Bootlegging Mantras 1

It was a calm day at Red Willow Village as the sound of birds and people slowly mixed into a symphony of vitality, but there was an anomaly in there. At the northern side of the village there was a small but good looking buddhist monastery where people prayed, and sometimes even received some spiritual cleansing.

It was quite good for the monks who lived there did their chores,  prayed and then slept. There were also some other miniscule things they did as answer some questions about life or the Dao, but today that became a headache. A young bald monk about 25 years old was facing a young man of about 18. The man was spewing of questions after questions as the monk tried to remain calm and collected...least he punched the young fella.

"Hey monk, do ghosts and demon's really exist? Do those mantras you speak really ward them of? Isn't it just a scam?" smugly asked the young man, while the monk held his tongue for the uptenth time.

"There is no doubt of their existence. They are , and will be, as long as we humans exist. They are foul creatures which don't belong in this world, and yes,  the mantras keep them away. "

"Interesting....can you recite some of them for me? I'm just curious...

The monk raised an eyebrow at the suggestion,  but wasn't to surprised by it. Many others before him had requested something like that,  so he did as the young man said.....he had 'donated' for it after all. The monk stopped thinking and begun to chant several mantras on succession,  and with each one finished the young man smiled even more.

...........

After about 20 minutes the monk begun to get tired so he stopped his mantras and clasped his hands. " Amitabha Buddha! Sir ,I think this much is going to suffice for you.  After all there are others waiting." the monk gestured behind him as several other patrons were waiting in line. Feng Jian wanted to get some more mantras read to him by the monk   but it wasn't ment to be. He also clasped his hands in respect and stood up to leave. At that moment the monk saw something rectangular in the young man's hand , something he hadn't seen before.  It was a mix of metal and glass by the look of it, but he hadn't ever seen anything like it before.

 It raised his attention,  but as the day continued,  and he spoke to the other patrons, the strange thing slipped through his mind. 

........

On the other side of the village,  on a relatively new mud and brick house,  the young man entered with a smile on his face. His plan had worked successfully,  but as soon as he stepped foot on the house, a wooden bucket flew toward him.

"Agh...

He was caught by surprise as he only managed to put his hand in front of him,  the bucket hitting his elbow. Electrifying pain coursed through him as he held his elbow.

"Aaaahhh...what are you doing?! Why did you throw the bucket at me? Are you crazy!?"

"Hmph,  Feng Jian,  if I'm crazy then you would already be a dead man. Be grateful!" came the angry voice of a woman.  She was standing not far from the door,  her hands on her waist. She had long hair tied in a bun, wore a dirty apron and had a pair of tongs in her hand.  Her brows were somewhat bushy and wild, not unlike her attitude.

"Grateful for what? For almost hitting me in the head with a bucket? Haah...think again."

"You,  you....." angrily pointed the woman at Jian,  but seeing his determination she just harruphed before disappearing deeper into the house. "Just get me some fresh water from the well, at least that you can do."

Feng Jian looked at the empty wooden bucket lying on the floor, and after a while he picked it up and headed for the well. It wasn't to far, but as he was angry it felt much longer than usual. The bucket fell into the well with a splash indicating it hit the bottom,  and Jian started to slowly pull the bucket up. As he took the bucket of water he saw his reflection. 

The face of a young man of asian descent  greeted him; his eyes black,his black  hair short, his nose small and pointy, and his face clean shaven. Jian ran his ham through his short hair and sighed. Not to long ago he had beautiful curly hair and a masculine beard, but now he looked young asian rebellious teen. He didn't hate it , but he wasn't a fan of it either.

' Man no wonder his sister hates him so much, he looks like a punk, and he's actually a punk. Before he was beaten by those thugs of the Red Ginseng,  he squandered away much of what his parents left them. If I was in her place I would have beaten him instead...alas,  I just had to take over the body of this schmuck.'lamented Jian' But at least I have something to turn the tides with, or at least make my life better.'  A thought crossed his mind, and a golden smartphone appeared before him.  I was quite a sight,  in this world and the previous one, but even this had it's limitations. Jian unlocked the phone and a measly three app icons appeared on the screen; Voice Recorder , Camera , and Calculator.

It was a farse for a smartphone to hold such apps, but Feng Jian had only gotten three.  It was  frustrating,  but Jian wasn't stupid,  and his cheap mind he had cultivated on Earth for decades was still with him. He entered the voice recording app and in it were seven recordings. He pressed the first one and immediately a voice was heard reciting a buddhist mantra. If anyone from the village heard it they would immediately know that this voice belonged to one of the monks.

Jian smiled as he saw the sun pass the highest point in the sky , and slowly begin to descend.'Heh with this  I won't have to worry about anything. Neither demon , nor ghost will come near me.'