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 26: The Military Governor’s Father
Upon hearing that Iron Ox wished to be ordained, Su Can also knelt down, hoping to be ordained as a full-fledged disciple as well. However, Huo Yuanzhen rejected both men’s requests. The time for ordination had not yet come. Formal Shaolin disciples were different from lay disciples; selection had to be made with great care. Although these two showed promise, they still needed to be observed further. Huo Yuanzhen, Yikong, and two others, along with Huang Feihong and his two companions—a total of eight people—made their way to the back mountain. Between Shaolin Temple and Yinma Lake lay an open area that Huo Yuanzhen had set aside in advance to serve as a Stupa Forest; the grave of the late Monk Xuanming was also located there, though a stone stupa had not yet been erected. In accordance with ritual, the group performed three bows and nine prostrations to pay their respects to their ancestral master. Huo Yuanzhen knelt at the very front and offered incense at the grave of the late Monk Xuanming. Although he was a time traveler who had never even met Xuanming, he had, after all, inherited Yijie’s memories, and Xuanming left a deep impression on his mind. It was thanks to Xuanming that he had cultivated this damned “Virgin’s Art.” However, Huo Yuanzhen did not harbor any hatred toward Xuanming. The old monk had simply been deeply devoted to his disciple, hoping Yi Jie would achieve greatness. Although the “Virgin’s Art” was rather treacherous, its internal energy was exceptionally pure; as long as one’s virginity remained intact, upon reaching full mastery, its power would surpass nearly every other cultivation technique under heaven. After burning the incense, Huo Yuanzhen officially accepted the three lay disciples. Unlike formal disciples, lay disciples do not have a designated master. For the time being, Yijing would serve as their martial arts instructor, while Yikong and Huizhen would take turns teaching them Buddhist studies. “The three of you have entered Shaolin Temple today. Although you are lay disciples, you still represent Shaolin Temple. While within the temple, you must respect your elders and diligently practice both Buddhist teachings and martial arts. Although Shaolin is a Buddhist monastery, our precepts for lay disciples are relatively lenient. As long as you do not drink alcohol or eat meat within the temple, and do not verbally abuse others,we will not impose specific restrictions on you when you are outside the temple. However, you must always remember that Shaolin will become a major martial arts sect in the future and represents the dignity of Buddhism. Under no circumstances should you do anything that would bring dishonor to Shaolin!” “We will strictly follow the Abbot’s teachings!” The three disciples kowtowed, thereby officially becoming lay disciples of the Shaolin Temple. Huo Yuanzhen then said to Yikong, “In the future, we at Shaolin will no longer wear gray or earth-yellow monk’s robes.” “Abbot, if we don’t wear monk’s robes, what are we supposed to wear?” Yikong was taken aback; the Shaolin had always dressed this way. “They will still be monk’s robes, but we must change the color and fabric. Besides, this style isn’t very good. This Humble Monk’s opinion is that this is best: from now on, all Shaolin lay disciples will do away with long robes and instead wear black, form-fitting attire—still in the style of monk’s robes—but without the long hems and wide sleeves. It must facilitate movement and be conducive to martial arts training.” Yikong nodded. “That’s fine. After all, they’re lay disciples; there’s no need for them to dress as elaborately as we do.” “It’s not just them who will change—we will too. Starting today, several of us here at the temple—Huizhen Huiming, who were originally outer-door disciples, are now officially joining the inner door—will all, except for me, switch to white monk’s robes. There will be two sets: one set of athletic attire and one set of formal robes. However, the fabric must be of the highest quality, and the design should be slightly modified. Go down the mountain right away—to town or the county seat—to buy the fabric, then bring it back to Fenglin Village. Ask Lin Rou, the shepherdess, to make them all for us. Both she and her mother know how to sew, and they’re quite skilled.” Yikong