Volume One: The Journey of the Outcast - Fiery Demon Slayer Chapter Twenty-Six: Monk Facing the Wall, Cause and Effect of the World

Chen San was so surprised that he was momentarily speechless. He had always assumed that "facing the wall" simply meant meditating in the Zen hall, seeking enlightenment. Who could have guessed it was such a miserable affair—nearly twenty years alone on the rear mountain, exposed to the wind and sun every day. Just thinking about it made it seem like a punishment. He wondered what mistake this monk had made to subject himself to such torment.

Little did Chen San know, the monk's long years of facing the wall were, in large part, connected to Chen San himself.

“Abbot, how about letting me deliver the meal today? Maybe I can persuade him to come with me to exorcise the demon in Chen Family Town. Since the old Daoist specifically asked for him, perhaps he’ll give the old man some face.”

“Little master, you may try. Perhaps he’ll let go and agree to descend the mountain with you.”

With the abbot’s permission, Chen San carried the vegetarian meal and followed the young novice toward the rear mountain. Passing through several Zen rooms and vegetable gardens, they arrived at the back of the mountain. All the way there, Chen San was contemplating how to convince the monk to accompany him to Chen Family Town.

When he had left Chen Family Town, Chen San had worried the monk would ignore him. He’d asked the old Daoist how best to persuade the monk to leave the mountain, and the old man had simply replied, “Tell him it’s about Chen Family Town. He’ll surely come.” Chen San had rolled his eyes at the time, thinking the old man unreliable—this monk had faced the wall for nearly twenty years, what did it matter if it was Chen Family Town or Sun Family Town? Didn’t even need to explain the matter? If the monk agreed, it would be a miracle. So he’d been anxious all the way, fearing he’d fail to bring the monk.

When Chen San arrived, the monk was indeed seated cross-legged on the ground, facing a stone wall. The sunlight beat down mercilessly; only the small tree beside him offered a bit of shade, but otherwise there was no shelter from wind or rain. Looking at the monk’s back, Chen San felt uneasy. To stay alone for so long, never descending the mountain—if it were him, he’d have gone mad. Shaking his head, he spoke, “Master, it’s time to eat.”

He said nothing else, wanting first to see the monk’s reaction. The monk, however, showed not the slightest response. Chen San turned to the young novice in confusion.

The novice pressed his palms together and explained, “Benefactor, my uncle is always like this. I’ve been delivering meals for five or six years, and he’s never spoken to me. I used to wonder if I’d done something wrong, but later I understood. Every time I come, I say, ‘Uncle, it’s time to eat.’ After a short wait, I leave the meal and return to recite sutras and clean. An hour later, I return for the bowls and chopsticks. Sometimes he doesn’t eat, but I collect it anyway and bring fresh food next time. Don’t blame my uncle; he’s been like a statue for many years, even the abbot gets no response.”

Chen San nodded, then addressed the wall-facing monk, “Master, I’ve come from Chen Family Town. There is evil wreaking havoc there. Please descend the mountain and help us slay the demon.”

The monk suddenly opened his eyes and asked, “Where did you say you’re from?”

Chen San felt nervous at this abrupt question, as if he’d done something wrong. Even the novice was startled.

“Chen... Chen Family Town, about ten days’ journey from here. A Daoist asked me to invite you to come and slay the demon there.”

“Who are you?” The monk’s brow furrowed. Though he hadn’t turned, the force of his presence unsettled Chen San.

“I’m Chen San, from Chen Family Town.”

“Why did the Daoist ask you to find me? How do you know him?” The monk’s tone was sharp, wasting no words.

“About ten days ago, something strange happened in town. Many died, and I barely survived. He saved me, taught me some life-preserving techniques, and told me to come here for you.”

“He taught you protective techniques? You’ve entered the Dao?” The monk stood and stared at Chen San in confusion.

“Entered the Dao? No, no, no—I still plan to marry, why would I become a Daoist? Come, Master, since you’ve risen, let’s eat. Holding the meal is tiring.”

The monk took the meal, sat cross-legged again, and gestured for Chen San to sit.

“What about your parents?”

“They passed away when I was very young. The old lady next door raised me.”

The monk was surprised but quickly recovered his composure. In truth, he’d long guessed—the youth before him, if the old Daoist taught him techniques and sent him here, was most likely the pitiful orphan from years ago.

“And the old Daoist, did he say anything else?”

“What would he say? Just told me to find you two, warned me to be careful on the road, nothing more.”

As they spoke, Chen San began to scrutinize the wall-facing monk, looking him up and down several times, finally fixing his gaze on the monk’s face.

“Why do you look so familiar? Have we met before? No, no, you’ve been facing the wall all these years, surely we haven’t met.”

The monk frowned and ignored him, eating quietly.

Suddenly, Chen San blurted out excitedly, “Ah! Old man, why did you become a monk? Where’s your hair? No wonder you look familiar.”

Chen San hugged the monk’s bald head, rubbing it all over.

The monk pushed him away with annoyance, “I’m not that Daoist; I’m his younger brother. We look similar. My Dharma name is Sui Chang; just call me Monk Sui Chang.”

