The Shaolin Abbot Born in the 1980s

Chapter 6: Finally, Someone Joins the Ranks

Huo Yuanzhen climbed down from the table and said to the two, “Fellow monks, how was today’s take?” “Ah! Junior Brother, this… this is truly miraculous. Can you believe it? We actually collected over two hundred copper coins today, plus a little over three liang of silver. We’ve struck it rich, we’ve struck it rich… Er, Amitabha Buddha, may the Buddha forgive me—this disciple has been greedy.” Huo Yuanzhen chuckled to himself—everyone has to eat, even monks. “All right, senior brothers, let’s divide the money right here, and then I’ll take my leave.” The two monks exchanged glances. The slightly older one said, “Junior Brother, to be honest, the two of us no longer have a temple. We’re wandering around now, not knowing where our next meal will come from, and with nowhere to go. Just now, I heard you say you’re from the Shaolin Temple—I suppose that’s the Zen hall where you stay. I’m curious—what’s the situation like at your temple?” “Here they come!” Huo Yuanzhen felt a surge of joy inside, but kept his expression neutral. After a moment’s pause, he said, “Our temple is also newly built. Besides me, there are two others.” “Are those two your Master?” “My master passed away a few days ago.” “Amitabha Buddha！” The two monks bowed their heads in a gesture of mourning, then asked, “In that case, might your temple be willing to take in monks from outside?” “Although there is no precedent for this, I have now assumed the position of abbot of this temple. If the person in question is of good character—one who is neither greedy nor self-serving—we can certainly consider it.” “Abbot!” The two monks were taken aback. They never expected that this monk, who looked like a beggar, was actually the abbot—truly, one cannot judge a book by its cover. “So you are the Abbot. This Humble Monk and my fellow monk have been disrespectful.” The two monks hurriedly bowed to Huo Yuanzhen—this time with genuine respect, not just going through the motions. Buddhism places great emphasis on etiquette, and the abbot held such a prestigious position—one far beyond the reach of two wandering monks like them who didn’t even have a temple of their own. Huo Yuanzhen nodded slightly and returned the bow. Noticing the air of reserve in Huo Yuanzhen’s demeanor, one of the monks hastily handed all the money over to him. “Abbot, my fellow monk and I did not contribute to earning this money. We shouldn’t accept a reward for which we’ve done no work—please take it back.” “How could I possibly refuse? We agreed to split it fifty-fifty.” Huo Yuanzhen spoke politely but accepted the money, showing no intention of letting go. The monk glanced at the copper coins and silver ingots, then forced himself to look away, steadied his composure, and said to Huo Yuanzhen: ““Abbot, although monks should not be greedy for wealth, we still need money to eat. After all, relying solely on alms is unreliable; it’s better to have some savings. However, having wandered for several years, we know money doesn’t last long. Even if you gave us all of this, it likely wouldn’t last half a year. We see that you, Abbot, are exceptionally talented and will surely spread the Dharma far and wide in the future. We’re willing to join your temple so we can settle down.” “Since that is the case… very well. Seeing how much the two of you admire the Shaolin Temple, I’ll reluctantly agree. You may follow me up the mountain today.” With the matter settled, Huo Yuanzhen paused briefly before tucking the money away. He was in desperate need of money right now—not only was there no food on the mountain, but he also had several major expenses ahead of him. While the temple’s buildings could be constructed by drawing construction tokens, there were certain tasks that couldn’t be accomplished that way—such as leveling the ground and paving it with bluestone, which required money. The Shaolin Temple Yuanzhen envisioned was a vast complex; paving the grounds alone would cost at least a thousand taels of silver. Then there were the perimeter walls, which would also cost a considerable amount. Furthermore, the access road up the mountain needed repair; at the very least, it had to be converted into bluestone steps, a cost that would be even higher than paving the courtyard. Once the details were settled, the two monks asked Huo Yuanzhen for his monastic name. “This Humble Monk is Yijie.” “Amitabha Buddha. Greetings, Abbot Yi Jie. This Humble Monk’s monastic name is Huizhen, and this is my junior monk, Huiming.” “Hmm, let’s do this: the two of you will first join the outer sect of Shaolin. For now, we’ll address each other as fellow disciples. We’ll decide whether to admit you to the inner sect based on your future performance.” “Abbot, thank you for your compassion. This Humble Monk and the other monk are determined not to disappoint you.” Huizhen Huiming bowed to Huo Yuanzhen once more. This time, they were truly taking it to heart; monks place great importance on their reputation. Now that they had joined the