Chapter 61: The Sweeping Monk

The ninth day of the twelfth lunar month.

An Ziyang left the An estate and spurred his horse forward on the journey.

Quanzhou Prefecture was not far from Shaolin. That same afternoon, An Ziyang arrived outside the mountain gates of Shaolin.

Tethering his horse, An Ziyang stepped forward and knocked upon the mountain gate.

Before long, a welcoming monk approached and bowed to him.

"This benefactor, I truly apologize. Our temple has suffered a disaster recently, and many buildings within have been damaged. We are currently undergoing repairs and are inconveniently situated to receive pilgrims. If you are here to offer incense and worship the Buddha, please return and visit us another day."

The news of the Ming Cult breaching Shaolin's mountain gates, following Abbot Xingchi's passage into nirvana that very day and the dispersal of the pugilistic practitioners, had already spread far and wide. Shaolin had no intention of concealing the news.

An Ziyang addressed the welcoming monk.

"Master, I am not a pilgrim. I have been entrusted by someone to come and seek an audience with someone here."

"Oh?"

The welcoming monk looked An Ziyang up and down.

As a welcoming monk of Shaolin, his martial arts were far from ordinary, and his discernment was exceptional. At a single glance, he could perceive An Ziyang's martial arts foundation, and judging by his attire, he came from a wealthy background.

Yet looking at his complexion, he resembled a dissolute wanderer who frequented pleasure quarters, his vital essence somewhat depleted—commonly known as a deficient constitution.

Such a person, what kind of person was he coming to Shaolin to find?

"I wonder who entrusted the benefactor, and whom you have come to seek?"

"It is not that this monk wishes to pry endlessly, but it is my duty. Without asking clearly, it is difficult for me to announce you."

An Ziyang pondered for a moment.

He was also somewhat uncertain. Why would Li Miao, an Embroidered Uniform Guard, send him to find the newly appointed abbot of Shaolin... Could it be that Li Miao was planning to stir up trouble and was using him to test the waters?

After thinking it over, he decided to speak the truth: "I was entrusted by Hero Li Miao to seek the esteemed abbot of your temple, Master Yongjie."

To his surprise, the moment those words left his mouth, the welcoming monk's expression changed instantly.

"Hero Li!?"

"Where is he now? Did he not come with you?"

"Why did he not come personally? Could he be in some trouble?"

"Does he require assistance from Shaolin?"

The welcoming monk's rapid succession of questions left An Ziyang somewhat at a loss.

"No, it is just that Hero Li had matters to attend to and could not get away, so he asked me to deliver a message to Master Yongjie. If it is inconvenient for your temple, I can return in a few days..."

"Convenient! Very convenient!"

A smile blossomed on the welcoming monk's face, one so warm it almost violated monastic precepts.

"Hero Li's affairs are Shaolin's affairs. At any time, it is convenient!"

"May I ask your name?"

"An Ziyang."

"Young Master An, since you are a friend of Hero Li, how could Shaolin possibly treat you with discourtesy? Please, follow me inside."

With that, the welcoming monk reached out and grabbed An Ziyang's wrist, ushering him into the temple with the utmost enthusiasm.

An Ziyang felt a sense of déjà vu.

When he used to frequent houses of pleasure, the madams would always drag him about in much the same manner.

Yet this was Shaolin, and the one dragging him was a monk!

No matter how benevolent Shaolin monks might be, when facing martial artists, a certain arrogance would still inevitably seep through their bones, consciously or unconsciously.

A man like him, whose constitution was depleted from indulgence, would not even receive a pleasant look from monks at ordinary temples. To be welcomed into Shaolin with such warmth truly stirred a fluttering nervousness akin to his very first experience of romance in his youth.

Walking into the temple, An Ziyang looked around and could not help but let out a soft sigh.

Shaolin had indeed suffered a terrible catastrophe; ruined walls were everywhere, and the sounds of reconstruction now rang out with clanging and crashing.

As the welcoming monk led An Ziyang halfway, a deep voice rang out from the side.

"Hengshu, who is this benefactor? Where are you taking him?"

Mid-speech, a tall monk strode over. His robes were neat and meticulous, his shoulders broad and waist thick, with a stern expression and two deep nasolabial folds framing a resolute chin.

An Ziyang recognized him at a glance—this was none other than Hengchang, the head of Shaolin's Hall of Discipline.

*This is bad. This man is the most stern and rigid, and the most fiercely loyal to Shaolin. If he discovers that the Embroidered Uniform Guard has sent someone to find the new abbot, there is bound to be trouble!*

The welcoming monk, however, merely smiled and said, "Abbot Head, this Benefactor An is a friend of Hero Li and has come to see the abbot."

"Hero Li?" Hengchang asked in surprise.

"Where is he now? Why didn't he come himself? Could he have encountered trouble—"

The welcoming monk smiled. "Abbot Head, I have already asked those questions. Hero Li simply could not get away."

"I see." Hengchang nodded. "You may go about your business. The abbot is currently at the Scripture Pavilion in the back mountain; you cannot enter there. Since he is a friend of Hero Li, I will escort him."

The welcoming monk nodded and turned to leave.

"Benefactor An, please follow me."

***

Shaolin, Scripture Pavilion.

Yongjie sat cross-legged on a rush mat, his face already slick with cold sweat and his entire body trembling.

He had managed to endure it when Li Miao "reshaped his appearance" that day, but at this moment he looked utterly wretched, as if undergoing unimaginable torture.

An old monk walked out from beside a bookshelf, holding an old, worn broom, sweeping as he approached Yongjie's side.

"Still not working."

"Although our Shaolin teachings do not strictly demand the severing of worldly ties, practicing our martial arts still requires tranquility. With your mind in such complete chaos, how can you practice?"

Yongjie suddenly opened his eyes, panting heavily as beads of sweat the size of soybeans continuously dripped down.

After a long moment, he clenched his teeth and spoke.

"Resentment, incomprehension, grievance, the blazing fire of the five aggregates... This disciple simply cannot dispel them."

The old monk shook his head.

"Our Buddhist martial arts are the most susceptible to leading one astray into demonic paths. Therefore, from shallow to profound, one must attain corresponding mastery of the scriptures before practicing them. Training the way you are doing is practically rushing headlong toward cultivation deviation."

He let out a long sigh.

"Very well. Whatever you wish to ask, speak."

Yongjie suddenly turned his head to look at the old monk, appearing hesitant. Yet after a moment, he still clenched his teeth and anxiously blurted out.

"When the Ming Cult breached the mountain gates that day, why didn't you intervene?"

"With you here... what need was there for my master to exhaust the temple's foundation, drain his vitality to the absolute limit, and pass away?"

The old monk replied indifferently, "Because I did not dare."

"You did not dare!?" Yongjie was shocked.

"You... did not dare to contend with Ji Tianrui? And so... you stood by and watched my master die!?"

"No."

The old monk waved a hand.

"What I fear is not Ji Tianrui, and Shaolin does not fear the Ming Cult."

"It is..."

He raised a finger and pointed toward the sky.

"The Ming Cult only wanted a few things; they did not wish to destroy our Shaolin sect."

"Xingchi did not have to die either, but he could not bear to see Shaolin disciples killed and wounded, so he forcibly used his own life in exchange for a few more of our disciples to survive."

"He was also a fool."

At this, the old monk let out a long sigh.

"I am a person who must exist, yet ought not to exist."

"If I had intervened and been seen by others, Shaolin would truly have suffered a catastrophic doom."