The Rotting Buddhas of Journey to the West - chapter 8

Gu-within the Three Realms, this name had never been heard before.

Chang’an was bustling with activity, with endless stalls and shops lining both sides of the street. Dressed in white, I walked among the crowd.

Today was the fifteenth. Most commoners in Chang’an believed in and worshipped Buddhism, heading to the temples in groups of three or five to burn incense.

The largest temple in Chang’an had been completed five years ago. People around me were discussing that they were waiting for a great monk to return and deliver all beings from suffering.

“Divining fortunes by characters, every hexagram is efficacious.”

A shout from the roadside made me stop in my tracks. Turning my head, I saw an old fortune-teller, dressed in gray cloth, sitting in front of a shabby table.

“Young master, have you been troubled by something lately?” He called out to me as I passed by.

I thought to myself, troubled? I have more than just troubles-I’m facing a huge problem. It’s written all over my face, do you really need to say it?

It was nothing more than a trick to attract business at the fortune-telling stall. I didn’t want to pay him any mind.

“Young master, you carry the aura of water and marshes-like someone from the seaside.”

This sentence caught my attention; it sounded somewhat familiar. I strolled over and smiled, “You guessed wrong. I’m from the mountains.”

The Old Man chuckled and said, “Young master, there’s no need to deceive yourself.”

I sat down across from him, casually transformed some silver pieces and tossed them onto the table. I noticed his eyes lit up at the sight of the silver.

“Then just tell my fortune about anything you like.”

I wasn’t really seeking a reading-it’s just that the scene felt increasingly familiar.

The Old Man calmly pocketed the silver, then pretended to calculate for a long while before finally speaking:

“Young master, you must be about to take the imperial exam, worried about failing, and recently you’ve fallen for a young lady. Am I right?”

I was speechless. Not a single thing he said was correct. As expected, just a charlatan.

We both fell silent for a moment. Then I glared at him sharply, releasing a hint of pressure.

“Th-this… Did the Old Man make a mistake in his divination?” He was a bit flustered.

Taking a deep breath, I half-threatened:

“Not a single word was right! Believe it or not, I could have someone smash your stall and drive you out of the city.”

“Oh, young master, spare me! The Old Man is just trying to make a living. How about… I return your money?” The Old Man clasped his hands together repeatedly, begging for mercy.

“Let me ask you a question. When you first saw me, why did you say that sentence?”

The Old Man quickly replied, “I just picked up a book of divination and came out to beg for food. As for what I said when I saw you, I don’t even know how it came out.”

He seemed to be thinking. After a while, he suddenly realized:

“I remember now! All the fortune-tellers in Chang’an like to claim they’re disciples of Yuan Shoucheng, the half-immortal. That sentence I said just now, I think Yuan Shoucheng himself once said it-when he was telling the fortune for the Dragon King of Jing River. The whole city was abuzz about it. Eh? Where did he go…”

I had already turned into wind and flown away. No wonder the scene felt so familiar-back then, the Dragon King of Jing River had come to Chang’an for a fortune-telling, and he too was dressed in white.

Then came the tampering with the rainfall tally, and after that, our experience at Black Water River.

Riding the clouds and mist, it took me only a few hours to reach Black Water River. The water here was still as black as ink-perhaps even blacker than when we first arrived.

Rumor had it that the river turned this way because Tuolong came here, but he had already been driven away, so why was it still…

There wasn’t a single household to be seen on either side of the river, let alone any fishermen. I felt it necessary to make some inquiries.

I transformed into an ordinary passerby and knocked on the door of a nearby village household. While asking for water, I deliberately brought up Black Water River to probe for information.

“Oh, that river? It’s been black for five years now. No one knows why. None of us locals dare go near it anymore. They all say there are monsters in the river.”

I returned the water bowl to the family and thanked them. After they went back inside, my expression darkened.

My mood had nothing to do with the family, but rather-something was wrong with the timeline.

I went invisible and entered the county archive, searching for the local gazette.

Opening the records about Black Water River, I found it clearly written-In the 15th Year of Zhenguan of Tang Dynasty, outside Qingshui County, the river water turned completely black. The county office ordered the people not to approach.

15th Year of Zhenguan of Tang Dynasty-by then, Tuolong had already arrived here, so the river should have turned black long ago.

Suddenly, I remembered-that was the year we came here.

Could the black water be related to us?

Returning to the banks of Black Water River, I activated my Buddhist Dharma Eye to observe. What I saw made my stomach churn violently.

There were countless trillions of black wriggling worms in that river!