Non-Void Yaoguai Chiefs
Location
Can be fought by transforming into a fox through the use of the 
Snow Fox Brush and entering the Thunderclap Temple.
Description
Few deciples know when 
Non-Void took his vows and became a monk. They only know that he was among the earliest to follow their master, making him the most senior, and entrusted to many of the temple’s affairs.
He rarely left the hall, seemingly always engrossed in endless sutra recitations. He was also highly skilled in poetry and painting, having depicted various Buddhas in the west and the myriad aspects of worldly life. Yet, he never cherished his creations, often discarding them carelessly after finishing. When asked why, he would say, “I see no true self; Non-void is but void. It’s all an illusion, so why hold on to it?”
Though Non-Void seldom left the hall, he enjoyed engaging others in debates about Buddhist doctrines.
One day, 
Non-Able approached him and asked, “Brother, is killing a sin?”
Non-Void replied, “Killing is a sin. But if it is for the sake of the greater good, then it is not a sin.”
Non-Able countered, “And what is the greater good?”
Non-Void answered, “It is the realization of void, the fulfillment of virtue, ascending to bliss, and entering the lad of bliss.”
Non-Able questioned further, “Killing not only fails to resolve karma but also creates more entanglements and obstacles. How can one ascend to bliss then?”
Non-Void responded, “If I do not enter hell, who will? If not killing leaves harm for others, isn’t that a greater lack of virtue?”
Non-Able laughed, “Brother, you yourself said you would enter hell, which shows that killing is wrong no matter what. Good ones naturally receive blessings; there’s no need for you to make things complicated.”
Non-Void hastily explained, “Entering hell is just a metaphor. The essence is to suffer for others…”
Non-Able interrupted, “Nonsense! Killing is killing, no need for all these convoluted justifications. Brother, the pretence behind justifying killing is the real sin.”
Hearing this, Non-Void was momentarily speechless, as if reminded of something from the past.
From that day on, the two never debated again.
Poetry
Neither dead nor truly alive, a dreamer left behind,
One step missed, cost half a lifetime.
Sign up
No Comments