Chapter Twenty-Five: All the Hidden Treasures Within the Mind of the Wind Crane

This was merely a small fragment among hundreds of visions. He saw another scene below—

A thousand eagles gathered, shrieking as they circled and dove, hovering around a solitary peak. Someone was bound to a wooden stake, while a dozen burly men, bare-chested and wielding sharp knives, stood watchfully nearby. Not far away, a silver armor and two crescent blades lay discarded. It was clear that the man in the armor was the same as in the previous vision. The outcome was obvious to anyone: the executioners took turns with their knives, severing flesh from the man and tossing it into the ravine. The eagles swooped down, snatching the human meat mid-air and soaring away. The wild laughter of the men and the shrill cries of the eagles tearing at their prey mingled together, but not once did the man scream as he was subjected to a thousand cuts.

Guan Wen’s throat tightened, and tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt with absolute certainty that the victim was someone he knew—perhaps even a family member. Forced to watch helplessly as that person suffered such torment, rage threatened to burst his chest. Yet he was powerless, for those events happened in times and places unknown.

Just twenty paces from the stake, a woman in white lay on the ground, her wrists and ankles bound to four wooden posts. She was awake; though she struggled desperately, the bindings made escape impossible. Her frantic efforts were because a man, his back to Guan Wen, approached step by step, his intentions unmistakable.

The woman did not cry or scream, but glared at her would-be assailant with furious eyes. If looks could kill, she would have slain her enemy a thousand times over. Her beauty was unparalleled, her features as if carved by a master sculptor, flawless and exquisite to the extreme.

Because of this, the scene Guan Wen witnessed was like seeing the most beautiful flower about to be ravaged by wicked hands—a sight that stirred overwhelming anger and was utterly intolerable.

In another vision, Guan Wen saw a world deep underground, boundless and shadowed. A person, hair and beard trailing to the ground, sat cross-legged, holding a small knife and slowly carving a stone. Countless miniature stone figures were arranged around him. His movements were so slow that Guan Wen realized this was someone unimaginably old, barely alive, repeating the action out of sheer habit.

The elder sat atop a massive round crystal, five meters in diameter, surrounded by silent underground rivers, the water level parallel to the crystal’s surface.

Further on, Guan Wen saw hills and valleys covered in multicolored prayer flags, stretching for hundreds of miles. Many Tibetans in new clothes lined the roads, gazing into the distance. Far off, a procession approached amid drums, music, and laughter. Soon, the leading horsemen drew near, each carrying a large flag embroidered with grand letters of the Tang Dynasty.

There was another time when Guan Wen saw a tall, imposing general in black armor, accompanied by two beauties, standing atop a mountain, holding a map and gesturing toward the horizon.

Most visions depicted one war after another in Tibet: blood and floating corpses filled every river and lake. History recorded only a fraction—perhaps one percent or less—of these conflicts; the rest had vanished into the ages.

Thanks to this miraculous Mani Stone Tower, Guan Wen glimpsed these histories in passing. Such an experience was impossible even for the highest lamas of Tibetan Buddhism.

Guan Wen’s eyes could no longer take it; his mind was dizzy, exhausted from absorbing too much knowledge too quickly.

At last, Guan Wen cried out, the visions abruptly vanished, and the relics and Mani stones fell from midair in a clattering cascade.

You have seen… you have seen what lies within the memory of the Wind Crane… cough, cough… The Scarlet Flame Master began to cough weakly.

Guan Wen took a breath and struggled to jump off the Scarlet Flame Master’s back, collapsing onto the pile of Mani stones.

I may not know who you are, but I know that at certain moments, these relics forged from the bodies of Buddhist sages will reveal their miraculous powers, imparting all their wisdom to us, guiding us to avoid mistakes and become the makers of history… The Scarlet Flame Master could hold on no longer and fell to the ground, his fingers trembling as he pointed to the scattered relics, sighing faintly, Now, can you tell which one you brought just now? Or, when I depart with regret, will you know what I leave behind in this room?

Guan Wen was long unable to speak, his chest filled to bursting, all because he had witnessed the terrible fate of the armored man. If he had the power to travel through time, he would have rushed straight to that valley of eagles, slain all enemies, and rescued the man—and the beautiful woman in peril beside him. Yet he knew that no one could change what had happened; however tragic, it was already history. The armored man had surely died atop the isolated peak, and the woman was doomed to her own misfortune.

The great figure pushed the door open, gazing at the chaotic spread of Mani stones, not with surprise, but with deep sorrow.

And you? Can you tell? the Scarlet Flame Master asked.

The great figure bent to pick up a relic, examining it closely. Yet only seconds later, the seemingly indestructible relic crumbled in his fingertips, falling as gray dust.

