The Shaolin Abbot Born in the 1980s

Chapter 39: The Flower of Love Bears the Fruit of Zen

When the villagers arrived at Shaolin and saw Huo Yuanzhen, they all bowed in respect. Huo Yuanzhen returned their bows and walked to the temple gate, where an open space lay before him—the spot he had long planned to build the bell tower. Today, Huo Yuanzhen had decided to demonstrate a miracle before everyone. After all, the construction token would vanish with a single thought—he didn’t need to hold it in his hand, and no one would be able to tell anything was amiss. However, before beginning construction, he still needed to make an announcement. He summoned everyone from Shaolin, and they all gathered in front of the temple gate. Seeing this scene, the villagers realized something might be about to happen and gathered around; Li Yuntian and Huang Xiaofu were also standing among the crowd. This Humble Monk addressed the crowd: “Dear lay followers, last night, the Buddha appeared to This Humble Monk in a dream and said that at the hour of Chen today, a divine miracle would once again manifest on the bell tower here at Shaolin. As the time is nearly upon us, This Humble Monk has led the Shaolin disciples here to welcome the Buddha’s miracle. You, dear lay followers, are also welcome to watch from the sidelines.” The crowd instantly erupted into excitement; many could hardly contain their enthusiasm, including the Shaolin monks standing behind Huo Yuanzhen. After all, apart from Guan Shanyue, who had once witnessed the Buddha’s descent at the Shaolin Mountain Gate, none of the others had ever seen the Buddha’s miraculous manifestation. At this point, Li Yuntian began to waver in his own judgment, for the monk appeared far too composed. Could it be that the Shaolin Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda was truly, as legend claimed, a gift from the Buddha to the Shaolin Temple? Moreover, now that the monk had spoken, if no miracle occurred, it would undoubtedly deal a fatal blow to Yu Shaolin’s prestige. As long as the abbot was in his right mind, he would never make light of such a matter. He glanced at the time. The hour of Chen ran from 7:00 to 9:00 a. m. , and it was already past 7:30—it was nearly time. He led the Shaolin monks to sit down in their places and asked the villagers to step back a bit to clear space in front of the bell tower. Seeing that everything was in order, Huo Yuanzhen silently recited the incantation to activate the Construction Token. The Construction Token, which had been in Huo Yuanzhen’s robe, vanished instantly, and the outline of a bell tower materialized exactly where he had envisioned it. Witnessing this sudden, miraculous sight, the people were first left speechless, then knelt down in unison. With tears welling in their eyes, they devoutly chanted the Buddha’s name and bowed their heads repeatedly. Li Yuntian and Huang Xiaofu stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what to do. The bell tower gradually solidified, taking on a tangible form. Huo Yuanzhen stood with his eyes tightly closed, his hands pressed together in prayer, while the Shaolin monks stared intently at this unprecedented miracle without blinking once. This process lasted about ten minutes, until the bell tower finally appeared before everyone. The bell tower stood over ten zhang tall, with a spiral staircase winding around it in concentric circles leading to the top. Built of red brick and tile, with glazed roof tiles and projecting eaves, it had wind chimes hanging from its four corners. Though merely a bell tower, it gave off a majestic and imposing aura, exuding extraordinary grandeur. Amid the crowd’s admiring gazes, Huo Yuanzhen climbed the bell tower. As he climbed the winding steps to the top, he found a massive bronze bell suspended there. The bell’s mouth measured a full 1. 5 meters in diameter and stood over 3 meters tall, its surface carved with flowers, birds, fish, insects, and auspicious creatures such as cranes and divine deer. Huo Yuanzhen stepped beneath the bell and tapped it lightly; a deep, resonant hum filled the air. He glanced at the system clock—it was almost exactly 8:00. There were two iron bolts on either side, with massive battering rams suspended from them. Huo Yuanzhen arrived at the spot, keeping track of the time, and the moment the clock struck eight, he pushed the battering ram with all his might. “Clang!” The deafening sound echoed through the heavens, shaking the mountains and forests. Birds in the distant woods took flight. Never before had such a loud sound been heard in the Shaoshi Mountain—except for thunder. Huo Yuanzhen continued to push the battering ram. The sound of the provincial bell echoed through the valley, causing the nearby villagers who had risen early to work to look instinctively toward the source of the sound. “That’s the direction of the Shaolin Temple!” “Listen! That bell—it’s the bell of the Shaolin Temple!” “It wasn’t there when I went a few days ago—how could they have repaired the bell tower so quickly?” “What do you mean, ‘repaired’? The Shaolin Temple is a sacred place blessed by the Buddha—everything there is a divine miracle. Didn’t you see that grand temple gate?” “Come on, let’s go together—let’s go check out the Shaolin Temple!” The sound of the bell even reached the Dharma King Temple, dozens of li away, where the people there looked this way in puzzlement—but unfortunately, they could see nothing. The people gathered at the foot of the bell tower felt a sense of inner clarity. Truly, these morning bells and evening drums were deeply moving; even Li Yuntian couldn’t help but feel the urge to kneel and pay homage. As he