I Don t Want to Get Hurt, So I ll Max Out My Defense - Chapter 243

Chapter 244 Midlife Crisis

Translator: 549690339

Monk Liaowang was branded a Demon Monk and crucified on the rear mountain of the Thousand Buddha Temple.

Kneeling halfway to the ground, his clavicles were pierced by thick chains, his hands and feet bound, rendering him unable to move.

This place was high up, next to a cliff, almost every pilgrim visiting the Thousand Buddha Temple in the Western Desert could see Monk Liaowang’s figure. This was the punishment of the Buddhist Sect for him and also the suggestion of many righteous people.

They believed Su Mei’er would definitely come to rescue Monk Liaowang, nailing him to the cliffside would surely draw her out.

And destroying their good deeds wasn’t enough to quell the rage in their hearts, they wanted to chastise his spirit, to make this monk live forever in people’s contempt!

Atop the cliff, the Abbot of the Thousand Buddha Temple arrived near Liaowang with several young novices in tow.

“Liaowang, do you realize your mistake?”

“This disciple is guilty, for failing to persuade the people, leading them further astray, and causing great sins to be committed.”

Liaowang said.

“You consorted with the Demonic Woman of the Demon Path and even let her escape in front of all the heroes, that is your sin!”

A flicker of anger crossed the Abbot’s face, in the original plan, he too had a share in using Su Mei’er.

“Amitabha, the heroes were temporarily blinded by desire, this monk thought it necessary to help them rediscover their true selves, so that the heroes might discern good from evil, right from wrong,” Liaowang said slowly.

“Nonsense, the heroes fight demons and eliminate evil, it’s not for you to judge at will. This old monk sees that you still don’t understand your wrongdoing. Reflect on it well in this place, repent!”

Seeing Liaowang’s calm demeanor, the Abbot’s anger burned within him, and he threw down a few steamed buns before turning to leave.

The young novices behind him also glared hatefully at Liaowang, spat contemptuously, and turned to leave.

Liaowang looked at the steamed buns rolling on the ground, chanting the Buddha’s name silently in his heart.

His body was pinned down, unable to reach the buns, and the food would be wasted.

The young novices never brought steamed buns again, but fortunately, Liaowang still had energy within him. Although he couldn’t move, surviving was not a problem.

As the scenes changed, in the blink of an eye, seven years passed.

This mountain gradually became a forbidden area; for seven years, no pilgrims came, nor did any Buddhist disciples visit.

Liaowang became a sinner gradually forgotten by people, turning into the subject of their casual mockery and jokes.

During those seven years, Liaowang hadn’t moved an inch, accompanied only by the unchanging scenery and the howling of the wind through the valley.

His spirit quieted a lot, his Spiritual Platform clear and bright. He seemed to have understood much more about the Buddhist Law, reaching higher levels of enlightenment.

In the Western Desert, inside a tea house,

A middle-aged woman with a bamboo basket at her side sat by the window, chewing slowly. From her spot, she could just see the silhouette on the mountain peak.

“Mommy, look, there’s a person up there!”

The little boy at her side shouted excitedly, pointing at the figure on the mountain top.

“Baby, don’t look at that person, he is a Demon Monk who let a Demonic Woman from the Demon Sect escape, and he is being punished now!” the woman said.

“Why did he let the Demonic Woman go?”

“Because he’s not a good person, his heart is black. Baby, you must never turn out like him!”

“Don’t worry, Mommy, I will definitely not become like that. I will be a hero when I grow up!”

The boy, holding a pair of chopsticks, said with an excited expression.

“You’re such a good boy!”

The woman’s smile blossomed.

The middle-aged woman sighed, drained her cup of tea, picked up the basket, and headed in the direction of the Thousand Buddha Temple.

Atop the cliffside peak, Liaowang opened his eyes; he had heard a noise, someone was coming.

This was the first visitor in seven years.

The visitor was a middle-aged woman, looking to be in her forties or fifties, holding a bamboo basket with food and wine in it.

“Benefactor, I am a monk and do not consume meat or alcohol. I appreciate your kindness,” said Liaowang with a smile. He could sense that this woman before him possessed a pure heart, but her gaze upon him was somewhat peculiar.

“Monk, here in the Thousand Buddha Temple, everyone drinks wine and eats meat. Why do you abstain?” the woman asked.

“Each person makes their own choices, and mine is not to eat meat,” Liaowang replied.

“Just as you chose to help me escape that day, leaving yourself behind to bear the burden alone?” the woman pressed on.

Liaowang now knew who she was. After seven years without seeing each other, Su Mei’er looked vastly changed. The speed of her aging was too fast, unnaturally so.

“Indeed, this old monk must reflect on his sins here,” he said.

“Have you sought help from Old Lady Ghost?” she asked.

Liaowang looked at the woman before him, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Indeed, as you said, it was my choice. I promised I would save you, and I will,” Su Mei’er said, nodding slowly.

“How many years of your life did you sell to Old Lady Ghost?” he inquired.

“Thirty years, but it was not enough,” Su Mei’er replied.

“Benefactor, there is no need for such measures. This old monk is sincerely reflecting here, and even if you cut these chains, I would not leave,” Liaowang said.

“That’s your affair, but I—with my own will—only wish to save you!” Su Mei’er stated indifferently, placing a steamed bun into Liaowang’s mouth.

Liaowang chewed. It had been a long time since he had eaten, and he found the bun remarkably tasty.

An eerie silence fell upon the mountaintop, punctuated only by a monk gobbling down his food while the woman patiently fed him one steamed bun after another.

After half an hour, the basket of food was empty.

“Thank you for your kindness, benefactor. This is the fullest I’ve eaten in seven years,” he thanked her.

Su Mei’er said nothing, just quietly gathered the bowls and chopsticks and turned to leave.

“Monk, I’ll come again tomorrow,” she said.

Liaowang watched the woman’s receding figure, silent for a long time.

From that day forth, atop the cliff, Liaowang was no longer alone. Each day at noon, a middle-aged woman would come to deliver food, regardless of the weather.

The disciples of the Thousand Buddha Temple went from being wary to accustomed. The reason was simple; the woman told them that if the person above did not eat, he would starve to death.

As the heavens cherish all life, it is against Buddhist teachings to let a spirit die of hunger.

The middle-aged woman looked plain and aged—bearing no resemblance to the enchanting Su Mei’er who once bewitched all creatures—seeming quite ordinary. Over time, the monks came to regard her as a kindhearted pilgrim and let her be.

Besides, having someone deliver meals saved them trouble. If that demon monk above were to die, they indeed would be in an awkward position.

Half a year later,

the Thousand Buddha Temple experienced new changes.

One day, another person was brought to the mountaintop, still led by the Abbot.

This person was a young man, covered in blood and unconscious, but his eyebrows conveyed a heroic spirit, clearly no ordinary individual.

“Tie him up there!”

The chains were removed from Liaowang and driven into the young man’s flesh, securing him in place on the precipice, taking over the spot where Liaowang had been.

Liaowang understood that this man faced a similar plight to his own, having offended the righteous ones.

Turning around, the Abbot, with a compassionate gaze, asked, “Liaowang, it has been seven years. Do you now recognize your sins?”