Chen San’s eyes widened. If he remembered right, the abbot’s Dharma name was Sui Yuan, and this monk was Sui Chang—so they were of the same generation, senior brothers. How could he dare call him by name? He waved his hands hurriedly, “No, no, I wouldn’t dare. I’ll call you Master; you’re of the same generation as the abbot, I can’t address you directly.”

The monk didn’t object. “Call me as you like. Did you travel here alone?”

Chen San shook his head, “Not exactly. I set out alone, but encountered many ghosts along the way. After reaching Maoshan, I asked the head of Maoshan for someone to accompany me—one, to keep me safe; two, for company. Otherwise, it’d be too dull. The eldest disciple of Maoshan came with me. He’s still lying unconscious in the Zen room.”

The monk asked, “What do you mean, he hasn’t woken? Did you encounter something dangerous?”

“Don’t mention it—we nearly died at the foot of your mountain. Luckily, the old man taught me protective techniques, or we’d have been dead on the road.”

“That doesn’t sound right... The Maoshan disciple is unconscious, yet you’re here speaking to me? Are you stronger than him? I can't see it.”

Chen San laughed awkwardly, “Impossible, he’s much stronger. He’s Maoshan’s top disciple, very skilled. The demon we met wasn’t from the mortal realm, so he was nearly crippled.”

“And then?”

“Then I used the summoning technique the old man taught me. I don’t remember what happened after; when I woke, he was already unconscious.”

The monk was startled, “He taught you the summoning technique? Daoist summoning? How did you, an ordinary person, activate it?”

Chen San thought for a moment, “I think so, but maybe not.”

“How so?”

“When learning it, the old man said it didn’t have the Daoist’s five flaws and three deficiencies, but you could summon the spiritual consciousness of Daoist ancestors. So I don’t really understand.”

The monk leaned back, gazing at Chen San in surprise. “When did you learn it?”

“During those two days when he saved me.”

“Two days! You learned it in two days? With no Daoist foundation, how did you sense spiritual consciousness?”

“I was in soul form at the time. The old man took me somewhere—scared me to death. He had me sense the world. I don’t remember much after, but I can use the summoning technique now.”

“That’s all?”

“Mm, that’s all. But the old man only let me sense his soul, not others. Sometimes, though, other spiritual consciousness is so strong that I couldn't resist—I summoned others’ twice…”

Chen San hadn’t finished when a sudden knock landed on his head, hurting so much his eyes watered. Rubbing his head, he scooted away.

“Ah, you two brothers, always hitting people! Why did I run into you both?”

The monk scooted forward, “You didn’t listen to him. Do you know what happens if you summon another’s soul? Didn’t the old man explain? Was your head kicked by a donkey?”

Chen San rubbed his head as he recovered, replying, “He said, but isn’t it just not knowing if the soul is good or evil? Sometimes I had no choice—maybe because I’m not a Daoist, when I summoned the old man’s soul, he couldn’t use all his techniques. A few days ago I summoned him, but he was severely wounded in spirit. I don’t know how he is now.”

“What? He was severely wounded in spirit!” The monk’s eyes widened, then he closed them to sense.

As soon as he closed his eyes, a golden thread of spiritual power brushed over Chen San’s body, passing through him like a gust of wind. Chen San jumped, feeling something enter and then leave his body in an instant, followed by an emptiness within.

Stunned, he eyed the monk, thinking, This monk is something else. Though he didn’t understand techniques, he knew the monk was sensing the old man’s soul.

When Chen San used the summoning technique, he could do the same, but his soul couldn’t affect anything around him, not even a leaf. This monk, in just a moment of closed eyes, could sense the world, and his oppressive presence was unfathomable.

Monk Sui Chang opened his eyes, brows furrowed. “He’s still recuperating. What did you encounter that could injure his soul? Tell me what happened.”

“He’s alright? I’ve been worried the whole way. Yang Chengzi said he wouldn’t die from the injury, but I felt he was badly hurt. I feel guilty.”

The monk was not amused. “Yang Chengzi—is he Maoshan’s top disciple who traveled with you?”

Chen San nodded, “Yes, Maoshan’s eldest disciple, Yang Chengzi. We encountered two practitioners of evil arts.”

He hadn’t finished when the monk interrupted, “What? Practitioners of evil arts? How did you, an ordinary person, provoke them?”

Chen San sighed, “I didn’t provoke them! I was passing through a village on the way to Maoshan and met one there. I couldn’t fight him, so I used the summoning technique to call a powerful spiritual consciousness. After that, I don’t remember.”

“So the evil practitioner appeared in the village, and you happened to pass through?”

“Yes, yes, nothing to do with me. Later, a villager took me in. Yang Chengzi guessed that the summoned consciousness killed the evil practitioner. Then, in a forest, we met a woman—also an evil arts practitioner, apparently seeking revenge. The old man was injured then. I don’t know exactly how, but maybe Yang Chengzi can tell you when he wakes.”

