Once there was a Horse Thief of perverse nature, human in face but beast in heart, mad with jealousy.
The Master passed me the seal of the sect; his fangs bared, eyes split, oozing ichor.
Faking death, posing as a corpse, putting on an absurd show; pointing at a deer and calling it a horse, a farce played out.
Pity poor Master Wu, whose hemorrhoids were not yet healed; his soul flew to the Jade Pool, his pain impossible to hide.
A false tomb was built to bury the Master, spreading deceit; his true body sealed in mud, fed to poisonous sores.
The student surpassing the teacher became a laughingstock; devouring the Master and gnawing his veins, becoming a monstrous sin.
Now he commands thousands of stone warriors, strong and mighty; the narcissus spits forth its stamens, blood-light flooding the scene.
He vows to grind the lotus into dust, to make a chalice of the horse's skull and offer it to Heaven and Earth!
I urge you, do not trust the robed and capped guest; a white lotus molded into a demon's visage.
If one day you see the stone men smile, then prepare narcissus to comfort the Impermanent.