expected it to be another Chinese this time," the White-Bearded Monk smiled slightly. "But he doesn't have Red Eyes!"
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