The tolling of the monastery bell drifted through the air. The steps, still damp from the morning fog, hadn't yet dried. Hollowbelly, supported by several trusted aides, walked up the stone stairs.
Hollowbelly and his entourage were dressed as pilgrims, avoiding any ostentation. Early this morning, his stomach pains had flared up again, and only now, on Sun Mountain, did he begin to feel some relief.
Word had it that the abbot of Universal Temple was a master called Fortune, renowned for his profound cultivation. Hollowbelly planned to donate a large sum of money and then meet Fortune.
At last, they reached the gate of Universal Temple. Hollowbelly was panting, and the sun had risen. But something was odd today—the temple gates were tightly shut, and no one knew why. Only an old monk stood at the entrance, reciting Buddhist chants.
“Amitabha, benefactor, please leave. Universal Temple will not open its doors today, and you have no connection to this place.”
As soon as the old monk spoke, Hollowbelly’s men began to clamor, but Hollowbelly just smiled and stopped them.
“Master, I’ve come today only to donate some money for the temple’s upkeep. Would you consider this...”
“Amitabha, benefactor, there’s no need. I’ve already told you, you have no connection to the Buddha here. You should go back down the mountain.”
Still unwilling to leave, Hollowbelly argued with the old monk at the gate. His hunger flared up again, so he grabbed some food from one of his aides and ate, easing the feeling a little though not completely.
The old monk saw everything and sighed before speaking.
“Benefactor, it seems you've had this illness for quite some time.”
Hollowbelly nodded immediately and explained his purpose, hoping that Master Fortune of Universal Temple would examine him.
The old monk chuckled and nodded.
“I am Fortune.”
A gleam flashed in Hollowbelly’s eyes. He could sense that this old monk was no ordinary person. He immediately knelt, begging Fortune to save him.
“Please rise, benefactor. I am no miracle doctor—I cannot cure your illness.”
Fortune stepped down the stairs, helped Hollowbelly up, and shook his head helplessly.
“Benefactor, let me teach you a method. Grind gold and silver into powder, mix it with water, and swallow it. Perhaps this will relieve your constant hunger.”
As soon as he heard this, Hollowbelly ordered his aides to do as instructed and go down the mountain. Hollowbelly sat on the ground, the wave of hunger overtaking him again, and he sat there in obvious discomfort.
Fortune sat cross-legged in front of him and began to speak of Buddhist teachings. Soon, Hollowbelly’s aides returned, carrying a cup of warm water and some gold powder, which they sprinkled into the water and handed to Hollowbelly. He gulped it down.
A warm current flowed through his stomach. Hollowbelly stared at Fortune—this method worked. Hollowbelly no longer felt hungry and now felt full, patting his belly in relief.
“It’s cured, Master, it’s truly cured! Thank you—you really are a divine monk.”
Hollowbelly immediately ordered someone to bring a bag of gold to Fortune, who accepted it without refusal.
“Thank you for your donation, benefactor. In the days to come, I will chant Buddhist prayers for you.”
Then Fortune explained to Hollowbelly that his stomach pains were caused by long-term hunger, but the method he taught could not cure the illness completely.
“Master, please save me! What exactly should I do?”
Hollowbelly only wanted to be cured quickly. He knew well what illness meant for someone in power. If he didn’t recover soon, he would suffer the same fate as Ding Lei before his death—a fate he absolutely refused to accept.
“You must let go of everything and return to your former self.”
This statement stunned Hollowbelly, even angered him. To ask him to give up everything now was impossible.
“Is there no other way, Master?”
Fortune shook his head.
“Benefactor, your illness is only just beginning. If you cannot let go of everything, the symptoms will worsen, and hunger will follow you for life. Eating gold and silver is only a temporary fix, and in time, even that may not fill your belly.”
Hollowbelly left Universal Temple. Though fearful, he would never let go of everything. Strangely, he didn’t feel hungry for the rest of the day.
The next morning, his stomach didn’t hurt either. Hollowbelly immediately ordered a cup of gold water, and after drinking it, the hunger vanished.
Returning to the center of power, Hollowbelly quickly returned to normal, though he now needed to eat gold and silver regularly to keep hunger at bay.
