Chapter 1 Eight Hundred Years Ago
Alright, I admitted it.
Eight hundred years ago, I wasn't very honorable.
My sister Bai She was such a love-brain. She insisted on a grand romance with a powerless mortal scholar named Xu Xian.
As a result, they ran into Fa Hai, this dead monk who seemed unyielding and determined to uphold justice for heaven.
The flooding of Jinshan Temple caused too big a commotion. We couldn't clean up the mess, and my sister ended up suppressed under Leifeng Pagoda.
What could I do? I was desperate too.
I couldn't beat him in a fight, and he wouldn't listen to reason. The only thing worth looking at on him was that skin, but he cultivated the most stubborn Diamond Zen.
Hah, Diamond Zen.
So I steeled my heart, gave a seductive look, twisted my waist and approached him.
Under the Buddha's green lamp, the thin gauze slid to my elbows. My cool fingertips traced his burning collarbone. I breathed like an orchid against his deafening heartbeat and asked him:
"Little monk, are you cultivating closed-mouth Zen? Why... won't you look at me?"
I was too lazy to recall the specific details.
Anyway, after that night, the Buddha light at the top of Jinshan Temple dimmed. His indestructible Diamond Zen heart shattered like dumpling filling.
At the time, I was only focused on the pleasure. I avenged my sister along the way, then slipped away, hiding my merits and fame.
Who would have thought! This monk held such a damn grudge.
He chased for eight hundred years.
From the Southern Song to the Republic of China, from moonlit nights to electronic clocks.
I dodged wars, hid in concessions, danced in the ten-mile foreign district, worked overtime in internet companies. Don't ask. Even demons needed to eat.
He, on the other hand, draped his kasaya, took his staff, and wherever he chased it was always the same: "Demoness! Submit to the law!"
Submit my ass.
Until that year, 1949, when heaven and earth changed drastically.
I didn't understand the specific heavenly rules, but with a rumble it seemed something was completely shut down.
Immortals and mortals separated forever. Spiritual energy dried up. The gods above could no longer descend, and mortals below could no longer ascend.
No more fun.
As luck would have it, during that time I was being chased by Fa Hai until I was fleeing in panic. I hid in an underground air-raid shelter, scrolling on my phone and reading news, perfectly missing the last bus back to the earthly immortal realm.
When I poked my head out, the spiritual energy in the world was as thin as watered-down liquor.
When I turned back, damn, my old enemy hadn't left either.
He stood at the entrance of the air-raid shelter, wearing that bright yellow kasaya that clashed with the era. In his hand the GPS locator beeped, its screen light illuminating his face that remained handsome yet gloomy after eight hundred years.
"Demoness," he stared at the screen without lifting his head, "the signal is weak."
I said, "... Master, you're quite trendy."
Who could tell me why an almost thousand-year-old antique could use a smartphone and even open GPS for precise tracking?
Did Jinshan Temple start online classes?