Chapter 45: The Eternal Ages Seethe

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“Neighbors, you may begin!”

Du Yuan turned toward the villagers carrying roof tiles and loudly announced the start of the repairs.

As his voice faded, the modest temple instantly sprang to life.

The men bearing the tiles got to work at once. They propped wooden ladders against the crumbling walls, hoisted stacks of gray tiles onto their shoulders, and climbed upward amid shouted calls.

Not far away in the open ground, several nimble village women had already rolled up their sleeves and begun setting up pots to prepare a meal.

Du Yuan looked around and found everything proceeding in perfect order. There was not a single task in which an outsider like him could lend a hand.

He was just about to find somewhere to sit and rest when a strange cry suddenly came from above.

“Huh?!”

Looking up, he saw one of the men on the roof shouting anxiously:

“Daoist! These broken tiles won’t come up!”

As he spoke, he reached down and tried to pry up one of the tiles, demonstrating the problem on the spot.

They were plainly no more than a few scattered fragments, with nothing holding them down, yet they would not budge in the slightest. At first, the man assumed they had stuck to something and thought that, with a little more force, he could surely lift them.

But by then, his face had flushed crimson. The veins in both hands stood out as he poured every ounce of strength into the effort. Still, the tile remained as immovable as though it had grown straight out of the roof.

Two men beside him refused to believe it and came over to help. One reached down and tried to lift it, but it did not move an inch. The other tested several nearby fragments, with exactly the same result.

The strange spectacle startled the two villagers below, who had been passing up tiles beside the ladder. They hurriedly lowered their heads and tentatively tried lifting the tiles beneath their own feet.

This time, both men raised them with ease.

“What... what is going on?”

They stared at the tiles in their hands, astonished and bewildered.

The three men on the roof shook their heads repeatedly.

“It isn’t that we don’t have the strength! Come up and try it yourselves!”

The two groups exchanged places. The newcomers on the roof, still unwilling to believe it, tried to pry up the “rooted” tile. They immediately learned the truth the hard way.

No matter how fiercely they strained, no matter how red their faces became or how prominently their veins bulged, even after using every bit of strength they possessed, the tiny tile remained utterly motionless.

The spectacle drew more and more villagers. Everyone pointed and whispered until, at last, every gaze turned toward the only person who might explain what was happening: the Daoist.

Even Du Yuan found the situation rather unexpected.

Hadn’t that one already agreed?

By all rights, this should not have happened.

“Oh?” Du Yuan raised his brows slightly. “Let me take a look.”

With that, he quickly climbed the ladder and reached the “rooted” tile in a few moments.

This was the only hole in the temple roof. It lay precisely above the head of the divine statue.

Apart from a few scattered fragments, there was nothing but a gaping opening, leaving the altar below completely exposed. Years of wind and rain had poured in through it without restraint. No wonder the statue had fallen into such disrepair.

After taking a deep breath, Du Yuan placed all five fingers upon the fragment that had left everyone else helpless.

The instant his hand touched it, an indescribably heavy sensation came crashing through him.

It was heavy—truly heavy—but not impossible.

After a moment of astonishment, Du Yuan lifted the tile.

“Ah, it worked?!”

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“The Daoist did it!”

“Oh my, how can this be?”

The villagers cried out in amazement, while Du Yuan himself felt faintly puzzled.

But no sooner had the doubt risen in his heart than he suddenly felt a vast surge of vapor burst from the tile in his hand.

The force did more than send his sleeves whipping wildly. It nearly blew the men beside him off the roof as well.

Had the astonishing vapor not come and gone so quickly, several of them might truly have fallen.

“Daoist, what... what is happening?”

The men who had nearly rolled off the roof were terrified, yet they looked at Du Yuan, tile in hand, with boundless awe.

Du Yuan did not answer. He merely examined the broken tile in silence.

The cold, watery vapor upon its surface was fading at a visible speed.

Within the time it took to draw a single breath, the tile was completely dry.

What is this?

Du Yuan instinctively lowered his head and looked toward the divine statue.

A response came from the other party, but this time it was indistinct.

“The Great Way... mountains... waters...”

After that came a long silence, as though uttering those few words had already exhausted all its strength.

Du Yuan furrowed his brows deeply. For some reason, this reminded him of the first time he had come here to clean the altar for this particular deity.

Both occasions had been difficult and halting.

So this time, too, was it up to him?

He rubbed his brow, then could only smile and continue.

After coming this far, there was no reason to turn and leave.

Before proceeding, however, Du Yuan did not forget to hand the tile to one of the men.

“Now try it. Can you still lift it?”

The man accepted the tile cautiously, cradling it in both hands and instinctively exerting the greatest strength he had ever used.

Having experienced the tile’s power, he feared that the instant he touched it, he would be confronted with a weight beyond his ability to bear.

Yet once it was in his hands, he cried out in surprise.

“Ah, it’s normal now? It isn’t heavy anymore?”

Still astonished, he tried the other broken tiles as well.

He took hold of one and strained. After only a moment, he gave an embarrassed smile and abandoned the attempt.

By now, Du Yuan understood. The hole in the roof above the divine statue could only be repaired by him.

“It seems I’ll have to do it myself.” He cupped his hands toward the villagers. “I ask that you teach me how to carry out the repairs.”

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“Not at all. We’re only troubling the Daoist.”

The villagers taught him carefully. The steps involved in repairing the roof were, in truth, not especially complicated.

The only thing beyond Du Yuan’s expectations was this:

Lifting the tiles had been as difficult as a child trying to raise a boulder, while setting them in place was more like wrestling with a bull.

Du Yuan even had the surrounding villagers try. Whether it was a brawny man with corded muscles, a child with a youthful face and an innocent heart, or an unmarried young woman, none of them could set the tile down or lift it up.

Only he could do it.

When only one final tile remained before the hole above the statue’s head would be sealed, Du Yuan looked around.

Every other part of the temple had already been restored by the villagers.

After all, the only place unlike an ordinary roof was the section assigned to him.

Thus, the tile in his hand was not merely the final piece needed to fill this hole.

It was also the last remaining gap in the entire temple.

Du Yuan weighed the tile in his hand and shook his head with a laugh.

“You certainly have made me work for this.”

With that, he began to lower it into place.

But this time, Du Yuan felt resistance unlike anything before.

In a daze, he seemed to see not the empty space in the roof, but all the rivers and waterways beneath heaven, the four seas and five lakes.

Endless currents of water surged furiously beneath the small clay tile, determined to prevent this final repair from being completed.

“There is no need to force it.”

That voice sounded once more beside Du Yuan’s ear.

Then came another sentence.

“I have already received too much kindness from you.”

Du Yuan’s heart tightened. As he had thought before, after coming this far, there was no reason to stop now.

The technique of wielding a flying sword against an enemy was utterly useless here.

If that was the case—

Du Yuan raised his hand. His five fingers became like mountains, forming an inverted Buddhist realm and pressing down upon the tile.

Then he shouted, his voice cracking like thunder in spring:

“Prajna Paramita!”

Buddha-light appeared. The rivers grew still. The four seas submitted.

The final repair of the temple was complete.

And in that instant, all eternity came boiling to life.

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