looked at Huang Xiaofu beside him, not a trace of desire remained in his heart. After eight consecutive tolls, Huo Yuanzhen stepped down from the bell tower. Though it was merely a monotonous toll, the crowd was left wanting more, wishing the bell would keep ringing forever so they could listen on and on. Back among the Shaolin monks, Yikong asked, “Abbot, why were there eight bell strikes? Why not nine? Nine is the number of good fortune, after all.” Huo Yuanzhen had originally intended to say it was because it was eight o’clock, but he suddenly realized that in this world, there was no concept of “o’clock”—only the traditional Chinese hours. With the words already on his lips, he changed his answer: “Eight sounds like ‘fa’—it signifies that our Shaolin Temple is destined for prosperity.” “The Abbot is wise, but we are Buddhists—what does ‘prosperity’ have to do with us?” Huo Yuanzhen shot Yikong a glance: “The new clothes you’re wearing, the quarters you live in, the food you eat—aren’t they all much better than before? Which of these doesn’t require money to buy? I notice you eat more than anyone else every time.” Yikong fell silent, feeling a bit sheepish. It was true—the standard of living at Shaolin had skyrocketed. Aside from not being able to eat meat, they ate just about everything else; sometimes they even managed to get some monkey-head mushrooms to make soup in the evenings. He himself had put on quite a bit of weight lately. He could argue the point in theory, but when it came to practical life, Yikong decided it was safer to follow the abbot’s lead. After striking the bell, Huo Yuanzhen’s task was essentially complete. He approached Li Yuntian and Huang Xiaofu and said, “My two benefactors, our meeting is a matter of fate. This Humble Monk has other business to attend to, so I won’t see you off any further.” After saying this, Huo Yuanzhen turned and walked back. Li Yuntian stared after him in a daze, then suddenly quickened his pace to catch up, following behind Huo Yuanzhen as he said, “Abbot, so you really can communicate with the Buddha! You’re truly remarkable—could you be an immortal?” Huo Yuanzhen shook his head. “This Humble Monk has only the Buddha in his heart; he knows nothing about immortals.” “I’m sorry for being so forward, Abbot. I think this place is wonderful, and I’d like… to stay here for a while.” Having experienced such inexplicable events from start to finish, Li Yuntian felt a strong curiosity and fondness—even a sense of admiration—toward the Shaolin Temple and its Abbot, who was about his own age, and he wanted to stay at Shaolin for a few more days. Unexpectedly, Huo Yuanzhen shook his head: “Layman, Shaolin is not the right place for you.” “Why?” Li Yuntian was a bit puzzled. Huo Yuanzhen glanced at Huang Xiaofu, who was following far behind Li Yuntian: “The flower of love has taken root in your heart; it will never bear the fruit of Zen. You’d better go back and do what you’re supposed to do. I can see that you have a heart turned toward the Buddha, but whether you live in the world or beyond it, both are forms of spiritual practice. As long as the Buddha resides in your heart, it makes no difference where you are.” Li Yuntian had intended to object—to say he didn’t actually have a heart turned toward the Buddha, but was merely curious—yet when the words reached his lips, he suddenly found himself unable to speak. He sensed that such words shouldn’t be spoken; he knew he would regret them afterward. Could it be true, as the Abbot had said, that he had indeed developed a heart turned toward the Buddha? Li Yuntian wasn’t sure. Seeing Li Yuntian freeze in place, Huo Yuanzhen chuckled to himself, but still said aloud, “Go now, and seek out what belongs to you. If you’re so inclined, just come back and visit this old monk from time to time.” Li Yuntian followed Huang Xiaofu somewhat dazed. When they reached the temple gate, he suddenly turned back and called out loudly, “Abbot, I’ll definitely come back often in the future.” “Amitabha Buddha!” Huo Yuanzhen chanted the Buddha’s name from a distance. Li Yuntian was about to bow to Huo Yuanzhen, but Huang Xiaofu, standing beside him, felt something was amiss. Why was her “Big Brother Li” showing more respect to a monk than he did to her? Driven by a woman’s instinct, she grabbed Li Yuntian’s arm and hurried out of the Shaolin Temple as if fleeing. Seeing Li Yuntian leave reluctantly, Huo Yuanzhen felt deeply satisfied. Today’s entire scene had, in fact, been staged largely for his benefit; he had already planted the seeds of Zen in Li Yuntian’s heart, and sooner or later, they would take root and sprout. A flower of love need not necessarily fail to bear the fruit of Zen. However, Huo Yuanzhen had no intention of ever actually taking Li Yuntian in as a monk; it was not her wish to disrupt a blissful marriage. All she wanted was everything related to the Tian Dao Alliance. People were still streaming up the mountain from below, all drawn by the sound of the Shaolin temple bells. Guan Shanyue walked up to Huo Yuanzhen and whispered, “Abbot, everything is ready. It’s waiting at the foot of the mountain. We can go tonight.” Huo Yuanzhen nodded. “Very well. Let’s do it today.” Guan Shanyue thought for a moment and added, “But these items are quite heavy; people won’t be able to carry them all the way up. We’ll need a cart to haul them.” “No problem. I’ve just acquired a White Horse recently. Hitch it to the cart, and we’ll set out shortly.” The White Horse, which shared a deep spiritual connection with Huo Yuanzhen, was grazing on the back mountain when it suddenly shuddered, sensing that something ominous was about to befall it.