The Shaolin Abbot Born in the 1980s

Chapter 45: Chen Ding’s Challenge

Dharma King Temple fell into decline overnight. After the miraculous consecration ceremony in the Great Hall of the Buddha, not a single pilgrim came to burn incense. The occasional uninformed person who tried to visit was sure to be ridiculed by those around them. Upon waking, their abbot, Dharma King Likong, announced the dissolution of the temple; the monks, both senior and junior, were to fend for themselves, while he himself packed up his belongings and went to seek refuge with a junior monk of his. Most of the monks left the temple, but not all of them departed. Monk Li Xuan did not leave, and along with him, four or five other monks remained. These men shared one common trait: they were all highly skilled in martial arts. It is said that Monk Li Xuan gritted his teeth and refused to leave, determined to take revenge on the Shaolin Abbot Yijie; he vowed never to leave Shaoshi Mountain until this grudge was avenged. Of course, no one took his words seriously anymore; if he didn’t want to leave, so be it—no one was interested in giving him another glance. In stark contrast to the Dharma King Temple stood Huo Yuanzhen’s Shaolin Temple. After wreaking havoc at the Dharma King Temple and defeating three high monks in succession, Huo Yuanzhen’s fame among the common people reached unprecedented heights. People revered him as a Living Buddha, and tales of his battles with high monks spread far and wide. Abbot Yi Jie’s compassionate heart had become widely known among the common folk; whenever anyone felt troubled or unhappy, the first person they thought to seek out for guidance was Abbot Yi Jie. It is said that the Buddha possesses supreme wisdom, and now it seems that Abbot Yi Jie does as well—whatever troubles you may have, just speak to him and he is sure to make all your worries vanish. Many even said that Abbot Yi Jie didn’t even need to explain anything in detail—simply sitting there and striking the Wooden Fish would calm your mind and help you forget all your troubles. Word of this spread like wildfire, and before long, crowds were flocking to Yuzhai Mountain every day—some to burn incense and pay respects at the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda, others simply to seek out the abbot himself. People seeking wealth, official positions, or children—and even those suffering from physical ailments—all went to Abbot Yi Jie for healing, spreading the rumor that he was capable of anything. In reality, Huo Yuanzhen had only received visitors for five consecutive days before he could no longer keep up. He had absolutely no time to practice his “Child’s Art,” let alone rest. Finally, with no other choice, he announced that he was entering seclusion to meditate and would not receive outside visitors—only then did he find some peace. Although Li Xuan remained on Shaoshi Mountain, still clinging to the Dharma King Temple and vowing revenge, Huo Yuanzhen no longer gave him a second thought; with masters like Guan Shanyue by his side, Li Xuan was powerless to cause any trouble. In the wake of this incident, the number of lay disciples applying to Shaolin Temple surged once again. Every day, around three hundred young people came to apply, and they all seemed quite devout. This time, however, Huo Yuanzhen applied even stricter admission standards. Since several lay disciples who had wavered in their loyalty following the miraculous events at the Dharma King Temple had already been expelled from the sect, Huo Yuanzhen now placed even greater emphasis on loyalty as a key criterion. Yet even with such strict requirements, the number of disciples admitted this time was still significantly higher than last time. After more than ten consecutive days of recruitment and screening—during which he accepted only about two disciples per day—a total of thirty-six disciples were finally selected. As per Huo Yuanzhen’s instructions, all these disciples had their hair shaved into crew cuts; though not completely bald, their hair was nearly short enough to reflect light. Afterward, their uniforms were standardized, and the time allocated for martial arts training and Buddhist practice was increased. Although