Shaolin Temple, if they couldn’t even make it into the inner sect, they would truly be letting down Master Shaolin Yijie’s bodhisattva-like compassion. They had no idea that the Shaolin Temple didn’t actually have any distinction between inner and outer circles—this was something Huo Yuanzhen had come up with on the spot. This system should work—pressure breeds motivation. Without a formal reward-and-punishment system, these monks wouldn’t place much value on tangible benefits; they cared far more about prestige. In time, they would naturally strive to rise to the top for the sake of that prestige. Huo Yuanzhen had truly tapped into this psychological trait when he devised this system on the spot, and he planned to roll it out throughout the Shaolin Temple in the future. Accompanied by the two newcomers, Huo Yuanzhen set out to shop. Since the market had already closed, he had no choice but to visit the shops, where he purchased a large quantity of food and supplies. Hui Zhen and Huiming were both in good physical shape and appeared to have practiced martial arts for several years. At their strong insistence, Huo Yuanzhen was only too happy to take it easy, leaving the two large bundles for them to carry. After a busy day, the three set off up the mountain. By the time they reached the Shaolin Temple, night had already fallen. Yikong and Yijing were just about to go to sleep when they noticed Huo Yuanzhen had returned. They hadn’t planned to come out to greet him, but upon hearing that more than one person had returned, they found themselves unable to sleep. You see, since the Shaolin Temple was founded, aside from the four of them—the master and his three disciples—the total number of outsiders who had ever set foot there did not exceed ten. Among them were three beggars, two herb gatherers, a woodcutter, a shepherdess who had visited once, and a thief—though he hadn’t managed to steal a single hair. With an outsider arriving in the middle of the night, they naturally found it curious and had to come out to take a look. Huo Yuanzhen introduced the four to one another and told Yikong Yijing that Huizhen Huiming were now Shaolin disciples as well, and that from now on, they should all address one another as fellow disciples. Yijing was a bit more laid-back; he wasn’t very interested in matters beyond martial arts, and his attention was quickly drawn to the two large bundles of food supplies Huo Yuanzhen had brought back. Yikong was a different story. Among the three of them, Yikong was considered the most “normal” monk—and indeed, the most “normal” person—who liked to flaunt his seniority and act like the senior disciple. However, since the three of them were so familiar with one another, he couldn’t really pull off any airs. But now that a newcomer had arrived—and one who, judging by his words, seemed quite familiar with Buddhist teachings—Yikong immediately sensed a threat. “This isn’t good—my status as a master of Buddhist teachings is in jeopardy.” Feeling the pressure, Yikong adopted an even colder demeanor, responding to Hui Zhen and Huiming’s greetings with grunts and half-hearted laughter to emphasize his special status within the temple. Huiming had a relatively mild temperament and didn’t take it to heart, but Hui Zhen was a bit more calculating; seeing Yikong’s attitude, he, too, grew cold toward him. The two exchanged just a few words at first, but when the topic turned to Buddhism, they unexpectedly began debating with one another. Seeing that the two were unwilling to back down from the moment they met, Huo Yuanzhen decided not to intervene. That was fine—competition creates pressure, so let them argue it out. It would also bring a bit more liveliness to the Shaolin Temple. However, he had to ensure that everything remained within his control. “All right, from now on, the four of you will share a room. Get some rest.” Although Yikong wanted to say it was cramped, he knew he had to respect the abbot’s authority in front of the newcomers, so he remained silent. Only Yijing, that hothead, seemed to want to say something, but after Huo Yuanzhen glared at him, he kept quiet. After arranging the four rather mismatched monks together, Huo Yuanzhen returned to his own room, lay down, and began to ponder. Accommodations in the Shaolin Region were too tight; this small temple would likely be unable to retain people in the long run. The most pressing issue now was no longer martial arts training—it was the urgent need to expand their territory as quickly as possible. At the very least, they needed to build two rooms for everyone to rest in; it wasn’t acceptable for them to keep living in the Buddha hall. All of this required money. He’d wait until tomorrow—tomorrow would be fine. By word of mouth spreading from ten to a hundred tonight and tomorrow morning, quite a few people should come to the mountain tomorrow to hear him tell the story of *Journey to the West*. Once the place gained popularity, money would naturally flow in. Lost in these dreams, Huo Yuanzhen spent another night on the wooden plank bed.