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 49: Visitors from Mount Wutai
Just then, Huiming came in to report that two monks had arrived and were now waiting outside the courtyard. They claimed to be from Wenshu Temple on Mount Wutai and said they had come to help the Shaolin Temple resolve its current crisis; they wished to see the Abbot. Huo Yuanzhen and Guan Shanyue exchanged glances, both somewhat taken aback. Wenshu Temple on Mount Wutai was also a Buddhist sect—the authentic place of practice for Manjusri Bodhisattva. Its head abbot, Master Pudu Chan, was a master who had attained the Xiantian Realm, and the sect enjoyed considerable prestige in the martial arts world. But why would people from Manjusri Temple come all the way to Shaolin? The two temples are separated by a thousand li, and they have no prior connection to Shaolin—it seemed utterly unlikely that they would make a special trip just to offer assistance. But since they had come, Huo Yuanzhen could not simply stand by and do nothing; he quickly sent Huiming to invite the guests inside. A moment later, two monks entered the room, both clad in gray robes. One was slightly older, around forty, while the other was a young monk in his twenties. The two entered the room, looked around, and realized something was amiss. Huo Yuanzhen and Guan Shanyue were both present, but Huo Yuanzhen was seated in the seat of honor, while Guan Shanyue sat to one side. Judging by their appearance, Guan Shanyue was older and looked mature and dignified—he should have been the abbot—while Huo Yuanzhen was younger and likely just a young monk who ran errands, did odd jobs, and served tea. But why on earth was Huo Yuanzhen sitting in the seat of honor? The two monks were a bit confused by the situation and hesitated for a moment. Guan Shanyue quickly stood up and said to the two monks, “Venerable Masters, this is our temple’s Abbot Yi Jie.” The two looked surprised and hurriedly bowed, saying, “Abbot Yi Jie, This Humble Monk, Pu Hang (Pu Yin), greets you.” Huo Yuanzhen did not stand up, but remained seated as he chanted the Buddha’s name: “Amitabha Buddha. Please take a seat, both of you.” Pu Hang, the senior monk, noticed Huo Yuanzhen’s slight lack of courtesy and couldn’t help but look displeased, but he sat down nonetheless. Pu Yin was even more displeased and was about to speak up when Pu Hang pulled him back, and he sat down as well. Standing nearby, Guan Shanyue noticed that Huo Yuanzhen seemed to be treating the two men with disregard. He had intended to say something, but the words stopped at his lips as he seemed to realize something. “Abbot Yi Jie, This Humble Monk comes from Wenshu Temple on Mount Wutai, where I serve as the Chief Monk of the Discipline Hall.” After Pu Hang finished speaking, a smug look appeared on his face as he stared directly at Huo Yuanzhen, waiting to see how he would react. Wenshu Temple on Mount Wutai was indeed quite renowned, but Huo Yuanzhen had traveled through time from another era and knew little about the martial arts sects of this world. Even the Demon Cult—currently regarded as the most powerful sect under heaven—was, in his eyes, nothing more than a label. Therefore, Pu Hang’s attempt to show off had absolutely no effect on him. Huo Yuanzhen merely nodded indifferently: “I’ve heard of it.” Pu Yin’s expression changed drastically; he sprang to his feet, looking as if he were about to explode. Pu Hang tugged at Pu Yin again, signaling him to stay silent. With a somewhat cold expression, Pu Hang said, “Abbot, This Humble Monk and my disciple were passing through Baofang when we heard about the matter between your sect and the Dharma King Temple. We’ve also heard the people speaking highly of your sect. We understand that your sect is likely facing difficult times right now. Out of a sense of fellowship as members of the Buddhist Order, we made a special trip to offer our assistance. However, it seems your sect does not welcome us.” Huo Yuanzhen chuckled. “Adding flowers to brocade is certainly nice, but it cannot compare to the kindness of bringing coal in the snow. Since the two of you have come to stand by us and lend your support here at Shaolin, This Humble Monk naturally welcomes you.” Hearing Yuanzhen’s arrogant tone, Pu Hang let out a cold laugh: “Abbot Yi Jie, that’s quite a bold statement. Although This Humble Monk and my disciples have traveled a long way, we’ve also heard about your temple’s situation. Without outside aid, your temple will likely struggle to weather this crisis. I never expected Abbot Yi Jie to put on such a confident facade in front of us—doesn’t that go against the teachings of our Buddha?” Huo Yuanzhen thought to himself: “Doctrines? What good are doctrines? If I weren’t planning to return to lay life, I wouldn’t bother being This Humble Monk in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t let you two spout your nonsense in front of me.” Nevertheless, Huo Yuanzhen replied, “You two have misunderstood. We at Shaolin have everything under control; it’s just that many matters are best kept from outsiders.” “Hmph, hmph…” Pu Hang snorted twice, reached into his robe, and pulled out two objects. Huo Yuanzhen looked at them with curiosity—they were two iron balls. Perhaps they weren’t actually made of iron, but they were certainly metal—much like some old men in his past life who liked to twirl two porcelain balls in their hands to stimulate blood circulation and stay fit. Pu Hang took out the iron balls and spun them continuously in his hands as he spoke, “It seems Abbot Yi Jie doesn’t trust This Humble Monk and my disciple.” Huo Yuanzhen thought to himself, “As if I’d ever trust you lot! You’ve come all the way to Shaolin specifically to lend a hand—I don’t believe for a second you’re being this generous out of the goodness of your hearts. You’re definitely up to something.” He laughed heartily. “Master Pu Hang, let’s be frank. If you truly wish to lend a hand, this Abbot welcomes you with open arms. But I wonder just how skilled the two of you are—will you measure up to this Abbot’s standards?” Pu Hang glanced at Huo Yuanzhen, curled his lip in contempt, then said to Pu