A young man born in the 1980s is unexpectedly transported to ancient times and awakens as a monk. Before he can adjust, he discovers that he has also become the abbot of a struggling monastery and has been assigned an “Abbot System” with increasingly ambitious goals. The system expects him to master difficult martial arts, rebuild Shaolin's reputation, and eventually lead the wider martial world. He would much rather live an ordinary life, but abandoning the role is not so simple. Reluctantly, he begins strengthening the monastery and discovers that leadership may demand more of him than martial skill alone.
Chapter 13: Spring Blossoms in Full Bloom on the Apricot Branches
The bright moon hung high in the sky, a gentle breeze blew, and the scent of flowers filled the courtyard. A few appetizers to accompany a pot of aged “Daughter’s Red” wine—sipping a few cups in such an atmosphere was truly one of life’s greatest pleasures. In addition to the wine, there was also a pot of clear tea, prepared especially for Monk Li Xuan and Huo Yuanzhen. Huo Yuanzhen pinched his nose as he nibbled on some peanuts and similar snacks, drank two cups of clear tea, and forced himself not to look at the meat dishes. Just then, Manager Zhao stood up. Manager Zhao’s full name was Zhao Wuji. Though he was a “local scholar” who had never passed the imperial examinations, he possessed genuine talent, and his failure to attain an official title remained the greatest regret of his life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are all men of learning. Today, here at my establishment, let us engage in a little friendly competition: each of you compose a poem to liven up the festivities. What do you all think?” Monk Li Xuan cheered loudly, but then added, “Composing poetry to liven things up is certainly a good idea, but everything needs a prize; otherwise, we might as well not bother writing the poems at all.” From across the room, Chen Ding—the dashing knight known as the “Iron Fan Immortal”—asked, “May I ask what kind of incentive Master Li Xuan has in mind?” “A stake, of course, is something of value. This Humble Monk proposes that if my poem gains your approval, then please, Manager Zhao, resolve the matter of the thirty thousand taels of silver loan I’ve requested as soon as possible. Would that be acceptable?” Zhao Wuji smiled and nodded. “As long as Master Li Xuan’s poetry passes muster and there is suitable collateral, the loan will not be a problem.” Huo Yuanzhen watched coldly from the sidelines, knowing that these men had likely already discussed the loan in advance and were now deliberately putting on a show for his benefit. Chen Ding laughed heartily: “Then that will be my wager as well—25,000 taels. Manager Zhao, please consider it.” Zhao Wuji nodded, then turned to Huo Yuanzhen: “I wonder what Abbot Yi Jie’s purpose is here?” Huo Yuanzhen chanted a Buddhist mantra: “This Humble Monk thinks the same. If my poetry is still worth listening to, please, Manager Zhao, secure fifty thousand taels of silver for me.” “That depends on whether the Abbot has what it takes.” Zhao Wuji looked at Huo Yuanzhen with a hint of disdain in his eyes; after all, Huo Yuanzhen’s age was simply not convincing. “But what if you lose, gentlemen?” Zhao Wuji posed another question. Chen Ding thought for a moment: “If my poetry falls short, I’ll punish myself by drinking one jin of wine.” Zhao Wuji chuckled, “That won’t do. It would be acceptable if Master Li Xuan or Abbot Yi Jie were to drink as a penalty—after all, as monks, they do not drink alcohol, so drinking as a penalty is a severe punishment. But for you to do so would be too lenient.” Hearing Zhao Wuji say this, Qian Delu’s expression changed. After all, Huo Yuanzhen was a guest he had brought with him; if Huo were penalized with wine here and broke the precepts of the Buddhist Order, it would put Qian in a difficult position. Just as he was about to speak, Li Xuan suddenly interjected, “Let’s go with Manager Zhao’s suggestion. If This Humble Monk loses, I’ll drink and eat meat—how does that sound?” By then, Huo Yuanzhen had realized that these men were deliberately trying to humiliate him. If he agreed to this proposal, he feared he would soon be forced to drink alcohol and eat meat. After all, as a monk, he was a vegetarian and could not touch alcohol or meat. In their eyes, if he lost, he would likely have to leave on the spot—he’d rather go without a loan than drink or eat meat. But Huo Yuanzhen chuckled inwardly. “You bunch of rotten sweet potatoes and stinky bird eggs think you can set a trap for This Humble Monk? Not only can This Humble Monk not afford to lose, but even if I did lose, I wouldn’t be the least bit afraid of the punishment of drinking and eating meat. I’ve been in this world for so long that my mouth is practically tasting like nothing—this is the perfect opportunity to satisfy my cravings with good reason.” Even if word got out, outsiders would only say that he willingly endured humiliation for the sake of the temple’s development—which would actually be a good reputation. But Huo Yuanzhen could only dwell on these thoughts; on this occasion, he simply couldn’t afford to lose. Huo Yuanzhen nodded and said, “Since Master Li Xuan displays such courage, This Humble Monk cannot be outdone. Very well—wine and meat pass through the gut, but the Buddha resides in the heart. Should I lose, I am sure the Buddha will understand my sincere intentions.” The expressions of the others changed; they hadn’t expected Huo Yuanzhen to possess such boldness. This was quite unlike an ordinary monk—any ordinary monk would likely have flown into a rage the moment he heard such a condition. Once the stakes were settled, Qian Delu decided not to participate in the poetry contest; instead, he would serve as a judge, as his status should allow him to remain impartial. As