As the nation stabilized again, Hollowbelly’s fortune swelled. He made a windfall during the chaos and used the money to aid starving regions, preventing rebellion. The emperor admired Hollowbelly and promoted him.
In just two or three years, Hollowbelly became second only to the emperor. But there was one problem—the intervals between eating gold and jewels to relieve his hunger grew shorter, his health worsened, and he grew fatter.
He even needed help to attend court. One day, while speaking, Hollowbelly was suddenly struck by unbearable stomach pain and collapsed, screaming.
His career ended with that scream. He was ordered to return to his hometown to recover, but though Hollowbelly was unwilling, his body could no longer endure.
As Hollowbelly returned home, he had his wealth moved as well. He knew many underlings were eager for his downfall and to take his place, so he decided to recuperate for a while before returning to power, always wary of others.
When Hollowbelly returned home in high spirits, people from all walks of life came out to greet him—except for the people from his own hometown.
Hollowbelly soon learned that the town where he was born was now deserted. It was haunted—many people had died there, all men, their flesh gnawed clean to the bone.
Hearing such a terrifying tale, Hollowbelly didn’t believe it. He settled into a grand mansion in the city. But after returning home, his illness only worsened.
Now, the pain in his stomach felt like a giant stone. No matter how much gold or silver he ate, the hunger only grew worse. He would often scream in his room from hunger.
One night, Hollowbelly finally managed to sleep, but in his dream, he saw a woman—Wen Mei, the woman who had given him so much. Her smile was as lovely as the day they first met.
“Wen Mei, Wen Mei...”
In the darkness, Hollowbelly called out and embraced Wen Mei, but immediately felt something hard in his arms. In a daze, he looked and saw not Wen Mei, but a skeleton, its jaws moving with Wen Mei’s voice.
“You’ve come back.”
Hollowbelly woke with a start. The next day, his illness grew worse. He was terrified of death—if he died, everything he had struggled to gain would be lost, especially his vast wealth. He couldn’t bear to let it go.
Strange things began happening in the mansion. The first to die was a guard—fine one night, but dead the next morning. The most chilling part was that the guard’s flesh was completely gone, leaving only bloody bones and his clothes.
One man after another died, panic spread through the mansion. Hollowbelly was powerless to intervene. His children brought in Taoist priests and monks, but those who came died that very night.
People fled Hollowbelly’s mansion in terror, even his most loyal aides ran away, leaving him alone. He moved into the treasury, surrounded by piles of treasure, surviving on nothing but his wealth.
Strangely, Hollowbelly didn’t get thinner—instead, he grew fatter, to the point where he could hardly walk.
Hollowbelly awaited death, knowing his days were numbered. But his wealth meant everything to him—he would never give it away, and would rather die together with it.
One cold night, a breeze swept in and the treasury doors creaked open. A flash of purple skirt fluttered in the wind. Hollowbelly woke in fright, recognizing it as Wen Mei’s favorite dress.
“Is that you, Wen Mei?”
The woman stood with her back to him, then turned suddenly with a chilling laugh. Hollowbelly screamed—the corpse was just like the skeleton from his dream.
“Do you love me?”
The skeleton crawled onto Hollowbelly, and he screamed in terror.
“Love—I love you, of course I love you...”
The skeleton kept groping over him. Hollowbelly, drenched in sweat, cried and begged for mercy. Slowly, Wen Mei rose, floated into the air, let out a piercing wail, and vanished into the night.
Hollowbelly finally breathed a sigh of relief, but was immediately struck by a violent hunger. He grabbed fistfuls of money and stuffed them into his mouth, eating and eating. Gradually, his movements slowed, his eyes bulged, and he collapsed with a thud, treasure scattered around him—Hollowbelly was dead.
In a daze, Hollowbelly woke up and saw his dead body below. He wept bitterly, unwilling to accept it, but his body felt light. Suddenly, a fierce yellow wind swept him up and dragged him away.
“Brother, please spare me—I’ll give you money.”
A young man appeared, holding a small gourd, ignoring Hollowbelly’s pleas and sealing him inside the gourd.
When Hollowbelly saw the outside again, he was shackled and escorted by men who looked like guards.
“So I’m already dead?”
Hollowbelly gave a desolate laugh. He had no idea what had happened, and could only keep laughing.