The Shaolin Abbot Born in the 1980s

Chapter 7: The Temple Is Thriving

At dawn, a golden glow spread across the horizon, and the hazy mist gradually dissipated. Orchids lazily stretched their graceful stems, and droplets of water slid from their petals, seeping silently into the soil. A beautiful day began at Shaolin Temple. Yikong, Yijing, and the four monks—Huizhen Huiming—had all risen early, each busy with their own tasks, whether reading scriptures or practicing martial arts. Only the young abbot, not yet twenty, was still tucked under the covers, on a date with a celestial maiden. “Senior Brother Abbot, get up quickly.” Huo Yuanzhen opened his eyes dazedly to find Yijing standing by his bed. “What do you want? What did you do to me?” Huo Yuanzhen wasn’t fully awake yet; he was still immersed in a beautiful dream, the pleasure still lingering. Seeing Yijing now, he thought something had happened. “What do you mean, ‘what do I want’? A lot of people have come up from the mountain, saying they want to see the abbot.” “Oh! I see.” Huo Yuanzhen got out of bed, washed his face, put on his only earth-yellow monk’s robe, slipped on his monk’s socks, and slipped into his cloth shoes before staggering out of the temple. Outside, a crowd of about sixty or seventy people had already gathered, and more were still streaming up from the foot of the mountain. As soon as they saw Huo Yuanzhen, they all greeted him. Most simply said hello, while those more knowledgeable bowed deeply to Huo Yuanzhen as a sign of respect for the abbot. Unfortunately, they didn’t realize that Huo Yuanzhen found such greetings particularly awkward. In the past, people had simply exchanged greetings when they met, but now these people were bowing with palms pressed together before him, and he had no choice but to play along. “My fellow benefactors, though we’ve been apart for just one night, you look as splendid as ever—how delightful!” Huo Yuanzhen spoke in a rambling manner, instructing Hui Zhen and the other monk to find tables and chairs, then whispered a few words in their ears. The two monks were quite resourceful this time; realizing the abbot seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, they deliberately placed the table on a raised platform and set a stool atop it. Huo Yuanzhen nodded in satisfaction, then struggled to climb up. “Ladies and gentlemen, This Humble Monk is the Abbot of Shaolin. With so many temple affairs to attend to, although I can tell you the story of *Journey to the West* in my spare time, it won’t take too long. I hope you’ll all understand.” Those people had climbed the mountain early in the morning just to hear the *Journey to the West*, but when this young abbot said he didn’t have much time to spare, they were a bit dissatisfied. Honestly, if you’re going to make an excuse, you could at least come up with a better one. This Shaolin Temple may be called a “temple,” but it’s just a tiny little building with a total of five monks—how much work could there possibly be? Someone spoke up: “Abbot, please tell us a little more.” “Yeah, what could possibly keep him so busy?” Huo Yuanzhen cleared his throat. “Amitabha Buddha. Here’s the thing: today I had planned to offer incense and pay respects to the Buddha. As you know, when offering incense to the Buddha, the more you light, the better—and you have to keep replacing them constantly. Naturally, that leaves me little time to tell stories.” “Aren’t there four other monks here? Just have them do it.” These people weren’t so easy to fool. “Those four would be fine, but they’re leaving today to perform a ritual; they can’t stay on the mountain.” After saying this, Huo Yuanzhen gave Hui Zhen and the others a subtle nod. They’d already agreed on this earlier, so the group immediately bowed to Huo Yuanzhen: “Abbot, we’ll head down the mountain right away and won’t be back until tonight.” With that, the four monks walked away together without looking back. “As you can see, This Humble Monk is the only monk left in the temple now, and I need to keep replacing the incense. I’m afraid I won’t be able to lecture you for very long.” Still reluctant to give up, they discussed it for a while. Then one of them asked, “Abbot, how about this: you prepare the incense, and since there are so many of us here, we can take turns helping you replace it. You just focus on your lecture.” “Amitabha Buddha, that won’t work. This incense is called ‘Prosperous Incense.’ Not only does it burn extremely quickly, but it cannot be handled by outsiders—otherwise, it will lose its efficacy.” “Then what should we do? Abbot, please think of a way—we can’t have come all this way for nothing.” Huo Yuanzhen glanced around. Seeing that there were already nearly three hundred people present—and no newcomers arriving—he figured this was likely the full turnout for the day. So he stopped holding back and revealed his true identity. “Very well. This Humble Monk has a middle-of-the-road solution: each of you may make a small offering, and then you can take turns offering incense. This way, not only will the Buddha not hold it against you, but He will also bless you all with safety.” “That’s easy enough. Abbot, how much do you charge per stick of incense?” “It’s not expensive at all. I shouldn’t be charging anything, but to ensure you aren’t reprimanded by the Buddha, let’s say three copper coins per stick of incense.” The crowd wasn’t particularly surprised; incense down in the valley cost two copper coins, and here it was only three—indeed, not much. It seemed the abbot was truly compassionate. “I’ll buy two sticks of incense first. Abbot, please begin your sermon.” Some people began reaching for their money. Huo