HTCYH Ch 18

Chapter 18: Game Preparations (Gift Giving)

Buddhism was widespread in Asia, and inland regions predominantly promoted orthodox Mahayana Buddhism. The “Mahayana” in Mahayana Buddhism referred to the Bodhisattva path, a vehicle of practice aimed at attaining Buddhahood for the salvation of countless sentient beings.

In contrast, Thailand’s dominant faith was Theravāda Buddhism, which, alongside Mahayana Buddhism, is regarded as one of the two fundamental branches of modern Buddhism. Theravāda is also sometimes referred to as “Hinayana Buddhism,” a term historically used by Mahayana Buddhists to categorize the Śrāvakayāna and Pratyekabuddhayāna (also called Pratyekayāna) teachings. The reason for this classification lies in the fact that these two vehicles did not take the Bodhisattva path—pursuing Buddhahood for the sake of others—as their goal of practice. Instead, they sought personal liberation (moksha) and were thus considered by Mahayana adherents to be inferior and lacking in nobility.

Modern religious scholars generally agree that the term “Hinayana Buddhism” does not denote a separate religion. Rather, it refers to a specific set of doctrines or ideological characteristics—for example, focusing solely on one’s own enlightenment, accepting the doctrine of anattā (non-self) without embracing the Mahayana sutras as canonical, and adhering primarily to the Five Precepts.

Put simply, Hinayana Buddhism emphasizes self-liberation. The word “small” in this context carries connotations such as “poor,” “lowly,” “abandoned,” “insufficient,” and “flawed,” extending even to meanings like “despicable.” “Self-liberation” here implies salvation of oneself alone—a potentially selfish and even ruthless endeavor. It is partly because of this perception that many view Thailand’s “little ghosts” and amulets (佛牌, phra pidta) as sinister yet potent. The saying “easy to invite a Buddha, hard to send them away” (請佛容易送佛難) also originates from this belief.

However, these ominous practices and beliefs were rarely found in major tourist temples. Within Wat Pho, Tu Si and Wuming wandered quietly, admiring the architecture and statues. Visitors in the temple were also appropriately dressed and moved with gentle comportment, together preserving the temple’s sanctity and solemn atmosphere.

After a brief tour, Tu Si’s gaze lingered on a master performing blessings for Buddha amulets in a rather perfunctory manner. A steady stream of devotees came forward to purchase amulets. The longer Tu Si observed, the more intrigued he became. Just as he was about to step closer to examine them and perhaps buy a particularly attractive amulet, Wuming grabbed his wrist.

A soft, amused voice sounded near Tu Si’s ear, startlingly close: “Interested in Buddhist artifacts?”

Tu Si tilted his head slightly and realized Wuming was leaning in so close that his lips were nearly brushing his ear. He inhaled deeply, catching the faint fragrance clinging to Wuming’s body—a welcome contrast to the heavy, oppressive sandalwood scent lingering in the air. Suppressing a small shiver, he replied softly, “Mm. I feel like having a bit of faith isn’t bad. When you’ve hit rock bottom, praying can be a kind of… psychological comfort, I guess.”

Before he could finish processing his own words, something unfamiliar settled against his wrist. Startled, he looked down and saw a loosely strung bracelet of cinnabar beads. Though it appeared fragile—something that might snap off with a flick—no matter how he tugged, it remained firmly in place.

It was a 108-bead mālā: tiny cinnabar beads the size of mung beans, capped with a head bead of black sandalwood. Interspersed among them were vivid, jade-green翡翠 (feicui) beads, with a golden side charm fashioned like an ancient coin, a hollowed-out gourd-shaped “guru bead,” and two tiny bells whose material was indeterminate. The red and green interwove strikingly yet harmoniously, devoid of the gaudiness that red-green combinations often suggest—exquisite and refined instead.

When Tu Si shook his wrist, the bells chimed with a faint, ethereal clarity—delicate yet soothing. Perplexed, he looked toward Wuming. Wuming smiled and said, “This bracelet offers a degree of purification and protection. You’ll inevitably come into contact with pollutants in the future. It may help you, even if only slightly. Try not to take it off. It’s been consecrated by a venerable monk. You can even use it for prayer—it’s bound to be more effective than some random amulet you might buy.”

Tu Si gently rubbed the beads between his fingers. Under the sunlight, flecks of golden light refracted within the cinnabar, scattering into his yellow-green eyes until they sparkled brightly.

The scorching sun gleamed against the gilded temple roof, radiating blinding gold. That light reflected onto Tu Si’s blonde hair, softening into pale white shimmer rather than harsh glare. The effect rendered him almost ethereal, sacred even. Meanwhile, the cinnabar on his wrist glowed vividly crimson—a mark so striking that Wuming felt an almost primal urge: to seize that pale wrist and bite down hard, until the red turned into true drops of blood.

Suppressing the violent impulse with an inward snarl, Wuming forced his expression into something even kinder and more genial, biting his molars so hard pain shot through him, clearing his mind.

By the time Tu Si had finished admiring the bracelet, his eyes were bright with delight. Tilting his head in thought, he abruptly reached for Wuming’s right hand. From his fingertips extended delicate tendrils that coiled around Wuming’s wrist, forming into a bracelet of their own.

When Wuming looked down, he saw a golden cuff engraved with runes, broad and ornate. He tugged at it—yet it didn’t budge. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at Tu Si, clearly awaiting an explanation.

Tu Si studied him for a moment, frowning slightly. The gold seemed too flashy for Wuming; it didn’t suit him. So he lowered his head again, adjusting the form until it became a dark woven cord, simple and understated. At its center rested a white-jade plaque carved with a delicate cluster of dodder flowers (Cuscuta chinensis, 菟絲花).

Once satisfied with the understated elegance—low-key yet refined, fitting even with Wuming’s military attire—Tu Si stepped back, examined it from several angles, and finally nodded with approval. He beamed. “A return gift! Dodder has great medicinal value: it clears heat and detoxifies, cools the blood to stop bleeding, strengthens the spleen, and dispels dampness. If you get hurt or poisoned, it can help you recover! And I can use it to locate you quickly!”

As Wuming listened, he absently traced the carved dodder blossoms. When Tu Si mentioned its tracking function, Wuming couldn’t help but laugh. This little thing marked people so blatantly—without shame or hesitation. “Mm. I like it very much,” he murmured. “I can also find you through the cinnabar bracelet. Would you mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Tu Si asked, puzzled.

Wuming chuckled. “Aren’t you worried I might catch you in the middle of doing something bad?”

Realization dawned on Tu Si. He hastily wove two fine rings of gold thread around the jade plaque and said brightly, “There! Now I won’t know your location. If you break the threads, I’ll know. This way, you don’t have to worry about me catching you doing bad things! Don’t worry—I never eavesdrop or spy!”

The vein at Wuming’s temple twitched; the smile on his face nearly cracked. Through clenched teeth, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it! You walking surveillance system!”

His voice was so low that Tu Si didn’t catch it. Mistaking his reaction for dislike, Tu Si reached out to remove the bracelet—only for Wuming to snatch his hand back first. He snapped the gold threads himself, then ruffled Tu Si’s hair roughly.

“I don’t do bad things! Let’s go! We’ll check the street markets and those little hidden temples. Tourist temples like this won’t have any information on Kuman Thong.”1

Footnotes

Kuman Thong (古曼童) – A type of Thai amulet believed to house the spirit of a child. Traditionally, it’s thought to offer protection, wealth, or other blessings but is also surrounded by darker legends, including ties to necromantic rituals in folklore. ↩