I cannot tell, but I know these are the fruits of generations of Tibetan Buddhist monks’ cultivation. They practiced in relay so that the immortal crystal of the soul would warn future generations: never become lost in the apparent tranquility of life; always prepare for adversity and guard against danger. I’ll have people clean this place—

That is not important, said the Scarlet Flame Master. What matters is to do what we can, with all our strength. Our task is to unite and subdue the demon.

Guan Wen’s mood had settled, his mind clear.

He distinctly felt, after witnessing the shocking visions brought by the relics and Mani stones, that he was no longer the traveling painter he once was. Before, his heart held only brush and canvas; now, he carried the world within him, his soul’s window fully opened.

Just as the famous verse by Chan Master Chai Lingyu of the Song Dynasty says: I have a bright pearl, long locked by dust and toil. Today the dust is gone, its light shines forth, illuminating ten thousand mountains and rivers.

Such sudden enlightenment cannot be expressed in words; all insight and understanding filled Guan Wen’s mind.

It is said that in the Song Dynasty, after a fall, Chan Master Chai Lingyu achieved great awakening and wrote that verse. Its meaning: each person possesses a bright pearl—clear self-recognition. Yet most fail to realize it, losing themselves in the currents of life. Until one day, they recognize their own pearl, and their life suddenly clears and brightens.

His days in Jinan—studying, painting, teaching, eating, sleeping, surfing the web, watching TV—represented the stage when his pearl was sealed by dust. When his spirit began to awaken, and he left everything behind to rush to Tashilhunpo Monastery, the dust began to recede. Now, after his experiences within the Mani Stone Tower, he had been utterly transformed, gaining a deeper understanding of Tibetan Buddhism’s great mission to subdue evil.

Master, what should we do specifically? the great figure asked.

Gather the sages from the Twelve Monasteries of Five Nations, and the leaders of Tibet’s major temples. Let everyone study the fragments of the thangka until they are pieced together. Since the wise ones left clues for subduing the demon, we must seize the opportunity and press forward, never stopping until our goal is reached. This time, no monastery should act too hastily, nor adopt an adversarial stance. All must maintain unity and cooperation in heart and body. In this critical moment, anyone who can help subdue the demon is a comrade. We must unite all possible forces; in this sense, Master Sky Eagle is not an enemy, but a friend.

The great figure, worthy of being Lhasa’s foremost sage, grasped the Scarlet Flame Master’s meaning in a few words and immediately turned to leave.

It was deep night, but under his arrangements, monks from various paths set out simultaneously. Within an hour, the sages from the Twelve Monasteries of Five Nations arrived by special vehicle at the courtyard.

A massive tent was erected in the yard, twenty meters long, fifteen wide, spacious and bright. Inside, ten dining tables were joined as one, laden with all manner of foods to suit the habits of different sages.

Besides these, the great figure called Tashilhunpo Monastery, summoning all middle and senior-level sages involved in the esoteric action.

Who can contact Master Sky Eagle? Now is the time to turn foes into friends, the great figure personally asked the sages.

Someone replied: Before coming, we phoned Master Sky Eagle, but he said he must first meet a friend, then come together. If it helps to piece together the Skeleton Thangka, he will spare no effort to participate.

During this time, Guan Wen stayed in a side room, rapidly sketching the visions he had seen beneath the Mani Stone Tower. These were firsthand experiences, requiring no effort to depict. Yet when he came to the armored man, his brush hesitated.

He could not explain the peculiar sense of familiarity, yet could not recall who among those he knew resembled the man so closely.

Can I shoulder the task of subduing the demon? He paused several times, frowning as he questioned his heart. The great figure, the Scarlet Flame Master, Master Sky Eagle—all renowned Tibetan Buddhist sages—could not accomplish this; could he?

Wind Crane entered, carrying a cup of tea, standing quietly by the desk.

Are you alright? Guan Wen looked up, concern in his eyes.

It was Wind Crane’s knowledge that had triggered his and the Scarlet Flame Master’s mystical exploration of ancient history, so he owed these visions to her.

Does it matter, good or bad? Wind Crane’s pale face showed a faint, bitter smile.

Of course it matters—we do not live for ourselves alone; we all carry a mission and must live well until our goal is achieved. Wind Crane, you are the most important in all this, Guan Wen answered sincerely.

Previously, the sages of the Twelve Monasteries of Five Nations had solemnly asked Guan Wen if he knew the location of the treasure cave. To them, the treasure belonged not only to Tashilhunpo Monastery, but to all Tibetan Buddhism; no one could claim it alone.

If luck favored them, Wind Crane could unlock another part of her knowledge and easily provide the treasure cave’s exact location, avoiding a wider treasure hunt. Thus, Wind Crane was the key to both the quest and the subjugation of evil; the clues were within her mind.

Then who am I? Wind Crane suddenly asked.

A tear slid from her cheek and dropped into the teacup.