many laypeople had applied, Huo Yuanzhen still felt the number was insufficient, as relatively few were truly willing to take monastic vows and become full-fledged Shaolin disciples. Studying Buddhism to cultivate the mind was one thing, and practicing martial arts to strengthen the body was another, but when it came to completely abandoning the temptations of the outside world, most people simply couldn’t bring themselves to take that drastic step. Recruiting full-fledged disciples was no easy task, but Huo Yuanzhen wasn’t in a rush. During this period, Huo Yuanzhen spent his days practicing the “Child’s Art” and occasionally found time to observe the lay disciples’ martial arts training; it was difficult for outsiders to gain an audience with him. Although the only formal structures currently in place were the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda, the Bell Tower, and the Mountain Gate, the Shaolin Temple’s infrastructure was well-developed, with dining halls and dormitories fully equipped; the original small temple was now reserved solely for Huo Yuanzhen to live in. Day after day passed, and on the twenty-third of July, Huo Yuanzhen counted the days on his fingers: there were still five days left until the twenty-eighth of July. In five days, he would be able to enter the lottery again—and this time, he absolutely could not miss it. He had thought those five days would pass uneventfully, but just around noon on the 23rd, Guan Shanyue suddenly rushed in, panting, and said to Huo Yuanzhen, “Senior Brother Abbot, it’s terrible—Huang Feihong and Su Can have both been injured.” Huo Yuanzhen was practicing the “Child’s Art” in his room when he heard Guan Shanyue’s words. He snapped his eyes open, a flash of divine light gleaming in his gaze: “What happened?” The “Child’s Art” is the purest form of internal cultivation in the world, and since this was a critical moment in Huo Yuanzhen’s practice, the sudden opening of his eyes naturally carried an aura so overwhelming it took one’s breath away. Guan Shanyue was deeply startled, sensing that Huo Yuanzhen’s martial prowess was immense and unfathomable. Nevertheless, Guan Shanyue replied, “Senior Brother Abbot, here’s what happened: Today, Huang Feihong and Su Can ran into Niu Er’s gang again in Dengfeng County. We’ve had a history with them, and when we met, words didn’t go well—it didn’t take long before they came to blows.” Huo Yuanzhen nodded. “That makes sense. However, since Feihong and Su Can have been training diligently, even if Niu Er and his gang outnumber them, they shouldn’t be a match for them.” Both Huang Feihong and Su Can were prodigies in martial arts, with natural talent rivaling that of Yijing. Having been trained recently by the master Guan Shanyue, Huo Yuanzhen believed that Niu Er’s gang of thugs truly stood no chance against them. Guan Shanyue said, “That’s right. Niu Er and his group of eight or nine were soundly defeated by Feihong and Su Can.” “Then why were they injured?” “Just as it looked like Huang Feihong and Su Can were about to win, that Chen Ding showed up.” Huo Yuanzhen thought for a moment and recalled who Chen Ding was—he was none other than the “Iron Fan Immortal, the dashing knight-errant” Chen Dingchen, the “Grand Master Chen,” who had greeted them at the money exchange that day. Moreover, when Niu Er and his gang came to cause trouble at the Shaolin Temple that day, someone had mentioned that Niu Er was Chen Ding’s brother-in-law. “You mean Chen Ding, the ‘Iron Fan Immortal, the Dashing Hero’ from Dengfeng County?” “Yes, that’s the guy. When he saw Niu Er and his men getting beaten up, he immediately intervened, injuring Fei Hong and Su Can. He even threatened that if any of us Shaolin disciples ever set foot in Dengfeng County again, he’d beat up every single one of us he came across.” Huo Yuanzhen closed his eyes and remained silent. After a moment, he spoke: “How skilled is this man in martial arts?” “His martial arts are average—mid-Postnatal Realm, not yet having reached the late stage. Relying on his skill with the iron fan to strike pressure points, he’s considered a big shot in Dengfeng County, but in Henan Province, he doesn’t even rank.” Disdain tinged Guan