Chapter 76
Chapter 76: Love Springs From the Heart
The Fa Hua Temple.
Ancient bells rolled through the mountain air. Incense smoke curled beneath each upturned eave, drifting like pale silk.
Lin Qing Xuan climbed the stone steps in a moon-white monk’s robe.
His stride was steady, every footfall placed with care—yet his heart was in turmoil.
In the past, this path led to stillness.
Today, it felt like a blade.
A figure refused to leave his mind.
Xiao Man.
Her bright smile. The serious tilt of her face as she copied sutras. The warmth of her fingertips when she handed him a food box.
One scene after another, vivid enough to make his pulse stumble.
He tightened his grip on his prayer beads and tried to chant, but the scripture turned to her name the moment it reached his lips.
He felt ill.
Poisoned by a single name.
No cure. No escape.
He should have severed worldly ties and kept his six senses clean, yet he was being bound tighter and tighter by one woman.
Was this dependence born from the heart demon he’d been forcing down… or from the mortal heart in him that had never truly gone quiet?
“It’s the heart demon,” he told himself. “It has to be.”
But the words fooled no one—not even him.
The longing was real. The trembling was real. Real enough to frighten him.
He passed the mountain gate, circled the Main Buddha Hall, and headed straight toward the meditation rooms in the back courtyard.
Under a bodhi tree sat his senior brother, Zhen Su—a great monk known for his attainment—playing Go against himself.
Zhen Su’s brows were kind, his face serene, his presence steady in a way that made people breathe easier.
When he saw Lin Qing Xuan, he wasn’t surprised. He only lifted his eyelids and tapped the stone stool opposite.
“You’ve come.”
His voice was gentle, like spring wind.
Lin Qing Xuan sat and offered a Buddhist salute.
“Senior Brother.”
Zhen Su placed a white stone on the board.
Tap.
“You’re unsettled.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a verdict.
Lin Qing Xuan’s breath caught. Before Zhen Su, every mask felt useless.
He lowered his eyes to the grid.
“This disciple… is dull.”
“Take black.”
Lin Qing Xuan reached into the bowl and took a cold black stone. The chill in his palm did nothing to cool his chest.
“Play with me,” Zhen Su said, gaze still on the board. “Your moves have always matched your heart.”
“Before, you played steadily. You guarded more than you attacked. Your heart sought one thing: stability. Emptiness.”
“But today, you haven’t even placed a stone, and I can already taste the edge of killing intent.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s fingers tightened around the stone until it dug into his skin. He set it down in the corner.
Zhen Su looked at the move and shook his head.
“See? You’re unsettled.”
“This looks like initiative, but it’s riddled with flaws. You’re rushing. Your attack and defense are out of balance.”
He placed another white stone, calm and effortless, and sealed Lin Qing Xuan’s path.
“Qing Xuan—what are you afraid of?”
Lin Qing Xuan pressed his lips into a line.
He was afraid of falling.
Afraid years of cultivation would shatter in an instant.
More than that… he was afraid he didn’t want to turn back.
“Senior Brother,” he said at last, voice rough, “I think… I’ve been tangled by a heart demon.”
“Oh?” Zhen Su poured him a cup of tea and slid it forward. “Tell me.”
The tea was fresh pre-rain Dragon Well, its fragrance crisp and clean.
Lin Qing Xuan didn’t drink. He stared at the board and played again, the move sharp, almost reckless.
“I keep thinking of someone,” he said. “A woman.”
“The more I try to sever the thought, the faster it grows—like vines, binding me until I can’t breathe.”
“When I chant, the scripture becomes her name.”
“When I meditate, her face rises before me.”
“I feel like I’m losing control of that heart demon.”
Zhen Su listened without interrupting, his hands moving steadily. White stone after white stone fell, pressing Lin Qing Xuan into a corner.
Then Zhen Su finally spoke.
“You’re wrong.”
Lin Qing Xuan looked up sharply.
“Wrong how?”
“You’re wrong because you’ve mistaken your true heart for a heart demon.”
