Chapter 23: The Great Thai Monk

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The waterfall plunged into the lake, sending countless droplets into the air. A beautiful young woman sat by the lakeside, her bare feet immersed in the water, her face laden with sorrow, as if burdened by an inescapable melancholy. Suddenly, a bald man abruptly emerged from the water before her, startling the pensive girl into a sharp scream, “Ah—”

The bald man was muscular and robust, his physique resembling that of a brawler more than a monk. “Salina, come down and swim with me,” he said in Thai.

The girl called Salina appeared fearful of this bald man, whispering in Thai, “I’m afraid of water; I can’t swim...”

“I’ll teach you,” he replied, ignoring her reluctance. He forcibly grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the water. Though he claimed to be teaching her to swim, in truth, he was dragging Salina into a playful but intimate scene in the lake.

Salina dared not resist; she only wept softly.

She was born into a relatively wealthy family in Thailand. Yet once, while strolling with her family on the street, a passing high-ranking monk was captivated by her beauty at first glance. He sent disciples to her home, designating her as his consort for dual cultivation.

In Thailand, many impoverished but beautiful girls were sold by their parents to monasteries as consorts for monks. Salina’s family was well-off and should never have faced such a fate.

However, at that time, monks held immense status—even the king revered them deeply. The high monk was powerful within Buddhism. Despite her parents’ strong objections, they reluctantly sent Salina to the monastery.

Compared to other girls sold into monasteries, Salina was somewhat fortunate—she was the exclusive consort of the high monk alone. His possessiveness was fierce; even other monks who glanced at her were reprimanded.

Perhaps due to long-term emotional suppression, Salina fell gravely ill within ten years of staying by the high monk’s side. Despite his desperate efforts to prolong her life, nothing worked. Eventually, she passed away.

The high monk harbored genuine affection for Salina. His face, heavy with scars and flesh, twisted in pain as he tightly embraced her lifeless body, unwilling to let go. After an indeterminate time, he slowly pulled himself from grief. Carefully placing her corpse on the monk’s bed, he took a dark brush dipped in an oddly fragrant ink and devoutly painted a mysterious totem on Salina’s left wrist. His eyes brimmed with madness. “Salina, with this mark, no matter where your reincarnation takes you, I, the high monk, will find you. We shall meet again.”

I awoke from this nightmare in the dead of night, my lower abdomen aching. Opening my eyes, I intended to go to the bathroom but froze at the sight of a burly, muscular high monk standing by the bed. His large, frog-like eyes gleamed with excitement. “Salina—”

Dazed, I thought, was this nightmare coming true?!

The high monk lunged at me like a starving tiger, pinning me firmly to the bed. “Salina, I’ve finally found you—” he said, reaching to grope me, his wide frog-like mouth aiming to bite my neck.

I snapped out of it and screamed loudly, “Pervert! Yang Jian, save me—”

A golden light flashed from Yang Jian’s photo. A strikingly handsome man swiftly appeared, grabbing the high monk and slamming him heavily against the wall.

Yang Jian shielded me behind him, his sharp eyes blazing with anger as he glared at the high monk. “You dare lay a hand on my fiancée!”

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The high monk struggled to his feet. “She is my Salina, my personal consort. I have searched for her for hundreds of years.”

Yang Jian, filled with jealousy, retorted, “She’s no ordinary person. It was a karmic fate in a past life that you took advantage of her. How dare you disturb her now.”

“I want her to be my consort for all lifetimes to come!” the high monk bellowed.

Hearing this, Yang Jian’s fury ignited. His triple-pointed double-edged spear appeared. In terms of martial prowess, even ten such monks would be no match for Yang Jian. However, the high monk’s soul had cultivated over centuries and possessed certain powers. Holding a string of black prayer beads, he chanted obscure, unpleasant incantations. Suddenly, countless skulls with glowing green eyes and teeth emerged from behind him—clearly unnatural.

Yang Jian showed no fear. His eyes burned with rage as he slew the skeletal troops as they advanced. A mighty force radiated from him, overwhelming the high monk and forcing him to crash into the ground. The high monk coughed up blood, clutching his chest, unable to continue fighting. With a look of bitter unwillingness, he glanced at me sitting on the bed, then turned and leapt out the window.

Yang Jian sheathed his spear, approached me, and pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me fiercely. His voice brimmed with possessiveness. “Yu’er, I will never let any man take you from me.”

I thought peace would return after the high monk’s retreat. Yet, days later, after showering one afternoon and about to leave the bathroom, a sudden intense numbness flooded my legs, not the usual prickling of poor circulation but the sensation of anesthesia, leaving my lower body unresponsive.