the one who had made the proposal, Zhao Wuji was the first to stand up. Clutching a wine flask, Zhao Wuji strode with measured steps to a spot beneath an apricot tree. Taking a gentle sip of wine, Zhao Wuji spoke slowly: “Beyond the mist of green willows, the morning chill is light; on the branches of red apricot trees, spring has arrived. In this fleeting life, I lament the scarcity of joy—would I not trade a thousand pieces of gold for a single smile?” “Excellent! Truly excellent!” Chen Ding cheered loudly from the side. Over there, Monk Li Xuan nodded repeatedly: “Manager Zhao’s poetry is truly beyond reproach. ‘Spring has arrived on the branches of the red apricot tree’—the atmosphere of spring is so rich and refreshing, it’s truly invigorating!” Qian Delu also couldn’t stop praising it; Zhao Wuji’s poetry was indeed of a very high caliber. Only Huo Yuanzhen smiled without speaking, thinking to himself, “What a coincidence—this poem seems almost identical to one I knew from my past life. If there’s any difference, it’s that this one falls slightly short of the one I knew before, but it’s just what I need to make use of.” Hearing everyone’s praise, Zhao Wuji felt quite smug. Just as he was basking in his triumph, he noticed Huo Yuanzhen smiling silently. This instantly put a sour taste in his mouth, and he said coldly, “Since the Abbot remains silent, I presume my poetry is unworthy of your ears.” Huo Yuanzhen waved his hand. “You are mistaken. Zhao Shizhu’s poem is fresh and distinctive—truly not commonplace. It has only a slight flaw, but that is of no great consequence. The flaw does not obscure the gem; it is still a fine verse.” “Oh!” Zhao Wuji’s interest was immediately piqued. He returned to his seat and said to Huo Yuanzhen, “Then I humbly ask the Abbot to offer some guidance. May I ask where exactly the flaws lie in my poem?” Zhao Wuji had been mulling over this poem for quite some time, waiting just for today to show it off. He considered it flawless, so when Huo Yuanzhen said there were still flaws, he naturally felt resentful. Although he asked for guidance with his words, he had already made up his mind: as long as Huo Yuanzhen couldn’t pinpoint the flaws or made a mistake in his explanation, he would certainly mock him. Over there, Chen Dinghe and Li Xuan were also watching Huo Yuanzhen, ready to see him make a fool of himself. Huo Yuanzhen wasn’t in a hurry. He slowly sipped a mouthful of light tea, carrying himself with great poise and moving deliberately—so much so that even those seasoned veterans began to lose their patience. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, he said, “Zhao Shizhu, regarding the line ‘Spring arrives on the branches of the red apricot tree,’ might I suggest a slight change?” “How could I change it? It’s spring now, and the red apricot blossoms are in full bloom—is there really anything wrong with that line?” Before Zhao Wuji could speak, Li Xuan had already jumped in. Fellow monks are often rivals; with both temples located on Shaoshi Mountain and having come here together to borrow money, he naturally took a dim view of Huo Yuanzhen. “It’s simple. This Humble Monk believes it would be better to change it to ‘Spring is in full swing on the red apricot branches.’ ” “Spring’s vitality bursts forth from the red apricot branches!” The group instantly fell silent, savoring the line carefully. Soon, a look of embarrassment flashed across Zhao Wuji’s face—embarrassment tinged with a hint of excitement. Qian Delu was the first to speak up: “Excellent, absolutely excellent! Abbot, by changing just a single character, you’ve elevated the entire poem’s depth to a whole new level! ‘Spring’s vitality bursts forth’—brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! That single character ‘bursts’ captures the essence perfectly. This poem is sure to become a timeless masterpiece!” Chen Ding, too, finally couldn’t help but exclaim, “Indeed, this single-character change truly serves as the finishing touch. Abbot Yi Jie, I am deeply impressed.” After the two had spoken, Zhao Wuji also chimed in: “Thank you, Abbot, for your guidance. I’ve learned a great deal.” After speaking, Zhao Wuji raised a cup of wine, nodded to Huo Yuanzhen, and downed it in one gulp to express his gratitude. Only Li Xuan seemed a bit resentful, but since Huo Yuanzhen’s revision was indeed brilliant, he couldn’t say much in response. He could only remark sourly, “Changing a single character isn’t much of an achievement; it’s the ability to compose a complete poem that truly demonstrates literary talent.” After speaking, Li Xuan turned to Chen Ding: “Grand Master Chen, it’s your turn.” To everyone’s surprise, Chen Ding waved his hand. “Never mind. I actually had a line of my own, but Manager Zhao’s verse was already superb, and with Abbot Yi Jie’s revision, it has become a masterpiece. I concede defeat.” Li Xuan hadn’t expected Chen Dingchen to concede so readily; he felt a pang of displeasure, but there was nothing he could do. Reluctantly, he stood up and said to Abbot Yi Jie, “Grand Master Chen has held back. That leaves just the two of us. Shall you go first, or shall I?” “Master Li Xuan, please go first.” “Very well. As members of the monastic order, although we may compose secular verses, they are ultimately incompatible with our status. This Humble Monk proposes that our poems should relate to Buddhism. What do you think, Abbot?” “That is only fitting.” Seeing that Huo Yuanzhen agreed, Li Xuan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Earlier, when he’d seen Huo Yuanzhen rework Zhao Wuji’s verses—a feat that suggested considerable skill—he’d truly been unsure of the outcome. With this added restriction, Huo Yuanzhen would likely be unable to come up with anything particularly brilliant on short notice, greatly increasing Li Xuan’s chances of victory.