Zhen Su’s eyes were clear as water, reflecting secrets Lin Qing Xuan had never dared to name.
“Qing Xuan—what your heart clings to comes from the heart. That isn’t a demon. It’s your true nature.”
“You force it down. You defy it. You walk against it. That is what creates backlash—and that is when the heart demon slips in and grows.”
Lin Qing Xuan froze.
True nature?
The emotion that kept him awake, that tormented him… wasn’t a heart demon?
“But… I devote myself to the Buddha. I should be empty of worldly ties—”
“Have you taken vows?” Zhen Su cut in.
Lin Qing Xuan fell silent.
He practiced without tonsure. He had never truly left the world.
“Then you are still a mortal,” Zhen Su said, his tone earnest. “Mortals have feelings and desires. That is not strange.”
“Junior Brother, cultivation is not self-deception. Breaking your own nature by force is not cultivation. It is self-harm.”
“Be faithful to your true heart. Perhaps… it may even help your path.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s mind shook.
Each word struck like a hammer, cracking beliefs he’d clung to for years.
He looked down at the board. His black stones were surrounded, sealed tight, defeated beyond saving.
Just like his heart.
Trapped between advance and retreat, with nowhere to go.
Then a black blur dropped from the wall.
Whoosh.
Light as a ghost, it landed squarely in the center of the Go board—and scattered the stones into chaos.
A pitch-black cat.
Its fur shone like oiled satin in the sun. Its golden eyes held something lazy, eerie, and far too human.
It sat down with shameless ease and licked a paw, unhurried as a lord.
“Meow.”
Then a crisp, cocky boyish voice rang through the courtyard.
“I keep telling you he’s twisted.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s gaze snapped to the cat. Zhen Su’s brows lifted, amused rather than alarmed.
“When did you follow me?” Lin Qing Xuan demanded.
Zhen Su watched the cat with interest. “For your ‘demon’ to come here, your Buddhist affinity is indeed deep.”
He turned to the cat. “This is the Fa Hua Temple, sacred ground fed by countless offerings. Yang energy is thick here. You’re a small cat demon—aren’t you afraid your soul will be scattered?”
The cat stopped licking its paw and stared straight at him, golden eyes arrogant and unafraid.
“Demon?” it snorted, tail flicking. “I’m born from this Buddhist scion’s desires. You ordinary mortals insist on stamping me with a ‘demon’ name—that doesn’t make me one.”
It lifted its chin higher, brazen as daylight.
“Buddha and demon are one. Maybe he’s the demon, and I’m the true Buddha.”
“You people can’t see through anything, and then you blame us for being demons. Ridiculous.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s chest tightened. Buddha and demon are one—what madness was that?
Zhen Su didn’t take offense. Instead, he smiled, reached out as if to pat the cat’s head—
The cat dodged with a swift tilt, face full of disdain.
“Don’t touch me. This Young Master doesn’t know you.”
Then it turned its golden eyes on Lin Qing Xuan, contempt written plain.
“If you can’t let go of the maid named Xiao Man, just say so. Why act like you’re dying? Aren’t you tired?”
“Like is like. Miss is miss. What’s so hard?”
“You’re twisting yourself into knots. Even I feel sorry for you.”
“A man should be decisive! If you like her, chase her. If you want her, take her. Damn it—what kind of hero hesitates? Oh, right. You want to be a monk. Heroes aren’t your thing.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s face went hot, then pale.
In all his years, he’d never been so directly exposed—by a cat.
Zhen Su covered his mouth and let out a short laugh, eyes bright with appreciation.
“Little Hei cat,” he said, amused, “you have wisdom.”
He looked at the cat. “Stay. Debate the Dharma with me for three days.”
The cat tilted its head, considering.
“Debate the Dharma? What do I get?”
“Food, lodging,” Zhen Su said solemnly, “and dried fish.”
The cat’s ears twitched.
“Forget it. I’m going back to find Xiao Man.”
Zhen Su’s smile widened, curiosity sparking.
“Oh? This Xiao Man is that interesting? Then I’d like to meet her as well.”