Rakshasi#

From dawn to dusk, toil's bitter strain, Day and night, home's burdens remain. Destiny shows no mercy, merciful she became Why is her household light the hardest to sustain?

Mount Lingshan, Vulture Peak, before the Thunderclap Temple. Rakshasi clasped her intertwined hands tightly, steadying her trembling body, striving to appear calm and serene.

She had traveled to many places on this journey: domains of the yaoguai kings she befriended in the mortal realm, abodes of the gods she met in the celestial realm, the immortal islands on the sea, and even the underworld. She had visited them all.

She also went to the Tushita Palace to seek advice from her master. Yet the latter had only offered a heartfelt persuasion: "I ordered you to raise a child, but I did not ask you to be a true mother. Let the boy stir his trouble; as long as you and your husband stay out of it, you will be safe."

Her master's words left her in despair. She knew that no protection would the Flaming Mountains receive. This was their destiny ordained.

But she knew her son all too well—-reckless and wild, vengeful and unforgiving. After all the suffering he had endured over the years, unless he could vent his anger, the only way to resolve the siege of Flaming Mountains would be to break his spine.

Thus, she came here

For revenge.

How to exact it?

She had no idea, her mind a blank void.

"Lady Rakshasi, the master summons you inside." Ananda stood at the temple door, his voice as gentle as ever.

She straightened her back, gripping the Plantain Fan tightly in her hand, and hoarsely replied, "Thank you, Venerable."

As she walked into the hall, flanked by the Eight Great Vajras and five hundred Arhats, she seemed to hear faint laughter, but all she saw in her peripheral vision were solemn and dignified figures.

Reaching the base of the lotus throne, she knelt with her head held high, clutching the fan tightly.

"Rakshasi, what brings you here to seek an audience with me?"

She remained silent, gripping the fan with all her might, ready to unleash its divine wind at any moment.

The hall was deathly quiet.

All eyes were on her; she could feel the Vajras glaring with their angry eyes, the Arhats staring with their wrathful gazes, and all the divine figures transforming into fierce visages.

"I..." She lowered her head. "'.."

"I greet you on behalf of my master."

A booming laughter echoed, deafening. Within that laughter, she heard the cries of an infant, the innocent giggles of a child, the roars of an adolescent, and the cycle ofblooming and withering flowers, the growth of grass and the flight of orioles over millennia.

She heard the embers extinguishing in the Flaming Mountains.