The Shaolin Abbot Born in the 1980s

Chapter 37: The Missed Qixi Festival

Huo Yuanzhen did not return to check on Yue Ying and the Crown Princess; this matter had nothing to do with him. He had saved their lives merely to intimidate the bandits and ensure his own survival. Besides, he had no desire to witness the Crown Princess’s haughty demeanor even in the face of imminent death; it was best not to provoke her. The bandits who ambushed the princess had some background; that Yin-Yang Fish pectoral amulet was a Daoist artifact. By that logic, the masked bandit leader was very likely a Daoist priest. In the Shaoshi Mountain, the only authentic Daoist sect is the Zhongyue Sect. If this bandit leader is a member of the Zhongyue Sect, his status is likely quite high—after all, a master at the late Hou Tian stage is undoubtedly a formidable figure. Even the Zhongyue Sect’s Grand Master, Mysterious Immortal Ao Miao Zhenren, has not yet reached the Perfect Hou Tian stage. For now, his primary focus was preparing to confront the Dharma King Temple; he had no intention of provoking a conflict with the Zhongyue Sect just yet. He glanced at the time; it was nearly midnight. According to the traditional Chinese time-keeping system, it was now the “Zi” hour of midnight, while Huo Yuanzhen’s system time read just past 11:00 p. m. He rode his horse back to the Shaolin Temple, let the White Horse go on its own, and returned to his room. After all that commotion—and having just unleashed the Lion’s Roar once more—Huo Yuanzhen was physically and mentally exhausted. He collapsed onto the bed and quickly drifted off to sleep. As he slept, Huo Yuanzhen thought he heard a system notification, but in his drowsy state, he did not wake up. The Qixi Festival—the day when the Cowherd and the Weaving Maid meet across the Milky Way—is a time when many lovers in the mortal world choose to make a date, as if doing so would add a touch of romance to their love. Those in the martial arts world were particularly fond of this romantic atmosphere. These days, the “great hero” archetype is all the rage. A handsome man—especially one with impressive martial arts skills—who is usually quiet but speaks in memorable, pithy lines, and carries a hint of melancholy—is the absolute favorite of the heroines of the martial arts world. In a past life, he would have been the kind of handsome guy who knew how to be cool. At the foot of the rear slopes of Shaoshi Mountain, the terrain is extremely rugged; climbing up from here is by no means an easy task. Yet on the early morning of the Qixi Festival, while the mountain mist had not yet lifted, a young man clad in blue and carrying a sword appeared at the foot of the mountain. He looked up at the main peak of Yuzhai Mountain, which soared into the clouds, and a faint smile played on his lips. “Yuzhai Mountain. A year ago, Miss Miao and I agreed to meet at the highest peak of Shaoshi Mountain—this must be the place. I’ve heard there’s a Shaolin Temple up there, so I won’t pass by it. I’ll climb up the back side instead. Miss Miao will be coming up from the front, so she’ll definitely have to go through the Shaolin Temple. When she suddenly sees that I’ve already arrived—and haven’t even passed the Shaolin Temple yet—she’ll surely be deeply impressed by my lightness skills. Maybe today, I’ll have a chance with Miss Miao… hehe…” The sword-wielding youth flashed a sly grin, but immediately composed himself, adopting a carefree demeanor. He flicked his robe and strode confidently up the mountain. But while his plan seemed simple, putting it into action wouldn’t be nearly so easy. The backside of Shaoshi Mountain was simply unsuitable for climbing; otherwise, Huo Yuanzhen wouldn’t have even built a wall here in the first place. Even the most skilled masters of lightness kung fu would never take this route unless absolutely necessary. Moreover, although this young man in green robes with a sword on his back looked the part, his lightness skills were by no means exceptional. At first, he strode confidently, and when he encountered steep sections, he leaped from one ledge to another with a rather dashing air. But by the time he reached the middle of the mountain, where the terrain grew even more treacherous, he had no choice but to crawl. It seemed he had little experience climbing mountains; instead of conserving his energy by choosing the easiest route, he prioritized speed and charged blindly upward. By the time he reached two-thirds of the way up, he was so exhausted that he stuck out his tongue and gasped for breath, with not a trace of composure left. The only thing driving him forward at that moment was the memory of the Miao girl’s voice, appearance, and smile. They had agreed to meet at sunrise on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month at the highest peak of Shaoshi Mountain. With sunrise fast approaching, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and keep climbing, though inwardly he was kicking himself for bringing this on himself—how much better it would have been to simply stick to the mountain trail. Shaolin Temple opened its gates early that morning. Huiming, armed with a broom, was sweeping the ground in front of the mountain gate when he spotted a young woman approaching from afar along the forest path. The woman wore a pale yellow outer robe; she had a graceful figure and a fresh, lively appearance. With a pair of swords strapped to her back, it was clear at a glance that she was a martial artist. When she reached Huiming, the woman bowed with a single palm, her posture somewhat casual: “Master, I’d like to pay my respects at your temple.” Huiming returned the gesture and said, “You must have come to witness the miracle of the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda, female benefactor. Please come in. However, you’ll need to wait a while inside the temple. Only the abbot can open the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda, and he is still asleep after last night’s religious ceremony.” “That’s fine; I’d like to take a look around anyway,” the young woman in yellow nodded, then stepped into the Shaolin Temple. Although the girl in yellow wasn’t particularly polite, Huiming was a monk who had practiced Buddhism for many years; naturally, he didn’t hold it against her. He smiled and continued sweeping the floor. There really wasn’t much to see at Shaolin Temple