A Secret (GL) - Chapter 29

Gu Shuge listened very intently. Her head was bowed, so she didn’t notice the old monk’s gaze drifting toward her, but she felt as if she were in an episode of a ghost story.

Since her death, this modern world of high technology had suddenly shifted its face. First, she remained in the living realm as a ghost; now, this high monk was actually claiming a ghost could cultivate a physical body. This was far too mystical. If a ghost could grow a body, wouldn’t that be a resurrection? Would the distinction between life and death even exist anymore? She felt certain the monk was telling tall tales.

Shen Juan didn’t think that far ahead; she couldn’t think that far ahead. She was firmly locked onto one word: Body.

Her fingertips trembled slightly. Gu Shuge felt it and looked at her with concern.

“Master, please explain in detail how to cultivate a body. Where does the spiritual energy come from?”

The monk sighed, muttering “lost in obsession,” and then said earnestly, “It cannot be cultivated. Where is there spiritual energy left in this world? The Soul-Nourishing Buddha can only nourish the soul-form. After several decades, perhaps it can nurture a shadow, allowing you to see her. But even then, only you will see her; to others—aside from those with extraordinary abilities—she will still be invisible.”

Allowing her to see her. Shen Juan’s heart skipped a beat. She only heard the possible outcome; as for the difficulties in between, they didn’t even register in her ears. She said softly, “Let go for a moment.”

No one there thought it strange that she was speaking to the air.

The old monk’s expression remained unchanged as he remarked, “You have even found a method of contact; no wonder you are so obsessed.” Seeing a glimmer of hope was entirely different from facing total darkness. With hope came the courage to continue.

Gu Shuge was startled by his words and didn’t dare let go, but since Shen Juan had asked, she bolstered her courage and cautiously released the two fingers she was gripping.

With her left hand freed, Shen Juan opened her bag, took out a check, and handed it to the monk. “How do we obtain spiritual energy?”

The monk took the check and sighed. Guangping Temple was situated deep in the mountains; it usually received very little incense money and couldn’t attract many followers. Yet the little monks in this temple were flesh and blood—they still needed to eat.

“I only know that there is spiritual energy within the essence of the sun and moon, but as for how to specifically absorb or practice it, I do not know.” This was the truth; he genuinely didn’t know. “Senior Brother Jingyun surely knows something. Also…” He thought for a while before saying, “Bailong Temple in the city has the largest collection of scriptures. Their library is usually not open to the public. Given your status, Benefactor, staying in the library for a while might have been difficult at Bailong Temple a hundred years ago, but with today’s Bailong Temple, you will certainly find a way.”

Gu Shuge understood his meaning immediately: he was criticizing Bailong Temple for having no Buddhist integrity and bowing to money and the secular world. You are the same, though; you just took Shen Juan’s check, she thought snidely.

Shen Juan asked for the specific direction and memorized it firmly before finally addressing the purpose of today’s visit: the Wicked Thought. Since she now knew about the Soul-Nourishing Buddha, she asked, “Does the Soul-Nourishing Buddha have the effect of clearing away wicked thoughts?”

The old monk knew the answer to this one. He replied, “No. Whether it is a human cultivator or a ghost cultivator, there is a hurdle they cannot cross: the Heart Demon. A wicked thought is a type of Heart Demon. The Soul-Nourishing Buddha has no use for that; Heart Demons can only be overcome by oneself. Once overcome, one’s cultivation can reach a higher level.”

As he spoke, he swept another glance behind Shen Juan. Gu Shuge was so spooked by the look that she hurriedly grabbed Shen Juan’s finger again.

“If a ghost cannot overcome the wicked thought, their original virtuous nature will vanish, and the ghost becomes an evil spirit. If they do overcome it…” The old monk looked at Gu Shuge with surprise, frowned, and said, “In this era, I have not yet heard of a ghost capable of overcoming a wicked thought.”

Gu Shuge felt this was a compliment on her strength. Having finally gained a bit of confidence, she straightened her back and felt less afraid.

“However, among ghosts, there are those who are cunning and devious, skilled at camouflaging themselves as virtuous spirits to deceive people,” the monk added.

