Chapter 129 - 24: The Little Monk of the Sand Temple (2)
"I had worse luck than you. I was abandoned in the desert as an infant, never knowing who my parents were. If not for Buddha's mercy and my master—the former abbot of this Sand Temple—finding me by chance, I might have been dried up like a mummy in the desert heat or become a snack for the desert wolves.
But I was also luckier than you. I wasn't made a Jinchūriki until I was ten years old, arranged by the First Kazekage, Retto. Before that, I was cared for by my master. Every day, I listened to his teachings on Buddhist principles, learned to read and write, meditated, and lived a carefree life. A bean paste bun or a bowl of plain noodle soup could bring me immense joy. I was a happy little monk, haha."
As Fenfuku spoke, a blissful smile spread across his face, as if reminiscing about those joyful days. Han sat cross-legged, listening intently, seemingly able to feel the serenity of that time.
"When I turned ten, my master called me to his side and said, 'My disciple, I am about to pass away, but there are two matters weighing heavily on my heart.'
I quickly asked, 'What are they?'
Haha, at that time, I was young and naive. I didn't fully understand what 'passing away' meant. I thought it was simply going to the distant Western Pure Land to meet Buddha, and he'd return after a while.
My master said, 'The first matter is you. You're still young, inexperienced, and know little of the worldly ways. After I leave, I don't know how you'll manage.'
I replied, 'Master, don't worry. Rest assured. The donation box has money, the kitchen has food, the backyard has a well and a vegetable garden—I won't starve. I'll stay in the temple and continue studying Buddhist teachings. Except for buying food, I won't need to go anywhere.'
My master thought for a while, nodded, and said, 'That's true. The second matter is... this.'
Saying that, he lifted his robe to reveal an 卍 seal on his abdomen, just like yours.
My master said, 'Inside this seal is a big fellow with a bad temper. I can't take it with me when I leave, and I don't know what to do about it.'