It really was a cauldron!
A small, fist-sized bronze tripod stood on the dark wooden tray, supported by three short legs. Jing Shu squinted through the dim light of the courtyard. Was that really what they called a cauldron? It looked more like one of those ancient ritual vessels used for sacrifices or pouring wine to the heavens. The metal was dull, its surface etched with swirling patterns partially obscured by time.
So that was the treasure everyone was after? Honestly, it didn't look like much; it was just an old relic covered in a thin, greenish layer of rust. It was the kind of thing you would find in a museum exhibit about the Zhou dynasty, forgotten behind a pane of glass.
Jing Shu's group watched from a distance, staying alert. Their bodies were coiled, hands resting near their concealed holsters or the hilts of their blades. They didn't move, but several sniper rifles were already aimed at them from the dark overhangs of the temple roofs, their lenses catching the occasional glint of light.
Meanwhile, Snake Spirit had sent his little Thaiban out to release poison. The snake slithered through the cold grass, invisible to the onlookers. The plan was simple: if the other side didn't shoot first, they would be dead before they could pull the trigger.
But until the bet ended, both sides were temporarily safe. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the smell of old incense and damp stone.
The monk, Jie Lu, stared at the cauldron. His eyes were glistening as he looked at the bronze tripod. He pressed his palms together and bowed to the chubby monk across from him. "When I was young and foolish, I had no faith. I fled that day in disgrace, leaving the cauldron behind. Master Yuan Tong, five years ago, we made a wager. Would you once again debate the Buddha's path of self-sacrifice and offering one's body to the relics of the Blessed One?"
So the fat monk's Buddhist name was Yuan Tong.
Yuan Tong pressed his palms together in return, his heavy robes rustling as he bowed. "Master Jie Lu, since you have come today, your spiritual cultivation must have grown. If one truly seeks Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi, the supreme enlightenment, then offering even a burning finger, or a toe, to the Buddha's stupa surpasses offering all the treasures of kingdoms, wives, or the mountains and rivers of the three thousand worlds."
After their exchange of bows, both sat cross-legged on the cold ground. The presiding host stepped forward, his footsteps echoing on the stone, to witness the reopening of the five-year-old wager. Then Yuan Tong revealed his hand. Two of his fingers were missing, leaving only scarred stumps.
Under the shocked gazes of everyone watching, he poured a viscous, clear oil over his hand. He struck a match, and the flame caught instantly. The fire flickered wildly in the dim light like candles in the wind, their wax replaced by burning flesh. The soft crackle of sizzling oil echoed through the temple courtyard, accompanied by a faint, acrid smell. Even the Black onlookers who had come to watch the excitement went silent, their eyes wide and stunned.
This… was supposed to be a Buddhist duel?
Hell no. This was straight-up self-mutilation!
Both monks pressed their palms together, their silhouettes cast long against the temple walls as their oil-soaked fingers caught fire.
Jing Shu seemed to see the scene from five years ago. She imagined Yuan Tong sitting in the temple, burning his own flesh in devotion, while the young Jie Lu fled in fear into the night. Five years later, Jie Lu had returned with enlightenment and resolve, determined to reclaim the cauldron.
Sweat poured down Jie Lu's face like rain, dripping onto his robes. His expression was full of sorrow and determination. His brows knit tight as he began chanting scriptures in a low, rhythmic drone. The pain was clearly unbearable, yet he didn't flinch.
Yuan Tong's face remained calm, neither joyful nor sorrowful. "If one doesn't burn their body, arms, or fingers in offering to the Buddhas, one isn't truly a bodhisattva."
"Master Yuan Tong," Jie Lu said through gritted teeth, his voice strained. "I came today not to seek enlightenment but to win this wager and reclaim what belongs to China."
Yuan Tong shook his head, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "A true disciple of the Buddha offers their body, burns their fingers, arms, and even their head to honor the Buddha and the stupas. Only by such sacrifices can one cleanse karmic sins and gain supreme blessings."
Jie Lu bit his lip, the color draining from his face, and recited softly, "The sutras say that when offering to the Buddha, one should start with oneself before offering worldly wealth. Those who burn their arms in offering do so sincerely, following worldly customs, and it's fitting."
Jing Shu rubbed her chin, her eyes darting between the two men. "Uh… what are they even saying? Anyone got a translation?"
Thankfully, Ling Ling, the universal translator, leaned in and whispered. "Master Yuan Tong supports self-immolation as a way to purify karma and attain enlightenment. Monk argues that such extreme asceticism only has value if it benefits both oneself and others. He is against blind self-harm. He came here only to prove himself and win the wager."
The debate between the two monks grew fierce, their words dense and profound. Without Ling Ling translating, Jing Shu would have understood nothing. After coming abroad, she was beginning to doubt her whole life. She couldn't understand foreign languages, and now she couldn't even understand the specialized terms of her own.