Shanyue’s tone. Indeed, in the eyes of someone like him—who had reached the Great Perfection of the Post-Heaven Realm—a person who hadn’t even reached the Late Stage of the Post-Heaven Realm was truly nothing to speak of. “Late Post-Heaven stage…” Huo Yuanzhen’s tone turned displeased. “Fei Hong and Su Can haven’t cultivated internal energy yet; they aren’t even at the early Post-Heaven stage. They’re merely decent at external martial arts. For him, a master of internal martial arts, to dare attack Fei Hong and the others—it seems he truly intends to provoke us at Shaolin.” After speaking, Huo Yuanzhen continued, “How are Fei Hong and Su Can’s injuries? Where are they now?” “Actually, it’s nothing serious. They were shaken by the palm strike of an internal martial artist. Someone has already brought them back. I gave them a brief infusion of true qi, so they’re fine now. They’re resting in their rooms, though they’ll likely need to recuperate for ten days or so.” “That’s good to hear.” Guan Shanyue hesitated slightly, but then spoke up: “Feihong and the others brought back a letter.” “What kind of letter?” “It’s a challenge to battle from Chen Ding.” “A challenge!” Huo Yuanzhen’s eyebrows twitched slightly. How could there be a challenge now? “Chen Ding said that Shaolin has no real skills, yet dares to teach others martial arts. On the fifteenth day of the eighth month—the Mid-Autumn Festival—he’ll hold a martial arts tournament in Dengfeng to challenge us at Shaolin.” “With just him?” Huo Yuanzhen was somewhat taken aback. As a mid-Postnatal cultivator, Chen Ding was being rather overconfident in challenging the Shaolin Temple. Not to mention Guan Shanyue, a master of the highest caliber—even Iron Ox, a giant with superhuman strength, was no match for Chen Ding. Guan Shanyue said, “It’s not just him. Rumor has it that lately, he’s been getting very close to Li Xuan of the Dharma King Temple.” “I see,” Huo Yuanzhen chuckled. “No wonder. So they’ve joined forces again. They’re a nest of snakes and rats—deluded and delusional.” Guan Shanyue said, “Yes, this matter is entirely up to you, Abbot. If you wish to deal with them, I will go and round them all up. If you’d rather not get involved, we can simply claim to be a Buddhist sect, stay out of the martial arts world’s conflicts, and just ignore them.” Huo Yuanzhen stood up and paced around the room, deep in thought. What Guan Shanyue said made sense, but neither option was what Huo Yuanzhen wanted. He had a mission to fulfill: Shaolin must become the number one martial arts sect under heaven, and he himself must become the leader of the martial arts world. Therefore, this Shaolin was vastly different from the Shaolin of his previous life—it was no longer a purely Buddhist Order, and sooner or later, it would inevitably have to enter the martial arts world. However, the Shaolin Temple’s foundations were currently too weak; it didn’t even have the internal cultivation manuals for its disciples to practice, nor did it possess a single decent external martial art—its combat prowess was lacking. But what must come will come—the Shaolin Temple must step into the martial world. This Dengfeng Tournament was, in fact, an opportunity to train the disciples. Moreover, with Guan Shanyue—their ace in the hole—on their side, Huo Yuanzhen felt certain that his faction could not lose. In fact, Huo Yuanzhen could tell that deep down, Guan Shanyue was a restless soul; in his heart, he most likely wanted to go as well. Noticing the expectant look in Guan Shanyue’s eyes, Huo Yuanzhen chuckled, “You’re saying one thing but thinking another. If we don’t participate in this tournament, I’m afraid many people—including you—will feel frustrated.” “Hehe, Abbot, you have such keen insight—there’s nothing in this world you can’t see through.” In front of Huo Yuanzhen, Guan Shanyue showed not a shred of a master’s composure; he showered him with flattery and displayed an incredibly thick skin. “Very well. We have twenty days left. Let’s go face these two clowns. Dharma King Temple—hmm, a place where the dead won’t even stiffen.” In front of Guan Shanyue, Huo Yuanzhen also shed much of his image as a venerable monk, gradually baring his sharp claws and fangs.