Chapter 512 - 352: Mechanical Ascension

Chapter 512: Chapter 352: Mechanical Ascension

Wu Liangchen keenly sensed it—a peculiar yet incredibly gentle and warm power was slowly flowing from the ascetic monk’s palm into the patient’s body. This power wasn’t overbearing, nor did it possess any potent healing properties. It was more like... a form of solace and comfort.

A few minutes later, the ascetic monk withdrew his hand.

The patient’s complexion was still ashen and his breathing hadn’t improved, but his tightly furrowed brow relaxed. The tormented expression on his face eased considerably, and his breathing grew a little steadier. Soon, as if a great weight had been lifted from him, he drifted into a deep sleep.

"Master..."

When the couple saw the patient asleep, a trace of gratitude appeared on their faces, but it was immediately replaced by a deeper anxiety.

The ascetic monk noticed Wu Liangchen standing a short distance away. His eyes, weathered by hardship yet exceptionally clear, glanced in his direction. He showed no displeasure at being observed; on the contrary, he offered Wu Liangchen a faint smile and a nod.

Only then did he turn to the couple, pressing his palms together and speaking softly. "His time is short. You should go home and make the necessary preparations. My abilities are limited; I could only slightly alleviate his pain. For that, I am truly sorry."

Upon hearing his words, the woman could no longer contain herself. She covered her mouth and began to sob. The man, his eyes rimmed with red, repeatedly kowtowed to the ascetic monk, his voice choked with emotion.

"Master, no, we don’t blame you! This is already... this is wonderful! At least our child can suffer less when it’s his time to go! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

The ascetic monk sighed and reached out to help the man to his feet. "Birth, old age, sickness, and death are the way of the world. Please accept my condolences."

After the couple departed with their sleeping child, showering the monk with thanks, he turned his gaze back to Wu Liangchen. He smiled faintly again and said in a tranquil voice, "Sir, you seem quite interested in my practices?"

His voice carried a peculiar cadence, as if it could soothe the agitation within a person’s soul.

"A little curious," Wu Liangchen admitted honestly.

"If you wouldn’t mind, would you care to step inside for a chat?" The ascetic monk gestured invitingly toward an inconspicuous wooden door at the rear of the temple.

Wu Liangchen nodded and followed him through the door.

The room behind the door was small and cramped. It was less a room and more a cubicle that could barely provide shelter from the wind and rain.

The decor within couldn’t even be described as simple; the room was utterly bare. There was a simple bed fashioned from wooden planks and a table with one leg missing, propped up by a brick. Aside from that, there was nothing. One could even see mottled patches of mold on the walls.

Yet, the ascetic monk seemed completely unfazed, his expression one of serene composure. He motioned for Wu Liangchen to sit in the only chair—a dilapidated but still intact one—while he himself sat cross-legged on the floor.

Then, from the corner of the table, he picked up what was clearly a recycled oil can, printed with some sort of industrial logo. He unscrewed the cap and carefully dripped a few drops of murky lubricant into the socket of his mechanical forearm, which was flickering with a blue light.

The metal joint emitted a faint CREAK, as if it had been properly lubricated.

"Forgive the crude display. This arm is an old model from several decades ago. Parts are hard to come by, so I have to be frugal with it." The ascetic monk set down the oil can, his tone casual, as if discussing something utterly mundane.

Watching this unfold, Wu Liangchen suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

The ascetic monk, however, spoke unprompted. "My Dharma name is Jienian."

He paused and looked at Wu Liangchen, his clear eyes seeming to pierce right through a person’s heart. "Sir, you do not seem to be from these parts."

Wu Liangchen neither confirmed nor denied it, asking instead, "Master Jienian, was what you used just now a form of Magic?"

Jienian shook his head. "Yes and no. It is a combination of ancient meditation practices and a rudimentary application of bio-currents and spiritual energy. The purpose is not to heal, but to soothe."

"After all, there is too much suffering in this world, and the pain of separation and death is unavoidable. But this can at least allow the soul to find a moment of peace before it departs."