Gu Shuge’s newfound confidence vanished instantly. She felt even more afraid and quite aggrieved; she wasn’t pretending to be a good ghost to deceive Shen Juan—she was good. In her fear, she squeezed Shen Juan’s fingertip, urging her to leave quickly.

“Don’t scare her. She’s timid,” Shen Juan’s voice rang out clear and cool, tinged with a bit of a smile.

Only then did Gu Shuge realize he was teasing her. She felt the old monk was quite improper, scaring even a ghost.

The monk laughed as well. Once finished, he asked, “What is this little ghost to the Benefactor, for the Benefactor to be so protective of her?”

He asked so suddenly that Gu Shuge’s heart leapt and then sank. A younger sister, of course. What else am I hoping for?

Shen Juan thought that her previous examples hadn’t been bold enough. This time, she wanted to be bolder. But even as she told herself to be brave, her heart grew chaotic. She forced herself not to look back and said with great solemnity: “She is someone very special.”

Gu Shuge’s ears began to ring, a buzzing sound filling her head.

“I see,” the monk said. “This little ghost is someone very special to the Benefactor.”

He repeated it as if afraid the ghost wouldn’t hear clearly. Gu Shuge’s ears rang once more.

Shen Juan had her back to Shuge, but her cheeks were slightly flushed. Surrounded by white snow, the crimson on her face looked like a rain of peach blossoms falling in mid-spring.

The old monk smiled, thinking this was well worth the Benefactor’s check.

Joking aside, there was still business to discuss.

The monk said, “Wicked thoughts are hard to clear, but there are ways to suppress them. Ultimately, the wicked thought is a part of her; therefore, whatever the little ghost feared most in life, the wicked thought will also fear.”

Shen Juan had considered many scenarios, but she hadn’t expected this. The Soul-Nourishing Buddha couldn’t restrain the wicked thought, so what the wicked thought actually feared… was her. Her index finger twitched slightly.

Gu Shuge was still stuck on the phrase “someone very special” when she noticed the finger move. Afraid of losing her grip, she hurriedly grabbed it back even tighter.

Shen Juan stayed still, letting her hold on, and asked, “Since it can only be suppressed, does the wicked thought remain inside her?”

“Correct. The two coexist,” the monk offered an analogy. “It is like a double personality, but the situation is better than that psychiatric illness. Double personalities are uncontrollable; the sub-personality knows not when it will emerge to cause trouble. A wicked thought is controllable. By suppressing it, one can act as if it does not exist.”

With that, the matter of the wicked thought was finally clear.

The monk had stood outside the temple for so long without once inviting them inside. He knew the little ghost could not cross the threshold. This barrier wasn’t set by him—he didn’t have the power to set such a profound restriction. Rather, Guangping Temple had a “Buddhist Fate”; over thousands of years, it had cultivated a Buddhist light, and thus the barrier appeared naturally.

With their questions answered, and seeing that it was getting late and they needed to reach home before dark, Shen Juan took her leave.

As she turned around, the monk hesitated but couldn’t help calling out to her back: “A physical body is difficult to cultivate; it takes at least a thousand years. The Benefactor is a mortal with a lifespan of barely a hundred years—less than a tenth of that time. Your efforts will surely be in vain, like drawing water with a wicker basket. Furthermore, when a person dies, the lamp goes out. Descending to the Underworld and entering reincarnation is the correct path. I see this little ghost has an upright gaze, a brow of auspiciousness, and is surrounded by clouds of virtue; she has the face of wealth and rank. She will not suffer in reincarnation and is destined to be reborn into a wealthy family. Instead of binding her to the human world and wasting her time—and letting the Underworld courts find out, marking a sin against her and ruining her bright future—it would be better to let go and let her go.”

Shen Juan’s footsteps paused, but then she continued forward.

Gu Shuge felt a bit dazed. Can I still reincarnate? It sounded like she could even get a “wealthy” rebirth. Since her death, she hadn’t given a single thought to reincarnation.

She stole a glance back. The monk had already returned to the temple, a corner of his kashaya robe disappearing past the gate. Suddenly, her grip felt empty—Shen Juan had pulled her hand back. Gu Shuge felt as if her heart had gone empty too. She quickly caught up to Shen Juan and grabbed her finger again. Only then did she feel grounded.

