Atop Mount Sumeru, Buddhist chants roll across the summit as golden light stretches ten thousand feet and blossoms into a rain of flowers. A youth in coarse monk's robes approaches barefoot on a cloud, his expression as still as a deep pool. He sits cross-legged in a corner of the great hall, surrounded by disciples of the Western Teachings. After transmigrating three hundred years into the past, he has taken human form and joined their ranks. The Investiture of the Gods Tribulation is imminent, and this place is a safe haven. When Buddhism flourishes after the westward journey to spread its teachings, he can get a head start. Unfortunately, after hundreds of years of swallowing his grievances, he still doesn't even have an official name. Just as he settles in, Zhunti Buddha Mother's gaze passes over the packed hall and falls on me.