paused in surprise: “Abbot, that’s going to cost quite a bit of money.” “Don’t I still have several thousand taels left over from my recent storytelling performances and the profits from the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda?” “But Abbot, you’ve also taken out loans…” Huo Yuanzhen waved his hand dismissively: “Never mind that. There’s no rush to pay back the loans. Let’s take care of this first.” Standing nearby, Yijing, Huizhen, Huang Feihong, and the others all beamed with delight. Although it didn’t really matter what they wore, who wouldn’t want to look a little nicer? The Abbot’s suggestion to get new clothes was truly excellent. It was just a shame that Yikong kept objecting at every turn—he was truly infuriating. The group shot Yikong some disapproving glances. Under everyone’s gaze, Yikong realized he had unwittingly placed himself at odds with the group. He couldn’t help but silently berate himself for his foolishness. How to earn money and how to spend it were the Abbot’s concerns—why was he worrying about it? After all, once the new clothes were ready, he’d get his share too. And so, the plan was set: the lay disciples would first study Buddhism with Hui Zhen; after completing their Buddhist studies, they would learn the Tiger-Subduing Fist with Yijing; and Yikong would go shopping. Huo Yuanzhen found himself with nothing to do again. There wasn’t much going on at Shaolin these days—a few people came each day to apply to become lay disciples, and others visited the Shaolin Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda to request Buddha statues. The others could handle these matters just fine; all he had to do was listen to their daily reports and collect the money. In the days that followed, Huo Yuanzhen stayed indoors to practice the “Boy’s Art.” Cultivating inner energy is a process of gradual accumulation over time, one that truly tests one’s patience. For the sake of the great power he would eventually need to return to lay life, Huo Yuanzhen had ample motivation and patience. After all, the “Child’s Art” was an indispensable requirement—he could only return to lay life after mastering it—so Huo Yuanzhen never slacked off. Days passed in this way, and before he knew it, it was already the end of June. Huo Yuanzhen calculated the time; tomorrow, he would be able to enter the lottery again. During this time, his "Child’s Art" had made significant progress; there were already signs of true qi gradually beginning to flow within his body. Once the true qi could circulate throughout his entire body, he would be considered to have entered the mid-stage of the Postnatal Realm. He had originally planned to complete one full cycle of qigong practice tonight and then start the lottery in the middle of the night, but at dusk, Huiming suddenly reported from outside that a group of people had arrived at the temple gate, asking to see the abbot. Huo Yuanzhen walked out in puzzlement and arrived at the temple gate. Upon reaching the entrance, he saw that there were at least several dozen people outside, standing in neat formation on the narrow mountain path. Their uniforms and armor were vividly colored—they were clearly a military unit. At the front stood a burly general—none other than Shangguan Xiong, who had departed just a few days ago and had now returned. Beside Shangguan Xiong stood a white-haired elder. He appeared to be around sixty years old, yet seemed remarkably vigorous, his eyes bright and spirited; upon seeing Huo Yuanzhen, a peculiar gleam even flashed in his eyes. Upon seeing Huo Yuanzhen appear at the temple gate, Shangguan Xiong was the first to bow to him: “Abbot, it has been nearly a month since we last met. How have you been?” “Amitabha Buddha. Shangguan Shi, you look as splendid as ever; This Humble Monk is deeply gratified.” Huo Yuanzhen returned the bow with a single palm and exchanged a few pleasantries with Shangguan Xiong. Shangguan Xiong chuckled and turned to the elderly man, saying, “Old Master Guan, this is the Abbot of Shaolin Temple I told you about—Master Yijie. He is a truly enlightened monk, the only person in this world capable of communicating with the Buddha.” Old Mr. Guan sized up Huo Yuanzhen from head to toe, then chuckled, “So young—how much spiritual attainment could he possibly have? It seems I’m in for another wasted trip this time.” Huo Yuanzhen wasn’t at