Chapter Seventeen: The Mani Wall and the Mandala

The mandala, known as the "tan-cheng" in Tibetan Buddhism (the term "mandala" is a transliteration from the Sanskrit "mndl"), is pronounced as "jikho" in Tibetan. Mandala originated from ancient Indian esoteric Buddhist practices. Back then, practitioners, to ward off demonic intrusions, would construct a circular or square earthen altar on the site whenever they engaged in esoteric rituals, standing or sitting upon it to perform their rites, inviting Buddhas from past, present, and future to bear witness, and painting their images upon the altar.

Later generations, drawing upon this basic framework, devised many forms of mandala. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the mandala symbolizes the primordial structure of the universe, a microcosm of the diverse deities and their retinues' abode. Practicing within the mandala ensures protection from a hundred demons and makes attaining enlightenment easier.

Guan Wen, this is the very place where, long ago, the three thousand Demon Suppressors vanquished the Demoness. The splendid, illustrious legends belong to Princess Wencheng, but a bloody, brutal war unfolded beneath the dark, sunless depths of the Nine Netherworlds. The Demon Suppressors carved tunnels into the mountain, penetrating the lair where the Demoness had entrenched herself. With the help of sages from Tibet and Nepal, they first imprisoned the Demoness for three years using Mani piles and Mani walls, then constructed the mandala, forcing her into the earth’s veins below. The Demoness had cultivated in Tibet for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years, her powers immense; even three thousand Demon Suppressors together could not destroy her in one fell swoop. At last, a Demon Suppressor surnamed Sun hid within the belly of a sacrificial ox, was cast into the earth’s veins, and when the Demoness devoured the ox, he slew her from within her stomach, finally killing her and sending her plummeting into the bottomless depths, ending the war. Afterward, Nepali Princess Chizun, following Princess Wencheng’s calculations, had earth carried by goats to fill Lake Wotang, upon which she built the Jokhang Temple to enshrine the Buddha. Princess Wencheng first governed Lhasa, bestowing upon it the Eight Auspicious Signs, then constructed twelve Demon Suppressing Temples at the four corners of Central Tibet to pin down the Demoness's limbs, also known as the Twelve Demon Suppressing Shrines. The significance of these twelve temples lies in the eternal suppression of the Demoness’s soul, as twelve immovable nails.

That history, recounted by great figures, unfolds like a tale. Yet Guan Wen could imagine the battle between the Demon Suppressors and the Demoness was unimaginably cruel. Throughout history, peace in any era or nation was never begged for, but forged by the blood and lives of countless heroes. For every general made famous, ten thousand bones lie beneath; the throne is not supported by bricks and brocade, but by the undying spirits of warriors.

Guan Wen bowed deeply before the mandala, expressing reverence for the Demon Suppressors of old.

"Let’s take a closer look," the distinguished figure sighed.

They walked around to the right, entering the Mani wall through a figure-eight-shaped opening. Inside and outside the wall, the temperature differed vastly, so as soon as Guan Wen stepped in, he involuntarily shivered.

"The earth’s veins are ancient passages to the earth’s core. Some are extremely cold, others extremely hot—can you withstand it?" the distinguished figure asked.

Guan Wen nodded. "I’m fine."

They walked ten steps forward and reached the edge of the colorful mandala on the ground.

In Tibetan Buddhism, mandalas are divided into four types: the Great Mandala, the Samaya Mandala, the Dharma Mandala, and the Karma Mandala. The mandala enclosed by the Mani wall is the Great Mandala, a pictorial representation of the deities in their full glory, akin to the Assembly of Manifestation in the Vajra Realm Mandala. The Great Mandala uses five colors—blue, yellow, red, white, and black—to depict the deities and their forms, representing earth, fire, water, wind, and space, the fundamental elements of the universe.

The plaza was vast and empty; the lights around did not penetrate to the interior of the Mani wall, so Guan Wen could not see his footing, but he sensed deep and shallow inscriptions carved into the ground.

He squatted, carefully touching the carved marks with his palm.

The distinguished figure explained in a low voice, "Those are records left by the Demon Suppressors. Since the three thousand Demon Suppressors came from various regions and sects of mainland China, their recording habits differed—some used Chinese characters, others used scripts of northern nomads, some used Goguryeo script, some used Western Region scripts, and some were unique Taoist, Buddhist, Yin-Yang, Legalist, and Mohist talismans. Over the years, countless eminent monks and sages of Tibetan Buddhism have labored to translate these inscriptions, passing them down from generation to generation."

Guan Wen stroked the marks for a while, gradually growing puzzled. "Why is it," he wondered, "that these marks appear to be characters on the surface, but in essence, they seem to form a lively painting?"

He quickly traced to the right, and his suspicion was confirmed: each carved stroke was connected, either by intention or fine lines. The effect resembled a vast ink-wash landscape, where every element was inseparable. If forcibly dismantled, the meaning would be lost.