at the moment. Aside from the surrounding walls and some newly planted trees in the courtyard, the only other sight was the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda in the fourth section in the distance. Furthermore, the dining halls, dormitories, and that small temple from the temple’s earliest days were not open to visitors or pilgrims. The young woman walked slowly through the Shaolin Region and gradually made her way to the fourth section. Upon seeing the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda, she didn’t stop to look at it up close. Instead, she glanced around; when she realized no one was paying attention to her, she suddenly picked up speed and ran toward the back of the Shaolin Temple. Her feet moved swiftly—it seemed she possessed some skill in light-body techniques. Once she reached the back, the woman leaped into the air and barely cleared the three-meter-high perimeter wall. Once she cleared that wall, she was considered to have left the Shaolin Temple; beyond it lay the Stupa Forest that Yuanzhen had set aside. The woman continued running and soon reached the shore of Yinma Lake. The water shimmered in the sunlight, creating a beautiful scene, and from here, she could already see the highest peak of the mountain behind the temple. The woman slowed her pace, began to carry herself like a well-bred young lady, and walked slowly toward the rear mountain. After walking a short distance, a look of joy suddenly lit up her face—sure enough, there was a figure on the summit of the rear mountain. She assumed that anyone at the summit this early in the morning must be Brother Liu, whom she had been longing for day and night. The young woman in yellow felt her heart race, and she quickened her pace, hurrying toward the mountaintop. Huo Yuanzhen woke up early in the morning feeling refreshed and alert, all traces of last night’s fatigue swept away. After splashing some water on his face, Huo Yuanzhen seemed to recall hearing a sound from the system last night, but he’d been so exhausted that he hadn’t woken up at all. With that in mind, Huo Yuanzhen hurried to check. The system’s notification sounds could be saved, and when Huo Yuanzhen checked again, the system beeped repeatedly. “Qixi Festival: One extra draw opportunity. Do you want to draw now?” “Ten minutes remaining until the draw ends. Do you want to draw now?” “Drawing time has expired. Since the host has not drawn, the system will begin an automatic draw.” “Clock Tower Construction Token obtained. Qixi Draw has ended.” The succession of system notifications made Huo Yuanzhen realize he had made a huge mistake. It turned out that the Qixi Festival offered an extra draw—but unfortunately, he hadn’t known about it and had let the opportunity slip away so easily. Thankfully, there was the system’s auto-draw feature; otherwise, he would have lost out big time. Although the Bell Tower Construction Token isn’t exactly a top-tier item, it’s still indispensable for the Shaolin Temple. The Shaolin Temple rings the bell during morning and evening services, as well as during religious ceremonies; the bell is an essential daily tool. As far as he could recall, the bell tower was an iconic feature of the Shaolin Temple. When the temple’s bells rang, the villagers living at the foot of the mountain could tell the time by the sound. The bell must be of high quality so that its melodious chime will resonate, adding a touch of vitality to the Shaolin Temple. Holding the Bell Tower Construction Token, Huo Yuanzhen didn’t use it right away; instead, he decided to take a stroll up the back mountain. Of course, he wasn’t going to steal medicine again—Huo Yuanzhen didn’t have the ability for that now—he was just taking a casual stroll. But when he reached the summit of the back mountain and stood at the highest point, he suddenly heard what sounded like “pant, pant” coming from below—as if someone were breathing heavily. Puzzled, Huo Yuanzhen looked down from the summit and was startled by what he saw: several dozen zhang below him stood a ragged-clothed youth. The boy held a sword that glinted coldly in the light, using it like a climbing axe or chisel—sticking it into crevices in the rock—as he scrambled upward with all his might. It looked as though he might fall at any moment. Huo Yuanzhen marveled to himself, thinking, “There really are all kinds of people in this world. What on earth is this young man’s purpose in climbing this mountain? Is he planning to launch a surprise attack on the Shaolin Temple? But that doesn’t seem likely at all. Looking at him like that, forget about a surprise attack—if no one comes to his rescue, he probably won’t even make it up the final stretch.” If he’s not here to launch a surprise attack, could he be a mountaineer? But his gear is far too rudimentary. Although his sword is quite good—it can be wedged into the rock—it’s certainly not meant for climbing. After watching for a while, Huo Yuanzhen felt he couldn’t stand by and watch him die, so he called out, “Amitabha Buddha, my friend, what are you doing?” The man startled, nearly falling, but steadied himself and looked up. To his surprise, he saw a monk standing above him. Thinking this must be a monk from the Shaolin Temple, he hurriedly exclaimed, “Monk, come quickly! Find a rope to pull this young master up—I’ll reward you handsomely!” Huo Yuanzhen smiled. “This Humble Monk will certainly pull you up, but might I first ask, kind sir, what brings you here? Otherwise, if I pull you up only for you to try to harm me, what am I to do?” The young man’s eyes darted about. “I just love mountain climbing and pushing my limits—that’s why I’m here. ‘In a blue robe, I stride boldly along perilous peaks’—that’s the pursuit of us martial artists. Do you understand?” Huo Yuanzhen laughed heartily: “‘In a blue robe, upright and bold, I tread the perilous peaks’—well said. But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and the last ten li of a hundred-li journey is the hardest. You’ve already climbed this far, with only the final ten-odd zhang left. It would be a shame to fall short at the very end. This Humble Monk will offer you his spiritual support to help you complete this great challenge.” After saying this, Huo Yuanzhen simply sat down to one side, thinking to himself, “You youngster dare to try to pull the wool over this old monk’s eyes? You’re still a bit too green.”