Chapter Two: The Jade Tree of Enlightenment

The dormitory at the military academy was spacious, with twelve single beds arranged side by side in each room, perfectly accommodating the personnel of an army squad.

“Zhiheng, why did you come back so late? The lights-out signal is about to sound—wash up and get to bed quickly!” Miao Yongyi called out to Ning Zhiheng as he returned.

Miao Yongyi was one of Ning Zhiheng’s closest friends at the academy. Zhiheng had three particularly good friends among his classmates, and Miao Yongyi was also his former schoolmate from Yongning Third Middle School in Hangzhou. It was under Miao’s encouragement that they had both applied for the Central Army Officer Academy. The two were as close as brothers, bound by deep friendship.

Ning Zhiheng nodded in acknowledgment, offering no explanation. He knew that the more one said, the more one risked erring; Miao Yongyi’s question was merely casual, not requiring a deliberate answer. Zhiheng was naturally reticent, and Miao Yongyi, familiar with his temperament, paid it no mind.

Yet in the past month, his friend and brother had grown even more silent. Sometimes, he wouldn’t utter more than two words in an entire day. How would he ever manage to interact with others in the army?

Just then, the door swung open and two people rushed in—Xia Yuanming and Ke Chengyun, Ning Zhiheng’s other friends, had returned.

Zhiheng realized that, at this hour, everyone was usually resting, but tonight, several classmates had come back even later than he.

“Yongyi, Zhiheng, did you hear? On the parade ground, so many students were asking Instructor Shao for news. He said our squad will all be assigned to the Fifty-Second Army—the best-equipped force of all!” Xia Yuanming announced excitedly.

“Lucky us! The whole squad’s going together, all transferred to the Fifty-Second Army. I hear there’s about to be a major battle—several armies encircling those few enemy troops. It’ll be easy! We’ll earn military honors right after graduation—where else could you find such fortune?” Ke Chengyun was just as thrilled. At their age, they all yearned for glory. Learning they would graduate early and head to the front lines, their only feeling was excitement, not a hint of fear.

Miao Yongyi, caught up in the commotion, asked with curiosity, “That’s truly good news. Honors aside, the best part is our brothers won’t be separated—we’ll be able to look out for each other on the battlefield.”

The others in the dorm rose from their beds and joined the excited conversation. To have trustworthy comrades in battle was a blessing. After two years as classmates, they had all eagerly awaited graduation, longing to distinguish themselves on the battlefield.

Only Ning Zhiheng responded with a smile, saying nothing. He watched as his classmates engaged in lively discussion, but his heart remained calm as a placid lake. He knew that in the coming fourteen years, these passionate youths would fight desperately amidst the chaos of war, sacrificing for their country and families.

They were the luckiest generation of soldiers, having encountered the most heroic and tragic era in modern Chinese history, giving blood and life for their nation. Yet they were also the unluckiest, paying unimaginable costs in endless wars—just in the War of Resistance alone, tens of millions of Chinese soldiers died. Among these vibrant lives before him, few would survive the coming catastrophe.

The night deepened, and his classmates fell asleep, but Ning Zhiheng lay awake, lost in his memories.

He had originally been an ordinary civil servant in the twenty-first century, briefly enjoying favor and success in his youth thanks to a supportive leader.

But good fortune did not last; his promising superior suddenly died of illness. As a secretary, Ning Zhiheng was quickly sidelined by the new leader and relegated to the archives as a deputy director.

Two more years passed, and his wife, seeing no hope, left him, taking their daughter with her. He held no resentment—his wife was exceptional, and had chosen him for his prospects. She could not be expected to spend her life with a mediocre man.

Afterwards, he abandoned his ambitions and, out of boredom, developed an interest in collecting antiques. He spent his days reading, wandering antique streets, picking up inexpensive trinkets and jade artifacts.

One day, at a street stall, he spotted a creamy-white bodhi seed, about an inch long. He immediately felt a mysterious force urging him to possess it at all costs, sensing inexplicably that this bodhi seed was his soul’s vessel.

He hardly heard the vendor’s rambling sales pitch, as if bewitched, instinctively handing over all his money to buy the seed.

The vendor watched him leave, baffled, thinking how easy it was to dupe such a fool these days.

He returned home in a daze, cradling the bodhi seed in his hands, unable to take his eyes off it. He watched as it shifted from solid to ethereal, slowly merging with his body, vanishing before his eyes like magic.

