Guangmou#

With a monk's facade but a serpent's heart, He wields deceit, playing many parts. His desires shift, insatiably pursued, Faithless to his master, all teachings he eschewed.

Guangmou, "the Great Tactician", was not like his senior fellow pupil Guangzhi. From a young age, His heart yearned to be a legendary yaoguai master, remembered for ages.

But fate had other plans. When old Lingxuzi sent his beloved disciple to Guanyin Temple to be a monk, old White Snake Guai grew worried. The snake feared it was old Lingxuzi's ploy to win favor with the Black Bear Guai, and commanded Guangmou to join the monkhood as well.

Before he left, the snake warned him: never fall behind, least of all behind Guangzhi. But no matter how hard Guangmou tried, Elder Jinchi never seemed to favor him as much as Guangzhi, even when he learned faster and trained harder. Guangmou consoled himself, believing this stemmed not from his own failings, but from the snake's ham-fisted meddling, which had turned the Elder against him. He found solace in the notion of returning to the mountains one day, when he could embrace his yaoguai nature, unshackled by such trivial concerns.

Guangmou can still recall Jinchi's teachings: "You can be too extreme, too uncompromising. Always leave some room and some things unfinished." But the day Jinchi saw the Kasaya of Eversparks, he desired it so intensely that he forgot his own words and wept long into the night. Guangmou saw the thought taking root in the old monk's heart: to kill for this prize. Everyone shied away from the idea, but Guangzhi boldly spoke the truth.

Guangmou seethed with inexplicable rage. In his mind, a scheme within a scheme began to take shape. As Elder Jinchi drank tea with the two monks, Guangmou glimpsed an untamed malice in the monkey's eyes—a hunger for vengeance. Building on Guangzhi's gambit, Guangmou goaded and prodded, weaving a merciless plot that left no room for escape. The old monk was delighted, and for the first time, he acknowledged Guangmou's wit.

With his plan set, Guangmou knew that doom would strike that night. Summoning a gust of wind, he hid in the bamboo grove behind the mountain. As anticipated, a great fire broke out that night. But it failed to kill the two journeying monks as intended. Instead, it burned the entire temple to the ground.

Alas, the world harbors such petty souls, capable of ensnaring the lofty and vanquishing them with cunning plots. Perhaps this is what is meant by "slaying with a borrowed blade."