Yuanzhen smiled slightly and pointed to a cloth bag in the corner. “The incense is right there. Just drop your copper coins in, and then you can take a stick to light.” That person was the first to walk over, dropped six copper coins into the bag, and then took out two sticks of incense. Standing before the statue of the Buddha, the person bowed several times before lighting one stick of incense. Seeing that the incense had begun to burn, Huo Yuanzhen began his lecture. Yesterday, we discussed Sun Wukong going to Patriarch Bodhi to learn his skills, but today we haven’t even gotten to the part about learning the Seventy-Two Transformations yet, and the incense over there is almost burned out. “Layman, please do not let the incense go out; otherwise, This Humble Monk will have no choice but to interrupt today’s lecture.” The man, who had been listening intently, turned around and saw that the incense was indeed about to go out. “This… this incense is burning pretty fast!” No wonder he was surprised—it hadn’t even been five minutes, yet the incense stick was already nearly burned down. He hurried over and lit another stick of incense. Picking it up and examining it, he said, “Why does this incense have an oily smell?” “Amitabha Buddha. Incense containing oil burns more vigorously—that’s why it’s called ‘vigorous incense.’ The more vigorously it burns, the more blessings the devotee will receive from the Buddha.” At first, the man had suspected that Huo Yuanzhen had tampered with the incense, but now that he heard it was for his own greater protection, he no longer thought anything of it and walked back with a smile on his face. Seeing this, others thought two things: first, that this stick of incense probably wouldn’t last long, and second, that since they were already there, it was a good opportunity to light a stick of incense and pray for peace and safety. So more people walked over, dropped some copper coins, picked up incense and candles, and waited for the current stick to burn out so they could take their turn. Seeing more and more people exchanging coins for incense and candles, Huo Yuanzhen finally felt at ease. It was a good start after all. He had originally planned that if things didn’t go as expected, he would have Hui Zhen and the others change into different clothes and put on hats to act as plants, but now there was no need to take that risk. Some people felt it wasn’t worth paying for incense just to hear a story, but the abbot’s tale was simply too captivating—each twist led seamlessly to the next, and the more they listened, the more they wanted to hear. If they left halfway through, they’d probably have trouble sleeping that night. Besides, since everyone else was paying, it would seem too stingy not to contribute. Most of the people present paid for incense and candles, taking turns to tend them. As soon as an incense stick or candle showed signs of going out, the next person in line would immediately take over, ensuring the flames never went out—all so that Huo Yuanzhen could focus on telling his story. “Heh heh, let them burn. These oil-dipped incense sticks last three minutes each. I bought them wholesale from the incense shop for one copper coin per stick. I make two copper coins in three minutes—that’s forty copper coins an hour. If I tell stories for five hours today, I’ll make two hundred copper coins, which is two liang of silver. Making money really isn’t that hard.” While the incense burned steadily over there, Huo Yuanzhen’s storytelling continued uninterrupted. It wasn’t until noon that he reached the part where Sun Wukong borrows the treasure from the Dragon Palace. It would likely take more than a month to finish the entire *Journey to the West*. “Now, Sun Wukong took this staff—it could grow large or small, long or short, hard or soft… ahem… It’s getting late today, so let’s stop here. I still have to do my midday prayers, and I have to practice my boxing this afternoon. If any of you want to hear more, please come early tomorrow.” That staff had really whetted everyone’s appetite. Though reluctant, since Huo Yuanzhen had called it a day, they had no choice but to disperse, each of them secretly wishing that staff could grow on their own bodies. Watching the crowd disperse, Huo Yuanzhen climbed down from the table, ready to count his money. Just as he stepped down, he noticed one person who hadn’t left yet. “My friend, This Humble Monk’s lecture for today has come to an end.” “Abbot, there’s no one else here now. We’re all sensible people. I know you want to make money. How about this: the next time you tell a story, I’ll have someone write it down. Once you’ve finished telling the story and I’ve finished writing the book, I’ll consider the book purchased from you. Then I can have someone take this story to other towns to tell it.” Huo Yuanzhen took a close look at the man. He was dressed in fine clothes, seemed to be of some standing, sported a handlebar mustache, and had a shrewd look on his face. “May I ask your name, sir?” “My surname is Qian; I am the owner of the Money House in Lvye Town.” “Qian, the Benefactor, since you hold my story in such high regard, please come to This Humble Monk’s room so we can discuss it further.” Huo Yuanzhen was overjoyed—it was as if someone had handed him a pillow just as he was about to doze off. After all, even if he finished telling this *Journey to the West* himself, he wouldn’t be able to continue it anyway. This was a better option—it was essentially selling the story’s copyright. Mr. Qian had a keen eye; he recognized the story’s immense value. However, the price would have to be carefully negotiated. Hmm, charging by the episode should be a good approach.