Wusheng Laomu

When Chun Xiaoman brought up Xiucai Lü, Lü Zhuangyuan couldn’t even be bothered to finish his smoke. His face was a mask of pure outrage.

“Don’t mention that cursed star. He dared to steal money! If you run into him on the road, you tie him up and bring him back. I’ll break his legs myself!”

The two carts passed each other. Chun Xiaoman continued on into the village. The moment they reached the Bai family compound, Bai Lingmiao jumped down and headed straight for the ancestral hall.

“Xiaoman-jie, you rest first. I’m going to light some incense in the hall.”

Chun Xiaoman looked around anxiously, then called out to Gouwa, who was passing by. “You! Take this cart to the stable.”

“Why me? Do I have ‘groom’ written on my face? My wife is pregnant! I need to go make her some egg custard!”

Chun Xiaoman reached out and shoved the horsewhip into his hand, ignoring his protests as she hurried toward the Bai family ancestral hall.

When she crossed the third threshold and saw the rows of black spirit tablets, Chun Xiaoman’s breathing grew quieter. Her eyes carried both curiosity and wariness as she took in this place she had never visited before.

To be honest, apart from Bai Lingmiao, the others rarely came near here. Behind their backs, they always said the place felt gloomy and cold.

Seeing that Bai Lingmiao was genuinely just kneeling in the center of the hall, bowing to the tablets, Chun Xiaoman let out a breath of relief and began to look around.

There wasn’t much to see, really. The hall was empty—nothing leaned against the walls except a few objects, and there wasn’t even a single stool to sit on.

She glanced again at Bai Lingmiao, who was kneeling there murmuring something softly under her breath. Chun Xiaoman’s eyes swept over the items on the tables.

Coming from a modest household, Chun Xiaoman couldn’t make heads or tails of these strange displays. What was their significance, anyway?

Just some bizarre stones laid out on plates, a few brightly colored ceramics—why did people insist on putting this sort of thing in a room?

She looked them over one by one until her attention was caught by a bronze ornament in the center, no bigger than a palm.

It was three monkeys squatting side by side. One covered its ears with its hands, one covered its eyes, and one was pounding its own head with a fist.

“What do these three monkeys mean? Why do rich people always have these things you can’t understand? They’re kind of cute, though. Exquisitely made.”

Chun Xiaoman walked over and reached out to pick up the little monkey for a closer look. But the moment she touched it, she found she couldn’t lift it.

“Huh? Is it stuck to the bottom?” She gave it a little shake left and right, and then the monkey suddenly slid to one side.

A grinding rumble followed. A large section of the spirit-tablet wall beside her swayed and collapsed, revealing a pitch-black opening that exuded a chill.

“Father!” Bai Lingmiao rushed forward, distraught, and began picking up the fallen tablets one by one, holding them to her chest. But halfway through, she stopped. She stared at the black hole, as dumbstruck as Chun Xiaoman.

As if drawn by something, Bai Lingmiao moved toward the opening as if in a trance.

A figure brushed past her and stepped into the dark void first. “Stay here. I’ll go have a look.”

After a moment, Chun Xiaoman’s head reappeared from the opening. “There are words carved all over the walls inside. Go get Gao Zhijian!”

Not long after, Gao Zhijian entered the Bai family ancestral hall, clad in half-armor with a stone slab hanging from his chest, gripping a heavy spiked club. He looked fully armed.

“No need for that. Since it’s the Bai family hall, there shouldn’t be any real danger in there.”

“J-just… just in case!” The towering Gao Zhijian stepped in front of the two women and entered first.

The black space inside was vast. The words carved into the wall made Gao Zhijian freeze on the spot.

“MUD ORIGINATES FROM THE CHAOS OF THE BEGINNING! THE WHITE LOTUS APPEARS, AND A GOLDEN AGE ARISES!”

He looked up. Above him hung white streamers printed with lotus flowers.

“Isn’t this the Bai family ancestral hall? How can there be something like this behind a hidden door?” Gao Zhijian was deeply bewildered.

He didn’t know exactly what these things were, but the feeling was all wrong.

“Don’t just stand in the middle of the path blocking the way. Keep going down.”

Urged on, Gao Zhijian tightened his grip on his weapon and walked forward slowly, one step at a time.

From the steps underfoot, he could tell they were descending.

The hidden chamber was very large, and the phrases that appeared on the walls from time to time only deepened his unease.

“THE WHITE LOTUS DESCENDS TO THE MORTAL WORLD! THE TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE ARE REBORN!”

“WUSHENG LAOMU! NATIVE LAND OF TRUE EMPTINESS!”

Every time Chun Xiaoman asked what was written on the walls, he just shook his head in reply.

After several turns, the stairs finally ended. A vast, pitch-black emptiness stretched out before them. The green fluorescent stones in their hands could only illuminate a tiny patch of their surroundings.

“G-get… get to the wall! B-be… be careful!”

Gao Zhijian pressed himself against the wall and felt his way along. His hand touched a book. By the faint glow, he began to read.

The script didn’t look modern, but he could still understand it. It was the content that was hard to grasp.

“Gao Zhijian, what do you see? Don’t just stare—say something! You’re driving me crazy!”

Prodded and poked by his companions, Gao Zhijian stuttered and stammered, translating the content on the page into words they could understand.

Wusheng Laomu is the primordial Buddha of Heaven, without birth or death! She can deliver us mortals from the dust and return us to the Native Land of True Emptiness, sparing us from all suffering!

Everything in this world should have belonged to Wusheng Laomu! Every inch of earth and every inch of sky was once the Native Land of True Emptiness.

We were born, grew, and aged under the protection of Wusheng Laomu. Until someone betrayed her! Those closest to her, the blood princes she trusted most!

When the armies of the Unspeakable grew from Wusheng Laomu’s dantian, a cabal of blood princes turned traitor.

They conspired with the Unspeakable armies and betrayed Wusheng Laomu! They killed the blood princes who refused to betray. They stripped Wusheng Laomu of everything!

What they didn’t want, they threw away. What they needed, they swallowed. And in the end, they all shamelessly stood in the place where Wusheng Laomu should have been!

These oath-breakers were terrified that their infamy would be discovered, so they rewrote history. They rewrote the history in everyone’s hearts.

But not us. Our history forever belongs to Wusheng Laomu. We will remember always. We will wait for the moment when Wusheng Laomu returns!

Wusheng Laomu cannot be born, and so she cannot die. It seems that she has been stripped of everything. But that also means that Wusheng Laomu can never lose anything again.

When a man is covered in wounds, he can never receive a new one. When an existence has been stripped of everything, it can no longer be stripped of anything more!

Wusheng Laomu is forever trying. Whether day or night. Whether through men or women. Whether through yin or yang.

Those backstabbing rebels are watching. They are afraid. They ceaselessly block the Wusheng Laomu who is always with us.

They can send their dogs to stop us forever. But it doesn’t matter. As long as we succeed once, Wusheng Laomu will, on six ceramic horses, return in broad daylight to the seat she should rightfully occupy!

No matter how long it takes, I will wait. As the sole surviving blood prince, even if I am killed, the son who crawls from my corpse will go on waiting.

If my son dies, there will be my grandson. Generation after generation, we will wait forever!! Wusheng Laomu! Native Land of True Emptiness!