Wait… there was something seriously wrong here.
"If this debate doesn't end, and neither side admits defeat," Jing Shu asked, her voice low, "does that mean they will just keep burning like that forever?"
At first, she had been shocked but calm. After all, she was a doctor, and one worth a hundred contribution points. As long as they didn't die, she could patch them back up with her medical kit.
In her mind, a monk duel should have been like Shaolin kung fu: some Lion's Roar, a few punches, maybe a palm technique or two. But this? This was two monks literally setting themselves on fire!
Yang Yang squinted at the flickering orange light and nodded. "That's why we need to be ready for Plan B."
"Will the monk die?"
"Not sure. Maybe."
"One of them is bound to die. Either Yuan Tong or Jie Lu… maybe both will reach Nirvana together."
Everyone fell silent. Watching from the sidelines wasn't as easy as it sounded. It was painful to see someone they had lived and fought alongside for months now burning alive before their eyes. Jing Shu felt like ants were crawling all over her seat. She shifted her weight, unable to stay still.
How long would it take to burn someone to death like that? A cremation furnace took about an hour, and that was quick and painless because of the intense heat. But this? This was a slow, agonizing death. Every second the fire ate away at the skin, burning through nerves, muscles, and bone. The pain was beyond anything words could describe; it was like being pierced by ten thousand arrows without end.
And the worst part? You had to watch it happen. You had to look at your own body—watch your fingers, palms, and arms turn to ash bit by bit while you remained conscious.
If you compared their mental states, Jie Lu's suffering was definitely worse. Yuan Tong believed he would be reborn in the Pure Land. His faith was unshakable. But Jie Lu didn't believe in self-sacrifice. To him, this wasn't devotion; it was torture. His heart must have been filled with fear and despair.
Jing Shu suddenly wondered how much courage it had taken for him to come all the way to America and face this.
If you put it in simple terms, it was like this: Yuan Tong was sitting in first class on a crashing plane, insured for billions. Even if he died, his faith promised eternal compensation. Jie Lu, on the other hand, was in economy class, no insurance, no guarantee. He was just praying for a miracle landing.
That was the difference in their mindset.
Time crawled by. For Jing Shu and the others, every minute felt unbearable as the cold wind whipped around the courtyard. For the monks, every second was an eternity. The pain stretched endlessly, magnified a thousand times over.
One of Jie Lu's fingers finally burned down to the bone, the white of the phalange showing through the charred flesh. The presiding monk calmly added more oil from a small vial, slowing the burn to make their offering more "devout."
Even the Black onlookers began backing away, their shadows retreating into the darkness of the temple pillars. The eerie silence, the flickering firelight, the faint smell of burning flesh; it was too much. Their skin crawled with goosebumps.
The Chinese… were terrifying.
===
I'm thinking about picking up a new novel to translate soon, and right now I'm considering two titles: "The Fortune Pawn Shop: A Life to Sale" and "I Built My Own Inheritance."
The first one follows a girl named Ning Xia, who only has one week left to live. She suddenly inherits a mysterious pawnshop with one rule: give what you value most, and you'll receive what you desire most. It's eerie, dramatic, and full of emotional deals and secrets. I really love the premise.
The second story is about Su Wan, whose phone suddenly updates with this game called "My Ancestors' Era." Inside it, she can interact with people from the past and help them survive, build their family, and improve their lives. Every time she succeeds, she receives real antiques in the present.
Then her parents call her home to inherit the family property, and she realizes the incredibly wealthy and powerful family she helped build in the past... is actually her own. The fortune she is about to receive is the direct result of her own actions. I find this concept super fun and refreshing.
Both novels are currently serialized and have around 100 chapters, so they're still relatively short. I think I can catch up to the latest raw chapter within a week. As usual, I'll publish the translations on my AO3 account, and I'll share more detailed previews on Discord before I officially start.
The second novel is written by Chen Yuqing, who also wrote "With Double the Initial Opportunities," "This Isn't Exile, It's Clearly a Vacation," "I Turned Trash into Treasure in the Cultivation World," and "Space Check-in: I'm Farming in the Apocalypse." I've read some of their work before, and honestly, I might pick up another one in the future. Like Feng Ling, they focus on strong female MCs and No CP stories, which is exactly my taste.
I know my schedule is a little chaotic right now. On Webnovel, Stealing Luck, True Heir (Feng Ling's), and Troublemaker's Guide are all running low on drafts, and my AO3 projects How I Fed and My VR Games haven't been updated in a few weeks. Plus, I'm still busy organizing the Discord server and updating more than 100 C.AI characters (help me lol). It's a lot all at once, and I really need more time to get everything sorted before things go back to normal. It might take a month, maybe even longer.
I'm really sorry for the messy update schedule recently, especially on Webnovel, since I used to update pretty consistently. Thank you for your patience and for understanding. It means a lot to me. ♡