Yin, “Disciple, show the Abbot what you’ve got.” The young monk named Pu Yin nodded and stood up. Huo Yuanzhen was puzzled—this cramped room offered no room to maneuver, so what exactly was he going to demonstrate? Pu Yin stood up but didn’t move; instead, he closed his eyes and remained motionless, as if gathering his inner energy. Huo Yuanzhen was truly astonished. Suddenly, Pu Yin’s robes began to move—without any breeze—and gradually began to billow out! “Could there be a balloon inside?” In truth, Huo Yuanzhen was a complete novice when it came to martial arts, especially internal energy. He hadn’t reached the mid-stage of the Postnatal Realm, so his internal energy couldn’t circulate throughout his body—let alone be projected outward. He assumed the monk was just pulling a magic trick on him. In contrast, Guan Shanyue wore a solemn expression as he said in a deep voice, “Projecting inner energy—that’s the peak of the mid-stage of the Posthuman Realm. So young, and yet truly remarkable.” Having shown off his skills, Pu Yin opened his eyes, withdrew his inner energy, and his robes returned to normal. He then sat down, his face beaming with pride. Pu Hang had been watching Huo Yuanzhen the whole time. He saw that although Huo Yuanzhen looked surprised, he showed not the slightest hint of shock. This made Pu Hang feel a bit uncertain about the purpose of their visit—it seemed this young abbot had a very broad perspective. Those with broad horizons are generally quite capable; it seemed his disciple simply wasn’t up to the task yet. He’d have to take matters into his own hands! Pu Hang was determined to succeed on this trip, so he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. Standing up, Pu Hang said, “Abbot Yi Jie, my disciple is nineteen years old this year. I’d like to demonstrate some of my rudimentary skills before you, though I’m afraid they may be rather crude.” Huo Yuanzhen laughed, “No problem. You’re young—you’ll have plenty of opportunities.” Over there, Pu Yin glared at Huo Yuanzhen, thinking to himself, “I bet you’re not even as old as I am—what are you trying to pull?” “You’ve seen my abilities, Abbot. I’m at the peak of the mid-stage of the ‘After Heaven’ realm. I wonder if I might be of some help to you at this Dengfeng Tournament?” “It’s passable,” Huo Yuanzhen replied vaguely. Pu Hang’s expression grew even more somber as he continued, “Then please, Abbot, see if This Humble Monk’s skills might prove useful.” After speaking, Pu Hang held out an iron ball in his hand toward Huo Yuanzhen, gesturing for him to take it. Huo Yuanzhen wasn’t sure what this was about, but he took the iron ball anyway. The moment he took it, he felt its unexpected weight, and Huo Yuanzhen couldn’t help but feel furious inside. After all, Huo Yuanzhen had just mastered the seventh level of the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Art, giving him arm strength of nearly a thousand jin, yet he could still feel the considerable weight of this iron ball—a clear sign that it was no ordinary object. By Huo Yuanzhen’s estimate, this small ball alone weighed nearly sixty or seventy jin—it certainly wasn’t made of ordinary metal. This Pu Hang Monk had ulterior motives; he wanted to make him look foolish in public. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had just practiced the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Art today, greatly increasing his strength, he feared that the moment he caught the iron ball, it would either slip from his grasp or send him tumbling to the ground. “Give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile. I’ll have to show him who’s boss,” Huo Yuanzhen thought angrily to himself, though his expression remained impassive. He said to Pu Hang, “I am well aware of your skills, Abbot. May I ask what you require?” Over there, Pu Hang was even more startled—this young abbot had caught his iron balls without even moving his wrist! After all, this pair of iron balls, forged from refined mystic iron, weighed a total of one hundred and fifty jin—seventy-five jin each. He usually carried them in a special deerskin pouch slung diagonally across his waist just to transport them. Yet this abbot, completely unprepared and without channeling any inner energy, handled the refined mystic iron as if it were nothing more than a walnut. Was… was this even human? In Pu Hang’s mind, Huo Yuanzhen’s prowess had risen to a whole new level—at the very least, he was now on par with him. But clearly, he had also earned the abbot’s recognition. Pu Hang continued, ““Helping Shaolin isn’t difficult. Both my disciple Pu Yin and I are willing to step into the ring to fight. We have no ulterior motives—we’re simply members of the Buddhist Order helping one another. If the Abbot doesn’t mind, please allow the two of us to stay at Shaolin for a while and provide us with some vegetarian meals. That way, we won’t have to go out begging and endure the hardships of sleeping under the open sky.” Huo Yuanzhen nodded: “That’s a simple request.” But inwardly he thought, “What are these two monks up to? Offering room and board in exchange for free muscle—who are they trying to fool? Something’s definitely off.” However, Huo Yuanzhen hadn’t yet figured out what that problem might be. Handing the heavy iron ball back to Pu Hang, Huo Yuanzhen said, “Thank you both for your trouble. Yichun, please show them to their quarters.” “Yes, Abbot,” Guan Shanyue nodded in agreement, then said to the two men, “Please follow me!” The two monks nodded and followed Guan Shanyue out. As they walked, Pu Hang asked Guan Shanyue, “Master, just how skilled is your abbot in martial arts?” “Very high—unfathomable!” Guan Shanyue replied with just those two words, his tone matter-of-fact. Pu Hang asked no further, but simply gripped the Xuan Iron Ball a little tighter. On the iron ball he had just given to Huo Yuanzhen, there was actually a faint fingerprint—one that Huo Yuanzhen had left by squeezing it. It’s worth noting that Pu Hang had been right beside Huo Yuanzhen just moments ago; he knew full well that the other man hadn’t used any inner energy at all—he’d simply squeezed it out with sheer strength.