His words were tranquil, but when he spoke of the suffering lower class, an expression of deep compassion naturally surfaced on his face.

This was not the lofty pity of a superior, but the true compassion of empathy.

"Sir, do you know why we choose to exchange these bodies of flesh and blood for cold machines?" Jienian asked suddenly.

Wu Liangchen did not reply, waiting for him to continue.

Jienian looked at his own rough, fleshy palm and said slowly, "The flesh is a cage, and also the root of all suffering. Hunger, disease, aging, injury... they torment us ceaselessly. But machines—they are cold, precise, and powerful. They are easier to control, and they allow one to discard many unnecessary desires and weaknesses."

Wu Liangchen mulled this over for a moment. "So... this is the ideal you subscribe to?"

"That’s right. We do not worship an idol built from scrap iron. We are forging an entirely new path."

"By gradually replacing and modifying our bodies, we liberate the spirit from the shackles of the flesh, hone our will, and purify our minds, to ultimately reach a state that transcends the material, approaching ’enlightenment’ or ’nirvana.’ These mechanical bodies are both the tools of our practice and the very means by which we enact our compassion and deliver sentient beings from their suffering."

Wu Liangchen was deeply shaken.

’Mechanical ascension? Seeking spiritual transcendence by modifying the physical body?’

’This philosophy was completely different from the systems of martial arts and Magic he was familiar with; it was practically subversive. To combine technology with an almost religious philosophy, to try and forge a path to ’enlightenment’ in a cold, mechanical, cyberpunk world?’

’This was... utterly inconceivable!’

But looking into Jienian’s calm and resolute eyes, feeling the deep-seated compassion and tranquility emanating from him, Wu Liangchen found he could not simply dismiss it all as nonsense.

He might not agree with this path, but he couldn’t help but respect the man walking it.

Especially when this man was selflessly dedicating his own power to the struggling, hopeless souls trapped at the very bottom.

"I can see that your Qi and Blood are abundant, and your spirit is powerful. You must be an accomplished practitioner," Jienian continued. "May I ask what it is you seek? Is it power? Longevity? Or... something else?"

Wu Liangchen fell silent for a moment. He thought of Yan Shu, of the fog at sea, of this world’s many mysteries, and finally shook his head. "I’m just looking for some answers."

Jienian nodded and didn’t press the matter. "The myriad ways of the world are all just paths. I hope you find the answers that belong to you."

The two spoke for a while longer. Jienian told Wu Liangchen about some of the things he had seen and heard in the West Ninth District, and of the many difficulties and dangers he and his fellow "iron monks" faced while aiding the poor. There was no trace of complaint or hesitation in his voice, only a deep sigh for the suffering of the masses.

For the first time, Wu Liangchen felt a true, heartfelt admiration for someone.

It was not because of any great power or profound wisdom, but because this man was truly doing what most people could not.

In such a dark and cruel world, he was burning himself to bring warmth to others, no matter how faint that light might be.

When Wu Liangchen stood up to take his leave, he didn’t say much. He simply placed an unregistered black card, loaded with a considerable sum of Union Credits, gently on the dilapidated table.

Jienian saw the card and froze for a moment, about to refuse it.

"This isn’t a handout." Wu Liangchen looked at him, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable force. "It is a sign of respect. What you do is worthy of it."

With that, he did not linger. He turned and walked out of the humble room, which seemed to contain a sacred glow, leaving Jienian’s whispered words, "Praise be to the Cyber Bodhisattva," behind him.

Outside the temple, Wu Liangchen glanced back at the "卍" symbol flickering with an unstable light, a whirlwind of emotions in his heart.

’Cyber Bodhisattva, mechanical ascension... This world is far more complex, and also far more... interesting than I imagined.’

He felt as if he had just glimpsed another part of the iceberg hidden beneath this world’s surface. As for the clues about Yan Shu, perhaps he needed to approach his search from more varied angles.

The night deepened. Wu Liangchen’s figure soon vanished into the labyrinthine streets of the West Ninth District, leaving only the strange Cyber Temple to stand silently amid the neon shadows, guarding its faint yet tenacious candlelight.