The monk frowned, narrowing his eyes and pondering for a while.

Chen San didn’t dare disturb him, fearing another knock on the head, so he watched quietly.

The monk sighed, “Everything is fate. The arising and ceasing of karma are predetermined. Child, have you ever thought of becoming a monk?”

Chen San was startled. What was this? Just a few words and now he was being asked to become a monk? Was this the end of his life?

He hurriedly waved his hands in refusal, “Why would I become a monk? I still have someone I like in my heart. I’m not pure enough—no temple would want me. Don’t tease me.”

The monk shook his head, “In the unseen world, fate is decided. Amitabha.”

At this, Chen San voiced a question he'd held in his heart for a long time, “Master, now that you’re a monk, what is it you can’t let go of, to face the wall here for so many years? Could it be you have someone in your heart?”

He leaned back, expecting another knock, but the monk was calm, his eyes tinged with sorrow.

“There is someone in my heart, but not as you imagine. I’ll tell you after we slay the great demon in Chen Family Town. Now isn't the right time.”

Chen San felt disappointed—another “not the right time.” This monk was no better than the Daoist, always saying “not the right time.” Now, whenever he heard those words, he’d roll his eyes inwardly.

But after a moment, he grew excited. “Master! Are you agreeing to come with me to Chen Family Town?”

Monk Sui Chang nodded and continued eating.

Chen San finally relaxed. From the moment he’d arrived, he’d feared the monk wouldn’t go with him. Now, just as the old man said, with trouble in Chen Family Town, the monk would certainly descend the mountain. And so it was.

After finishing the meal, Monk Sui Chang handed the dishes to the novice and accompanied Chen San down the rear mountain toward the temple.

Though he hadn’t descended for nearly twenty years, the temple’s buildings, ponds, incense burners, and Buddha statues were mostly unchanged, save for some renovations. Familiar with the route, he headed straight for the abbot’s Zen room, with Chen San following.

The task was accomplished. Now all that remained was for Yang Chengzi to wake, and they could return to Chen Family Town. Chen San, hands folded behind his head, walked leisurely.

Inside the Zen room, the abbot sat upright on the mat, eyes closed in meditation. Monk Sui Chang bowed in greeting.

“Amitabha, brother, how have you been?”

The abbot slowly opened his eyes, joy on his face. “Brother, have you resolved your heart’s knot?”

Monk Sui Chang replied respectfully, “Brother, a great mistake has been made—it is my destiny. This knot cannot be untied. Perhaps descending the mountain this time will resolve it and allow me to make some amends.”

The abbot nodded, palms pressed together. “Gain and loss are decided in the hidden world. Be careful on your journey.”

Monk Sui Chang nodded respectfully, then said to Chen San, “I’ll wash and prepare myself. You go check on Maoshan’s top disciple; when he wakes, we can set out.”

Chen San quickly found the novice outside and asked him to lead the way to Yang Chengzi’s room. Seeing Yang Chengzi lying on the bed, covered in wounds, Chen San felt a wave of sadness and frustration. He’d only come to find two people—how could so much have happened?

They’d encountered so many fierce ghosts, demons, and evil practitioners. Thankfully Yang Chengzi was there, or Chen San would have lost his life long ago. Now, with Monk Sui Chang joining, he felt much better about the journey home.

At this moment, what Chen San most hoped for was not just more protection, but that nothing besides people would cross their path on the way home. Thinking this, he foolishly nodded to himself.

But then he remembered his promise to the abbot regarding Fu Family Village, and swallowed hard, a face twisted as if he’d swallowed a fly.

Frustrated, he looked at Yang Chengzi, then exclaimed with delight, “Weren’t you injured in your soul? I know the Calming Spirit Mantra—old man said it could heal the soul. Let me recite it for you.”

He found a stool, placed a mat, sat cross-legged, and began chanting.

Less than half an hour later, Yang Chengzi awoke, gazing at Chen San in surprise.

Chen San was still chanting with his eyes closed when Yang Chengzi grabbed his knee and sat up with effort, startling Chen San nearly off the stool.

Seeing Yang Chengzi awake, Chen San was delighted.

“Ah! You finally woke up. You’ve been unconscious nearly three days. Are we setting out or not? Look at you—getting injured by a little ghost. In the end, I had to save you.”

A smile appeared on Yang Chengzi’s surprised face.

“You’re full of yourself. I know your abilities. But I need to ask you something. Answer honestly—it concerns your life.”

Chen San was puzzled. “Tell me.”

“Recite the summoning technique’s incantation for me.”

“You know the summoning technique, don’t you? Why ask me? Just recite it yourself. Did you sleep yourself silly these three days?”

“I wanted to ask before. My summoning technique is passed down in the Daoist tradition; it only summons the spiritual consciousness of Daoist ancestors. How is it that yours can summon souls? And this time, what you summoned wasn’t a Daoist ancestor—its power could destroy heaven and earth. That’s not something Daoist summoning can do.”

Chen San was startled. “Nonsense—destroy heaven and earth? At most, it’s just stronger than the old man, nothing so dramatic.”