Lu Qian had a bit of a wicked sense of humor.
He put on a full procession modeled on some memories he’d seen before — the whole show of an “evil Buddha” parade.
Eighteen hulking great monks carried a grand sedan chair, over which a golden brocade parasol was held.
Around them were three hundred and sixty burly great monks, some carrying gongs, some carrying drums, and many shouldering seven- or eight-zhang-long specially made white-bone horns.
There were another seven hundred and twenty burly great monks holding censers, waving brocade parasols, cradling small bells, small temple bowls, wooden fish and golden bells in their hands.
These great monks made up an extravagantly ornate honor guard, clustering before and behind Lu Qian.
With every step they took, one of them would recite a syllable of a sutra — but the order in which they opened their mouths was strangely staggered.
When one great monk spoke the first syllable of a chant, the great monk directly behind him kept his mouth tightly shut.
When the first monk spoke the second syllable, the monk behind him began to speak the first.
When the first monk spoke the third syllable, the monk behind him spoke the second, and a monk further back then began the first syllable.