"What are you doing?" the distinguished figure called out.

Guan Wen had no time to answer; within minutes, he had circled the mandala's edge, tracing it. He sensed the carvings could form a boundless, infinite painting—not mountains, not figures, not birds, beasts, fish, or insects, nor floral miniatures, but a grand vision of the cosmos, an opening and closing beyond human comprehension.

In that instant, he thought of the birth of the universe, the rotation of planets, the splitting of heaven and earth by Pangu, the mending of the sky by Nüwa—events as elusive as dreams. Yet he could not express it in words, for the feeling could only be grasped intuitively, not spoken.

He clearly felt that stepping into the mandala, entering the earth's veins, was the only way to unveil the truth. With that thought, he immediately strode towards the center of the mandala.

The mandala's diameter was about fifteen paces, and at its center was a blank circle three paces wide, incongruous with the surrounding colors, displaying a strange bluish-gray jade hue.

"This is the final entrance, sealing the Demoness and closing the earth's veins," the distinguished figure followed him in.

"The Demoness hasn’t truly died, has she?" Guan Wen asked.

"I don’t know. I doubt anyone does," the distinguished figure replied with a bitter smile.

"Those carvings aren’t demon-suppressing records, but rather… the Demon Suppressors’ last testament, or perhaps a will. If you simply believe the demon-suppressing is complete upon reading them, you are gravely mistaken." Guan Wen sighed deeply. What he felt from the strokes far surpassed their literal meaning.

The distinguished figure was silent, unable to respond.

Guan Wen lay down, peering beneath the center. The circle was opaque, but he wasn’t looking with his eyes—he was sensing with his mind and spirit.

Many treatises by scholars of the Five Elements and Yin-Yang schools discuss the earth’s veins: just as the human body has meridians, so does the earth, formed from Pangu’s transformed body. Every human meridian corresponds to one in the earth, known as earth veins. When unobstructed, there is no pain; when blocked, pain arises. Just as blocked human meridians cause illness, so do blocked earth veins cause anomalies in the land. Human meridians have heads and tails, and so do earth veins. The earth’s surface is dotted with countless entrances—volcano craters, sinkholes, sea eyes, hot springs, cold springs—all are portals connecting earth veins to the outside world.

Guan Wen was familiar with this field. Hearing the distinguished figure mention the Demon Suppressors forcing the Demoness into the earth veins, he instantly realized that the failure to suppress the demon completely had left her a chance for resurrection.

"It’s empty below," Guan Wen said, rising with a sense of melancholy.

"You felt it too?" the distinguished figure asked softly.

Guan Wen nodded, glancing at the surrounding Mani walls, Mani piles, and dim lights, suddenly struck by the insignificance of humanity before supernatural forces.

Who knows how arduous the Demon Suppressors’ excavation was to find the Demoness’s place of cultivation, and how many lives were lost to drive her into the earth veins? Yet, the result was only a temporary victory, a fleeting peace. Now, everything seems like a skyscraper built upon a seismic fault—appearing stable, but in truth, liable to collapse into ruin at any moment.

The Demoness is gone; all that the sages accomplished has become a dream. In some unknown instant, the world may revert to the era before Princess Wencheng suppressed the demon. It is truly… terrifying, utterly terrifying. Standing within the mandala, Guan Wen felt an ever-increasing sense of imminent danger.

He was born with the ability to depict others' inner worlds; now, separated from the blank central circle, he keenly sensed the state beneath the earth's veins.

"Are you sure? I mean, can you really distinguish between 'emptiness' and 'death' below?" the distinguished figure asked with concern.

Guan Wen smiled wryly and abruptly shifted the topic. "I recall, when I was in Jinan, passing a cemetery one day, I saw someone mourning before a new tombstone. I distinctly felt the urn beneath was empty, unlike those in other graves, which were filled with unburned bones. I told them the urn might have been mixed up. At first they didn’t believe me, but when they opened it, it was indeed empty, misplaced by the funeral company. Emptiness and death are completely different concepts. The ancient 'box guessing' game tested the strength of the sixth sense. My ability to paint others’ inner worlds also relies on the sixth sense. When I say it is empty below, I mean there is nothing there—only a hollow earth vein. This is frightening; if the Demoness's corpse, bones, or soul were present, I would sense it. But now, there is nothing in my mind."

The distinguished figure pondered for a long time, his wrinkled face gradually relaxing, a smile of profound awakening and relief spreading across it.

"Why are you smiling? Are you amused by my esoteric analysis?" Guan Wen was uneasy.

The distinguished figure patted his shoulder, the smile deepening. "No, quite the contrary. I have waited nearly sixty years for this moment, finally meeting someone who understands. Sixty years ago, when I first gained the privilege to enter this place, I felt the Demoness’s disappearance—"

Guan Wen was startled, focusing intently on the distinguished figure’s face, then gazing upward at the blurry hollows along the interconnected walkways.