The most secure job in Dajin

Chapter 564, Elevation of Mental State

After passing through a dark, fog-shrouded mountain forest, the ancient ruins that had only recently been discovered—an ancient Buddhist temple—finally revealed their true appearance.

It does not stand on flat ground, but rather is half-embedded on a steep cliff in an almost resolute manner.

The entire ancient temple rises layer upon layer along the mountainside, with the remaining halls and pavilions resembling a giant dragon coiled around it, stretching for dozens of miles.

The temples are all carved from a dark blue ancient rock. After countless millennia of wind and frost erosion and the erosion of time, the rock surface is covered with crisscrossing mottled cracks, like the withered and cracked skin of an old man, or like countless old wounds that cannot be healed.

Although most of the palaces have collapsed under the crushing weight of time, the remaining eaves and brackets still pierce the sky like an unyielding spine, exuding supreme solemnity as they look down upon all living beings.

The most breathtaking sight is the open-air Buddha statue that hangs halfway between heaven and earth in the very center of the ancient temple.

The Buddha statue is about 300 feet tall, sitting in a half-lotus position on a huge lotus platform. One hand is in the abhaya mudra (gesture of fearlessness), and the other hand is in the varada mudra (gesture of granting wishes). Its posture is transcendent. Although the outline of its face has been blurred by the years, it still exudes a divine sense of compassion for all living beings.

The original gilding on the surface of the Buddha statue has long since peeled away, revealing the cold, hard, bluish-gray stone underneath. But its eyes, amidst the swirling spiritual mist, still gleam faintly, as if traversing the silence of eternity, and compassionately gazing upon the myriad beings in this mortal world.

Amidst the desolation and deathly silence of these ruins, a faint yet incredibly resilient chanting of Buddhist hymns drifted on the biting mountain wind.

The voice was not human speech, but rather celestial music, reaching straight to the soul and cleansing the heart.

Just as Hua Changxi was immersed in the solemnity and grandeur of the ancient Buddhist temple, a sudden, sharp sound shattered the tranquility, abruptly pulling her back to reality.

"Clang~"

The clanging of weapons clashing and the booming of spiritual energy exploding rose and fell, surging forth from the ruins of the ancient temple.

This pure Buddhist temple, meant to save all sentient beings, was instantly transformed into a bloodbath.

Dozens of groups of people, like wolves that have smelled blood, ranging from three to five to dozens of people, are frantically looting and killing in this ancient temple.

The shimmering light of the magical artifact intertwined with the dazzling blood, staining the dark blue ancient rock with mottled marks.

Hua Changxi frowned slightly and turned to look at Jing Liao beside her: "Are you just standing there doing nothing?"

His gaze fell upon the chaotic battles everywhere, a look of pity on his face, and he softly asked, "What should I do?"

Of course, the goal is to prevent various forces from seizing the opportunities within the temple, expel all these people, and then take over this ancient temple.

This thought arose almost instinctively in Hua Changxi's mind.

But when she opened her mouth, ready to utter these self-evident words, she met Jing's eyes.

Those were calm, clear, and mirror-like eyes.

In those eyes, she could see not a trace of competitive desire, nor any concern for gain or loss.

Hua Changxi opened her mouth, but for a moment she was speechless.

Others are like mirrors; at this moment, Hua Changxi saw his own greed reflected in his clear eyes.

“Whenever ancient ruins or secret realms appear, they always bring about such a tragic massacre.” Jing sighed softly, a layer of deep sorrow settling between his brows.

The battle was extremely fierce, and nearly a hundred people died in a short time. But the survivors became even more frenzied, charging forward over the corpses of their comrades.

The crowd, blinded by rage, showed utter disregard for life, as if the more people they killed, the more treasures they could acquire.

Jingle watched this scene, her brows furrowing deeply: "Changxi, do you think these people have lost their way?"

Upon hearing this, Hua Changxi fell silent and did not respond.

His clear gaze followed the frenzied figures, his voice low and deep: "Look at them, don't they seem lost in their own obsessions?"

"At this moment, these people probably only have one thought in their minds: to seize the opportunity. As for how many people they have trampled underfoot and how many of their comrades have died, they can no longer see it."

Hua Changxi remained silent. Gazing at the ferocious faces of the cultivators locked in fierce combat, the words Jingle had spoken the previous night suddenly surfaced in her mind—when a person is deeply entangled in obsession, their thoughts become solely focused on themselves. At that moment, she could see neither others nor external objects.

These people may have different obsessions. Some want to break through their bottlenecks, some want to seize opportunities to strengthen their sects, and some simply want to fight for a chance to stand out from the crowd.

Whatever their initial reasons, at this moment, all they care about is 'getting'. Nothing else matters.

They cannot see the loss of others' lives, nor can they see that they themselves may be gradually heading towards destruction.

They only see 'gains and losses'.

In the center of the square, the elders of Dixiu Temple were already sitting cross-legged, and the low, mournful chanting of the Rebirth Sutra was being played to pray for the souls of those who died from their obsessions.

Jing glanced over there, then looked away and turned to Hua Changxi: "Changxi, I can't stay with you. Take care of yourself and be careful."

Hua Changxi nodded and watched Jing walk towards the square.

He found a spot among the chanting elders, sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and merged into the deep chanting.

Hua Changxi stood alone in place, the shrill sounds of battle and the low chanting of sutras intertwining in her ears, forming an absurd and strange melody that repeatedly washed over her mind.

Since she began her cultivation, she has always practiced the survival rule of 'survival of the fittest'.

In the past, she didn't think there was anything wrong with it, and even deeply agreed with it.

But now, this sense of belonging has cracked.

First, it is to purify and eliminate the 'ego' that has been exposed.

Undeniably, since she began cultivating, she has only been focused on increasing her strength.

Cultivation, alchemy, and venturing out for training...

Upon careful reflection, aside from cultivating to improve her strength, it seems that there were no other people in her life, and if there were, they were only there to serve her.

This is probably what Jingliao meant when he said: living only in one's own world and only thinking about oneself.

Secondly, the non-vessel way of the non-vessel deity also influenced her.

Tools should be kept if they are useful, and discarded if they are not.

She subconsciously viewed others as tools to achieve her goals, but unknowingly, she also turned herself into a tool—a tool that only knew how to cultivate herself, without joy or sorrow, without warmth.

The ultimate essence of the Way of the Tool is nothing more than another form of "survival of the fittest" disguised as a law.

Hua Changxi quietly gazed at Jingle and the others who were chanting sutras with their eyes closed in the square, and slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air as her chest rose and fell.

In that instant, she truly felt the transformation of her state of mind.

In the past, her mindset was trapped in the pursuit of "becoming useful" and she was obsessed with the goal of being "useful." In that narrow dimension, there was only herself, and everyone and everything else was just a tool for her to use.

Now, a crack has finally appeared in her heart. She has stepped out of that isolated island where she was all alone and has begun to see the existence of other people.

This is what is meant by "not a vessel".

The way of tools is the foundation of survival; the way of non-tools is the beginning of seeing heaven and earth and all living beings.

Becoming a useful tool is for survival; becoming a useful tool is for self-cultivation and spiritual refinement; both are indispensable.

Without tools as a foundation, one has no place to stand. (End of Chapter)