He felt a pure, ancient power infuse his mind, severing all connection with the outside world. His consciousness shrank to the size of a common infant, as if reduced tenfold. He looked around—the space was like an isolated island, the depths of his own mind.

At the very center stood a solitary bodhi tree, lush and translucent, radiating gentle, crystalline light that enveloped his consciousness.

The tree had three branches; two were bare, while the third bore seven leaves and a grape-like fruit, all as translucent as the trunk.

The entire tree shone with warm spring light, bathing him in its glow.

Like a famished infant, he greedily absorbed the radiance, feeling as if drinking sweet dew; the mysterious energy ceaselessly nourished him, bringing utter comfort.

The leaves and fruit swayed gently without wind, and faintly, solemn chanting of Buddhist scriptures resonated from them.

Instantly, he was captivated by the chanting, his mind wholly absorbed and clear, instinctively sitting cross-legged under the tree, reciting along with the scripture.

In a haze, he felt the fruit drop softly onto him, instantly dissolving into green liquid and merging with his body. It brimming with vitality, slowly spread throughout his whole being, permeating his deepest essence, until he lost consciousness.

He did not know how much time had passed; when he awoke, he was Ning Zhiheng, a student about to graduate from the Whampoa Military Academy in 1936, the twenty-fifth year of the Republic.

After the initial fear and confusion, he gradually integrated the memories of this life, adapting to the people and events around him.

Now, he emptied his thoughts, entering a meditative state, his consciousness returning to his mind. Once again, he was seated beneath the bodhi tree, though the fruit on the branch had vanished. Only the seven leaves remained, gently swaying, still echoing the Sanskrit chant.

Ning Zhiheng sighed softly. After a month of exploration, he realized the fruit’s disappearance must have resulted from his transmigration. This bodhi tree was the true form of the miraculous bodhi seed, taking root and growing in his consciousness space. It possessed mysterious energy that could affect him.

Each night, he would meditate in this space. Whenever he heard the chanting, he would unconsciously recite along. With each recitation, a leaf would loosen.

Eventually, a leaf detached, drifting onto him and dissolving into jade liquid, fusing with his body.

This time, he distinctly felt the jade liquid’s effects: it transformed into pure energy, like a spring flowing into parched earth, permeating his flesh, bones, and meridians lightly as mist, nourishing his somewhat fragile meridians, spreading vitality. His spirit was so refreshed and comfortable he nearly groaned aloud—such ecstasy!

Upon waking at dawn, he sensed changes. The sound of wind rustling the grass outside was clear to his ears.

He could even smell the intensified odors of sweat and feet from his classmates in the room, almost suffocating.

He slowly opened his eyes; the room was dim, but he could sharply see a spider hanging in the corner, its threads clearly visible.

All of this showed that his physical abilities had leaped to a new level overnight. Hearing, smell, and vision were greatly enhanced; everything he encountered was more vivid, clear, and vibrant.

Fortunately, his nature was reserved, or he might have cried out in excitement. Controlling his emotions, he dressed and went out to the parade ground.

He stretched, punched and kicked; each movement felt solid and powerful, as if bearing a mountain’s weight. After a round of exercise, his bones and blood felt expanded, his body filled with inexhaustible strength—so different from his previous practice.

He closed his eyes, feeling the flow of blood and energy within, pulsing rhythmically with each breath. A warm current surged through him, connecting every part of his body. After a long time, he opened his eyes, feeling clear-headed and full of energy.

He could now confirm that the magical power of the leaf had drastically improved his physical abilities.

Six leaves remained on the tree; if all were used, his body might evolve to a terrifying level, far surpassing ordinary humans. Ning Zhiheng was filled with anticipation.

But the fruit and leaves were limited—once consumed, how could they be replenished?

That was a crucial question to solve: he needed to understand and unlock the secrets of the bodhi tree in his mind.

This was his lifeline in this turbulent era; though he had worked for the government in his previous life, in his years of disappointment he had embraced Buddhism, seeking spiritual solace and peace for his soul.

He never imagined that the bodhi seed he acquired by chance would be so miraculous, granting him such a fantastical destiny.

Could there truly be mysterious forces unknown to humanity, beings who look down upon mankind as ants? If not, how could his experiences be explained? All this had completely altered his understanding of the world, leaving him bewildered.

As for whether the bodhi tree in his mind had other wonders, merely improving his constitution filled him with joy. He believed he would surely discover more miracles in days to come.