Although Shen Juan was fast, it was already noon when they left the city. After talking on the mountain, and given how early winter night falls, they were still halfway home when it turned dark at 5:00 PM.

Shen Juan worried about the moonlight hitting Gu Shuge. A ghost has heavy Yin energy, and moonlight is Yin; being hit by it would trigger the Yin Malice, which would attract soul-catchers. She looked at the road ahead and said, “Xiaoge, sit in the back. Sit behind me.”

Gu Shuge obediently sat in the back. Shen Juan lowered the sunshades on both sides of the car so the moonlight couldn’t get in.

Though she was in the back, her heart was on the passenger seat where she always sat.

“Tomorrow, we’ll go check out Bailong Temple,” Shen Juan said, looking ahead, afraid Shuge was bored.

Her hands were on the steering wheel. Gu Shuge wanted to draw a checkmark in her palm to say “Okay,” but she couldn’t reach.

Shen Juan realized this too and said, “Alright, tap once on my shoulder for ‘yes,’ and twice for ‘no’.” The heater was on in the car, and she had taken off her coat, wearing only a white turtleneck sweater. If Gu Shuge tapped firmly, she would definitely feel it.

So, Shuge reached out to tap her shoulder, but her hand passed right through Shen Juan’s body.

The blood on her finger was gone again.

Gu Shuge was confused. How could the blood be gone? She hadn’t done anything; since dipping her finger, she had only held Shen Juan’s finger. Could my fingertip be actively absorbing the blood?

Shen Juan waited a while without a response and realized what happened. She pulled the car to the side of the road, took the glass dish from her bag, opened the lid, and passed it to the back.

About thirty seconds later, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

They were still in the outskirts; the road was pitch black, with only passing cars and no people in sight. Being tapped on the shoulder out of thin air—even knowing it was the little ghost in the back—would make a normal person panic.

Shen Juan, however, calmly put the dish away and even offered a slight smile, praising the ghost: “So good.”

Being praised made Gu Shuge feel quite proud. She sat up straight, but in her heart, she thought back to Shen Juan’s words outside the temple gate: “She is someone very special.”

It was past 7:00 PM when they reached home.

Gu Shuge was still thinking about that phrase. What kind of special is “very special”?

Shen Juan has no relatives; to her, relatives must be very special too, right? So a younger sister is also a very special person.

But if it were a sister, she could have just said so, instead of saying it vaguely.

Wait, Buddhists like being cryptic. Maybe Shen Juan was just matching the atmosphere by being vague, when she really meant “sister.”

Gu Shuge was so conflicted she felt she was going to lose all her hair.

Shen Juan sensed that the little ghost in the back was having “projected emotions” again—a pile of tangled yarn, messy and chaotic.

What does this mean? Shen Juan wondered. This emotion seemed quite complex.

As she thought, she told the little ghost to stay downstairs for a bit while she went up to change.

Gu Shuge agreed.

As soon as Shen Juan left, Shuge saw a plate of small biscuits on the coffee table. They were cookies, apparently freshly baked, each about the size of two fingers. You could pop one in your mouth in a single bite, and they looked exceptionally sweet and fragrant.

The chef must have made them today.

Gu Shuge bolstered her courage, walked over, and said to herself: I’ll use this plate of cookies for a divination to see if Shen Juan likes me.

She picked one up. The cookie looked small, but for Gu Shuge, picking it up felt like holding a professional athlete’s discus—incredibly heavy.

She used all her strength to shove it toward her “mouth,” and the biscuit fell right through her chin, landing on the floor. She didn’t care, saying solemnly: “One, she likes me.”

She picked up another and repeated the action.

“Two, she doesn’t like me.”

“Three, she likes me.”

…

“Eight, she doesn’t like me.”

The plate was empty. Shen Juan has a small appetite, so the chef naturally made only a few.

Gu Shuge’s brows drooped. Her heart took another hit. Shen Juan really doesn’t like me, she thought.

Footsteps came from behind; Shen Juan was back. Gu Shuge looked down at the cookies all over the floor, her heart filled with desolation. How am I going to explain this mess to Shen Juan?