all surprised by Old Master Guan’s attitude; given his appearance, no one would take him for a highly accomplished monk. However, Shangguan Xiong had seen Huo Yuanzhen in action before, so he hurriedly explained to the old man, “Mr. Guan, although Abbot Yi Jie is a bit young, he truly possesses genuine abilities. Just wait a moment—let him strike the Wooden Fish for you, and you’ll understand.” “All right, since I’m here anyway, I might as well listen.” The elderly man surnamed Guan seemed a bit listless as he gave a casual reply. Shangguan Xiong felt a bit awkward, but he didn’t dare say anything to Old Master Guan. Instead, he turned to Huo Yuanzhen and said, “Abbot, Old Master Guan is the father of the Military Governor. After I explained the matters concerning Shaolin to him, we rushed here straight from the Military Governor’s residence. It’s just that he seems… well, look at this.” “Amitabha Buddha. Shangguan Shi, as the saying goes, medicine cannot cure an incurable illness, and the Buddha saves only those with karmic affinity. It seems to me that this elderly Layman Guan does not trust our Shaolin Temple. Since that is the case, he must have no karmic connection with us. Please return home.” Huo Yuanzhen’s expression remained impassive, betraying no sign of unease, yet his words were a direct refusal. “You look down on us, don’t you? You think you’re so great, don’t you? Fine, then—go back where you came from. We at Shaolin Temple won’t be serving you.” No sooner had Huo Yuanzhen finished speaking than Old Master Guan’s expression instantly turned cold as he fixed his gaze on Huo Yuanzhen: “Young monk, do you know what price you will pay for those words?” Huo Yuanzhen met the old Mr. Guan’s gaze directly, seemingly oblivious to the icy murderous intent in his eyes, and bowed his head in respect: “Old Sir, This Humble Monk does not know.” “Since you don’t know, let me tell you: whether it’s this squad of soldiers behind me or I, Guan, personally—wiping out your Shaolin Temple would be as easy as the flick of a wrist. Think carefully about this.” Hearing the old man Guan’s threats, This Humble Monk Yuanzhen gave a scornful chuckle and simply sat down in front of the temple gate: “I am a monk. I have renounced the four great elements. Having listened to the Buddha’s teachings since childhood, I know full well that all things are illusory. What can your swords and spears do to me?” Seeing Huo Yuanzhen’s unflinching composure, Old Man Guan’s eyes actually betrayed a look of admiration, though he still growled menacingly, “Little monk, you truly aren’t afraid of death!” “What joy is there in life, and what fear in death? The Buddha said, ‘If I am not hell, who will enter hell?’ If This Humble Monk’s stinking flesh can secure Old Master Guan’s enlightenment and the safety of my Shaolin Temple, I fear nothing.” Having said this, Huo Yuanzhen simply closed his eyes, appearing utterly detached and free of desire. He closed his eyes mainly because the other man’s gaze was somewhat piercing, and also so he could concentrate on deciding whether he should scream or run away if the other man suddenly attacked. But ironically, this very gesture completely changed Old Man Guan’s impression of him. “This young abbot has courage and a sense of responsibility—he’s no ordinary man.” That was Old Master Guan’s inner assessment. Although Old Man Guan held a high status and was no slouch in martial arts, he was, after all, a devout Buddhist; he had only spoken to test Huo Yuanzhen because of his youth. Now, seeing Huo Yuanzhen’s response, Old Man Guan burst into laughter and stepped forward to bow to him: “Please don’t take offense, Abbot. I was merely joking with you. How could I dare offend an abbot who can communicate with the Buddha? That would be a grave mistake.” At that moment, Huo Yuanzhen opened his eyes slightly and looked at Old Man Guan: “Layman Guan, do you truly not dare?” “I truly would not dare.” This time, Old Man Guan spoke with the utmost reverence. “Very well, Yijing, close the door and go to sleep.” With that, Huo Yuanzhen stood up, turned, and walked into the temple. Yijing then obeyed his order and closed the door, leaving Shangguan Xiong, Old Man Guan, and the others standing outside in the cold. Old Man Guan and Shangguan Xiong exchanged glances. Had they really just left the Military Governor—his own father—out here like this?
