Warring States Survival Guide
Chapter 60 - 33: Amitabha, the mountain mushrooms are delicious!

Chapter 60: Chapter 33: Amitabha, the mountain mushrooms are delicious!

Yuan Ye and the others waited a short while, and soon little monk Zhiru came in.

He was only about eight or nine years old, with a shaved head, no precepts scars, a fair face and red lips—a very handsome little monk, dressed in a "sweeping dung robe," walking in wooden clogs, making a rather fetching impression. (The "sweeping dung robe" was a type of monastic garment supposedly made from discarded rags as humble as dung, not because it was meant for actually sweeping dung.)

Besides, Japanese monks were quite wealthy; it was just a traditional name, not actually sewn together from battered scraps.

The moment little monk Zhiru entered, he put his palms together and bowed deeply: "Namo Amitabha, this little monk greets all of you, virtuous patrons."

"Praise Namo three times!" Maeda Toshimasa seemed quite familiar with him, responded casually and smiled, asking, "Little Master Zhiru, what brings you here today?"

Zhiru lifted his head, glanced around, his gaze landing curiously on Yuan Ye, but soon shifted back to the host, saying to Maeda Toshimasa, "My master heard that Nohara Shinken has arrived, and said the plum blossoms in the temple are at their best—he would like to invite Nohara Shinken over to enjoy them."

Truly worthy of being neighbors—Yuan Ye hadn’t been in Hosokawa Castle for half a day, and Hosokawa Guanyin Temple already knew.

"They wish to invite Lord Nohara to visit?" Maeda Toshimasa didn’t find it odd, nor did he mind. Hosokawa Castle and Hosokawa Guanyin Temple shared a close, mutually supportive relationship, and he didn’t presume to decide for Yuan Ye, instead glancing his way to let him choose.

Yuan Ye asked little monk Zhiru in confusion, "Does Master Hai Xin have other business with me?"

Zhiru again placed his palms together and bowed: "I do not know. Master only said the spring plums are at their peak."

Yuan Ye figured the temple must have patients too. Once they heard the "medical whiz" had arrived, they wanted to bring in a doctor for a look. Herding one sheep or two made little difference—it wouldn’t hurt to go, especially since he had nothing else to do.

Besides, the Buddhist temples of medieval Japan still held a certain appeal for him.

He thought for a moment, then stood up and said to Maeda Toshimasa, "In that case, I’ll pay my respects to Master Hai Xin and enjoy the temple’s spring plums."

"That sounds good!" Maeda Toshimasa had no objections. After all, Hosokawa Guanyin Temple was just on the far side of the village—if anything came up, Yuan Ye could be easily called back; it wouldn’t take much time.

So, Yuan Ye brought Akira along. Akira carried the medicine box and followed little monk Zhiru down the path.

All the way, Zhiru faithfully led the way, saying little—a very well-behaved child. As soon as Yuan Ye was out of Hosokawa Castle, he suddenly remembered something, fished two rice balls wrapped in hemp leaves from his robe, and handed them to Akira, speaking gently: "Here, have a bite to tide you over."

In these times, women didn’t eat at the table. Akira had knelt patiently behind him the whole meal, not even touching a mouthful. Such were the customs—he’d hinted that Akira could quietly slip away and eat, and no one would pull a sword on him; he didn’t really need a bodyguard. But Akira, stubborn as always, simply didn’t get his cues and didn’t budge.

He was always good to those beside him—after all, he needed people to help him work and sometimes shield him from danger. Being considerate day to day was smart; so now he simply took out some of his emergency "rations" from home and let her have a fill, just to keep her from getting ill from hunger.

The rice ball in front of her startled Akira a moment. She looked up at him, her gaze cool, but didn’t refuse his kindness. She lowered her eyes and reached out her small hand to take one rice ball, quietly nibbling, indicating that one was plenty.

Yuan Ye didn’t mind; he just wanted her to get a quick bite. Just as he was about to put the leftover rice ball back in his robe, he noticed little monk Zhiru gazing intently at it, Adam’s apple bobbing—he clearly longed for a taste.

