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Incense sticks break, the iron censer cold,
Frost cuts, winds slash, thin are the monk's robes.
Bitter be the path of cultivation's quest,
Elusive bliss, hidden truths, the soul's dreams oppressed.
Years ago, a merchant sought to cross the New West to conduct business. He should have taken the official road around the mountain, but due to a limited budget and dwindling supplies, he decided to take a shortcut over the mountain.
Not long after venturing upon the mountain, he lost his way. The path was blocked by snow, and the cold was biting. The merchant, both freezing and frightened, was at a loss, when he saw an ascetic monk, bare-chested and carrying a censer, passing by on a nearby slope. In a moment of desperation, the merchant hurriedly dragged his goods and followed the monk. The monk walked slowly, but the merchant, burdened by his goods, moved even slower and could never quite catch up.
In this manner, the two of them, one leading and one following, climbed to the mountain's peak, where a grand temple stood. Overjoyed, the merchant planned to rest there and hire some monks to help carry his goods over the mountain, but as he approached the temple gate, he became wary. There were many monks standing like statues in the snow, completely motionless.
The merchant was alarmed and frantically searched for the monk who had led him. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and saw several monks carrying censers walking among the frozen bodies. They surrounded the merchant, and just as he was about to plead for his life, a cold mist rose from the censers, freezing him in place among the snow-covered corpses.
A merchant needed to travel across a region called the New West. He could have taken the safe official road around the mountain, but he was short on money and supplies, so he chose a dangerous shortcut that went over the mountain instead.
Once on the mountain, the merchant got lost. The path was blocked by snow and the cold was severe. While stranded and desperate, he noticed an ascetic monk passing on a nearby slope. The monk was bare-chested and carried a censer. Hoping for help, the merchant followed the monk.
The monk walked slowly, and the merchant, weighed down by his goods, was even slower and could not catch up. They still made it to the mountaintop where a large temple stood. The merchant was relieved and planned to rest and to hire monks to carry his goods the rest of the way.
But when he reached the temple gate he saw many monks standing like statues in the snow, motionless. Alarmed, he searched for the monk who had led him. Then he heard footsteps and saw several monks with censers walking among the frozen bodies. They surrounded him.
As they closed in, a cold mist rose from the censers and it froze the merchant in place among the snow-covered corpses. The story ends with the merchant turned into one more frozen body at the temple, showing that his shortcut and desperate decision led to his death and that the temple and its monks were deadly rather than a place of refuge.