Supporting myself against the bathroom door, I slid down to the cold floor and quickly called Zhong Yang on WeChat. The phone rang for a long time before he answered. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and on the screen, Wang Xinyue’s androgynous face appeared.

Why was Zhong Yang at Wang Xinyue’s house?

Ignoring that question, I quickly and precisely told Zhong Yang about my legs.

His eyes suddenly glowed green. Using his gaze, he scanned me and discovered bone needles embedded in my knees. If left too long, these needles would cause permanent paralysis.

Zhong Yang summoned the Jade Gourd and commanded, “Jade Gourd, remove all the bone needles from Xu Xiaoqian’s knees—now!”

The Jade Gourd radiated spiritual energy. Its mouth sucked forcefully, and the needles were swiftly drawn out. The numbness in my legs gradually receded, replaced by a warm, reviving sensation.

Just as I sighed in relief, sharp pain stabbed my right wrist.

Zhong Yang’s eyes fixed on my right wrist, tightly bound by a string of black prayer beads—the same ones the high monk had held days ago. These beads emitted no holy aura but rather a heavy darkness and malevolence. Three black needles were also embedded there, their tips flickering with ominous light.

Zhong Yang removed the beads and needles. Suddenly, Wang Xinyue’s voice interrupted coldly, “Wait, there’s something on her head—”

Zhong Yang quickly concentrated and looked again, surprised. “Xiaoqian, why is there a... circlet on your head?” His tone conveyed confusion.

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“It’s the Tightening Spell,” Wang Xinyue said firmly. “Like the circlet on Sun Wukong’s head used to tame him, this is a shackle. It tightly binds her writing ability. The Thai high monk doesn’t want her to complete her mission this lifetime and return to the divine realm. He wants to trap her soul here on earth forever.”

Zhong Yang used his mind to loosen the circlet and removed it with the Jade Gourd. Yet, fighting the high monk alone would be difficult.

After ending the call with Zhong Yang, I contacted Teacher Xing via video, telling him about the Thai high monk.

Teacher Xing closed his eyes and meditated for a while. Suddenly, he opened them wide. “The mark the high monk branded on you is burned into your soul. I will help you erase it.” His hand moved gently over the screen, and the brand on my left wrist vanished like smoke.

Teacher Xing’s voice grew grave. “The high monk’s obsession with you is intense. He is part of a Buddhist sect in Thailand, cultivating secretly in a cave filled with skulls of little demons. He practices a very dark and evil form of cultivation.”

Teacher Xing washed his hands in the restroom, then solemnly lit three incense sticks before seven divine statues. Summoning the divine dragon’s celestial troops, he commanded, “Great Dragon, lead your one hundred thousand divine soldiers swiftly to the cave where the high monk cultivates.”

From a landscape painting hanging in the hall, a huge golden dragon flew out. Landing, it transformed into a majestic armored general—imposing and heroic. Bowing to Teacher Xing, he gestured, and the hundred thousand armored soldiers followed him, flying toward the Thai cave.

The cave’s entrance resembled a giant skull with a gaping mouth, eerie and terrifying. Surprisingly, the high monk was absent; only thousands of demons guarded the place. Bat demons with blood-red glowing eyes swarmed the soldiers, attempting to bite them. Countless lizard demons with human heads crawled along the walls and floor, grotesque in appearance.

The divine generals were fearless. Their weapons flashed with light, severing the lizards into pieces. The green ichor splattered over them, filling the air with a pungent stench. Amid the chaos, one general raised a mirror that emitted a dazzling glare, shining it on the bat demons. Blinded by the light, the demons fell like rain, powerless to fight. Eventually, the great dragon and the soldiers eradicated all evil spirits in the cave, then set it ablaze before returning to the hall.

Teacher Xing told me the high monk wasn’t in the cave. I hurriedly asked, “Then where did he go?”

He closed his eyes again, sensing, then opened them suddenly. “His soul is at Mount Jiuhua. The incense there is abundant, attracting many evil spirits to absorb its spiritual energy for cultivation. The last time you went to Mount Jiuhua, he saw you accidentally. That’s why he found you.”

“Are we just going to let him escape? Won’t you kill him?” I asked, disappointed.

Teacher Xing paused. “Mercy is sometimes necessary. If he survived this ordeal, it means he’s not meant to die yet. His magical power and cultivation are ruined. With the cave destroyed, he’s gravely weakened and injured. We spare his life now, hoping he won’t dare to trouble you again.”

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