"Well... this rice ball has meat floss inside." Yuan Ye lived "luxuriously" for these times, and was a bit picky—there had to be some special fillings, and this one contained shredded meat. He felt it might not be proper to offer it to a little monk—well, most modern Japanese monks have hair, wives, eat meat, and drink, but in the old days, who knows? At least this little Zhiru was definitely shaved bald.

Zhiru looked rather disappointed, but his nose twitched, and he gazed at the rice ball. "Really? Patron, don’t deceive a little monk!"

"It’s true!" Yuan Ye held it out for him to see, trying to show he wasn’t being stingy—he really couldn’t eat it.

Zhiru wasn’t shy at all. He took the rice ball, broke it open, eyes lighting up, and said softly, "There doesn’t seem to be any meat floss—it looks like wild mushrooms..."

"Wild mushrooms?" Yuan Ye didn’t believe it—the rice balls were prepared by Yayoi, and someone with her ’Innate Little Maid Saint Body’ would never make a mistake.

Zhiru had already opened wide and stuffed the rice ball in his mouth, mumbling, "It’s definitely wild mushroom. Monks do not tell lies!"

Yuan Ye was speechless for a moment, then chuckled and nodded: "Alright, it’s wild mushroom. I must have remembered wrong!"

"Amitabha, wild mushrooms are delicious!" Zhiru ate quickly, and when he finished, even licked his lips, clearly wanting more.

"Even if you like it, that’s all there is. I only brought two." Yuan Ye said with a smile, feeling a certain admiration for this little monk—nice, very promising, and impressively flexible on principles!

"Greed, ignorance, and anger are life’s three poisons; this little monk dares not ask for more!" Zhiru placed his palms together toward Yuan Ye, "Thank you, good patron. It’s been so long since I’ve had... wild mushrooms! Amitabha, thank you. May you attain the fruit of great wisdom and enjoy peace and happiness forever."

"Thank you for your kind words, little master!" Yuan Ye didn’t understand Buddhist doctrine in the least and had no clue what the fruit of great wisdom was, but seeing the little monk so solemn, he just smiled and returned the gesture.

......

Zhiru finished the rice ball, still savoring the taste, then quietly resumed leading the way, and before long, they arrived at the temple gate.

The gate was supported by four thick logs, topped with a double-eaved black-tiled roof, and flanked by three tiers of long blue stone steps—quite a climb for most. In the center hung a plaque inscribed with three Chinese characters: "Guanyin Temple," written in a truly elegant calligraphic hand.

Zhiru, being quite young and small, struggled up the first step, but still turned to introduce: "Patrons, these are the gate’s three steps—No-self, No-thought, and No-desire. Cross them, and you may seek liberation."

"I see, thank you for the explanation, little master!" Yuan Ye replied, tearing his gaze from the plaque. With his meager knowledge of Buddhism—mixed with stuff from light novels and Journey to the West—he casually asked, "So crossing this gate makes this place the domain of the Bodhisattva Guanyin?"

Zhiru, halfway up the stairs, froze. Akira also looked at Yuan Ye in astonishment.

Yuan Ye realized he’d misspoken but couldn’t figure out how, so he just played it cool and stepped through the gate himself—miscalculation! He hadn’t considered he’d have to visit Hosokawa Guanyin Temple and hadn’t asked Ah Man for advice; he’d probably just said something stupid!

People really shouldn’t talk about things they don’t understand—something to remember!

Akira, on the other hand, had often heard Ah Man mutter under her breath at night about how clueless Yuan Ye was—a sheltered young master always confused about common sense. Here he was, visiting others, yet couldn’t even tell who belonged to which sect—no doubt he’d say something even more outrageous later, which would be awkward indeed!

She hesitated a moment, then stepped up, eyes lowered, reminding him in a near whisper: "Noh—Guanyin Temple belongs to the Caodong Zen sect of the Southern School, which emphasizes self-cultivation and sudden enlightenment. Guanyin here represents seeking wisdom and liberation, not the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Temples where the name of Bodhisattva Guanyin is recited and the Twenty-Fifth Chapter of the Universal Guanyin Mantra is chanted are mostly of the Dharma Flower Sect, which aren’t found in Owari Province, and don’t get along with the Zen sect."

She wasn’t sure what to call Yuan Ye, so she hedged a bit, and wasn’t all that clear on the details of Caodong Zen, but she’d gotten the main idea across, and Yuan Ye quickly understood.

So that’s how it is. Still, this temple name is so misleading. Anyone unfamiliar with Buddhism would almost certainly think this was Bodhisattva Guanyin’s territory!

Didn’t Elder Jinchi and the Black Bear Spirit from Journey to the West live in the Guanyin Zen Temple?

But Zen Sect, Southern School, sudden enlightenment—

Those were Buddhist sects that came from China. He seemed to recall something from high school about the verse: "The Bodhi tree has no true form, the bright mirror is not a stand; fundamentally, there’s not a single thing—where does the dust alight?" Supposedly that was from the Southern School of Zen.

Terms like "a swift stick to the head" or "instant enlightenment" seemed to come from the Southern Zen School too.

So Hosokawa Guanyin Temple was that kind of place—smack someone with a big stick, "whoosh," enlightenment dawns, and poof!—they instantly become a Buddha?

Akira’s explanation was brief, but Yuan Ye quickly worked it out with some knowledge from later times, putting together just which sect Hosokawa Guanyin Temple belonged to. Now he was mentally prepared.

He’d always been one to learn when he didn’t know and change when he made a mistake. He immediately and sincerely told Akira, "Thank you—I understand now."

Akira glanced at him coolly, then dropped her gaze again, falling back half a step to continue following quietly.

Yuan Ye didn’t mind, and instead began mentally reviewing Zen verses and those classic Chinese stories about monks using verbal tricks—just in case he’d have to match wits with Master Hai Xin later. Since these were Zen monks, surely they loved chatting about this stuff?

He pondered this as he walked, not even glancing at the scenery, simply following Zhiru along corridors into the temple until they arrived at a meditation hall.

Outside the hall stood an ancient plum tree, its blossoms in full glory.

Inside, sandalwood incense drifted in the air, but there were no Buddha statues, only a bald old monk in his sixties, with white brows and beard, wearing seven-patch robes (robes sewn from seven pieces of cloth, the everyday attire of a grand monk), sitting cross-legged on a cushion, eyes closed in meditation.

Zhiru hurried forward two steps, bowed his head and put his palms together, "Master, Nohara Shinken has arrived."

Hai Xin the old monk opened his eyes, glanced at Yuan Ye—a flash of something sharp in his gaze—then bowed his head, chanting a long Buddhist invocation as he saluted: "This old monk was just meditating and failed to come greet you; I hope Patron Nohara will not take offense!"

"Not at all, not at all—it is an honor just to visit this sacred place!" Yuan Ye sat cross-legged on the cushion Zhiru had prepared, exchanged a few pleasantries, and waited for the Buddhist debate, ready for some verbal sparring. After all, even if the old monk wanted his doctoring, there would surely be a little polite chat first.

Sure enough, Hai Xin did not get straight to the point—first, he had Zhiru serve tea, asked after Maeda Toshimasa and Maeda Rikyu’s health, then spent a while praising Yuan Ye’s medical benevolence, lauding him endlessly—enough to leave anyone dizzy.

Yuan Ye had plenty of patience, and just went along. At long last, Hai Xin finally turned to business, wearing a look of deep compassion: "...Patron Nohara, with such compassion, you are truly a great force for good in the world. Have you considered selling your medicines elsewhere, to save even more lives?"

Yuan Ye blinked, his expression turning odd.

I’d spent all that time preparing discussion points, ready to banter on Buddhist philosophy with you, and you want to talk business?

Are you really a monk?