“Does Marquis Yun still remember Xuanzang? Can he succeed?” Yulin stood up, full of hope as he sought confirmation from Yun Ye.
“Heaven will not let down those with perseverance. Xuanzang will succeed. I saw him once in the wilderness. At that time, he was already in the Stone Kingdom. The people of the Nine Surnames of Zhaowu won’t harm a monk single-mindedly seeking Buddhist teachings. I’m still waiting to read his travelogue of the Western Regions.”
“May Buddha be merciful and bless Xuanzang’s safe return. The hope for Buddhism’s revival rests on him.” Monk Yulin pressed his palms together with extreme devotion and bowed toward the west.
“Old monk, what I detest most is how you people constantly place enormous responsibilities on one person’s shoulders, then stand aside watching coldly, waiting for miracles to appear. If you all harbor such thoughts, you might as well disband the temples sooner.”
Having reached this point in the conversation, Yulin basically understood the Emperor’s bottom line—Buddhism wouldn’t be exterminated, nor would Buddhist teachings be promoted. Maintaining suppression was the basic policy he intended to continue. He would only be interested in Buddhism’s wealth and wouldn’t greatly interfere with doctrine. This was already fortunate amid misfortune.
Yun Ye thought for a moment and said again: “I wonder if the Master has any interest in establishing temples on the grasslands? This young man has a small patch of grassland where herdsmen already number four to five thousand. I very much want to give them a spiritual anchor. What does the Master think?”
“Establishing temples now is certainly possible, but ordination certificates will require Marquis Yun’s efforts. This poor monk has heard that Marquis Yun also has influence in the south. Why not have this old monk also establish a temple in the south?”
There wasn’t a single expert in this world who could be easily fooled. Yun Ye had just planned to have the monks help pacify the hearts of the grassland herdsmen when Yulin had already set his sights on Li Anlan’s kingdom. Very well—rather than having those wild people in the trees worship those strange and bizarre ancient spirits that required human blood to manifest, they might as well all chant Amitabha Buddha together.
He pushed open the door, took a wooden box from Niu Jianhu’s hands, and handed it to Monk Yulin. Rubbing his nose, he said: “Master, I paid a high price to His Majesty for these ordination certificates—sixteen in total, all for senior monks. In other words, you can establish a total of sixteen temples. Of course, they won’t work in places like Guannei, Hedong, Hebei, Jiannan, Huainan, Huaibei, and Longyou. The grasslands and Lingnan are fine.”
“Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva vowed not to become Buddha until hell is empty. This old monk should naturally blaze new trails and reopen the Dharma gates, opening a path to rebirth for those kind people in the wilderness.”
When speaking this way, Yun Ye felt much more natural. Although Yun Ye would never admit he was a hypocrite, the way gentlemen spoke was indeed most refreshing and delightful. From now on, he should speak this way.
The door was pushed open. The young monk walked in carrying a bowl of medicinal soup, placed it on the table, and prepared to help Yulin drink his medicine. Having spent much time with Sun Simiao, Yun Ye could also smell out the efficacy of medicinal soups. For instance, this bowl of forsythia soup for clearing heat and calming the heart was very suitable for himself. These past days of traveling had caused his internal heat to rise and needed to be reduced. Having just sent the old monk a great gift, drinking his bowl of medicinal soup should be harmless. Besides, he didn’t need it anyway.
Yun Ye never knew what courtesy meant. Being courteous when visiting would only make himself uncomfortable—this was Uncle Cheng’s teaching and needed to be seriously implemented. When he eventually reached Uncle Yun’s level, this skill should be perfected. Thinking of this, he picked up the medicinal soup and drank it down in one gulp. It was very bitter—huanglian had actually been added. He took the orange peel water for rinsing his mouth from the dumbstruck young monk’s hands, gargled vigorously twice, then spat it out. His manner was extremely impolite.
The young monk was about to open his mouth to rebuke him when Yulin spoke first: “Bianji, don’t be rude. Marquis Yun has some internal heat. This medicinal soup suits him well. Dao Yue has always praised you for having deep precept observance and firm religious practice despite your young age. Why are you so reckless now? Withdraw.”
The young monk bowed his head to apologize to Yun Ye. Just a moment ago filled with anger, he instantly became calm and peaceful. Yun Ye watched this young monk with interest. Earlier under the veranda, he had vaguely heard others call him Bianji. Yun Ye had been very curious to see what kind of person this young monk was, whether he was a flower monk with deep scheming. Now it seemed that someone who could get angry wasn’t someone who could do something greatly rebellious.
“Why does Marquis Yun pay such attention to Bianji, even using medicinal soup to test his reaction? For what purpose?”
Old people become shrewd. Yun Ye had plenty of experience dealing with old foxes. Without much explanation, he just said: “When establishing temples, Master should best take Bianji with you. Before age fifty, he shouldn’t set foot in Chang’an. Otherwise, there will be a strange calamity.”
After speaking, he smiled and took his leave from Yulin, entrusted Monk Yulin to deliver Li Gang’s letter to Daoxin, then left Yulin’s room with his hands behind his back, preparing to tour Shaolin Temple properly and see the legendary seventy-two unique skills.
Tanyin and Jue Yuan were guarding at the door. Vaguely hearing Yun Ye and Yulin conversing pleasantly, they relaxed and waited quietly. Tanyin had already thought about how suspicious Master Yulin’s illness was this time—clearly without symptoms yet appearing on the verge of death. No one knew why the abbot would do this. Perhaps Yun Ye knew some inside information.
Seeing Master Yulin send Yun Ye out with a ruddy complexion, Tanyin knew the Master’s mental illness had been cured. Without worries, he naturally became more accommodating. Yun Ye could go wherever he wanted.
The Great Buddha Hall was the first place Yun Ye went to. Visiting temples and worshipping Buddha was proper etiquette. This hall was a double-eaved hip-and-gable roof building with five bays. In the center of the hall was enshrined the Present Buddha—Shakyamuni Tathagata Buddha. On the left was the Past Buddha—the Medicine Buddha of the Eastern Pure Lapis Lazuli World. On the right was the Future Buddha—Amitabha Buddha of the Western Pure Land of Bliss. Suspended sculptures of the Eighteen Arhats hung on the east and west walls inside the hall, while suspended sculptures of Avalokitesvara hung on the rear wall of the screen. The difference between Shaolin Temple’s Great Buddha Hall and other temples’ Great Buddha Halls was that here, on either side of the Three Ages Buddhas, were standing statues of Patriarch Bodhidharma and the Kimnara King, who was called the founder of Shaolin staff techniques.
After offering incense to Buddha, Yun Ye was attracted by the two qilins supporting the beams and pillars in the center of the hall. The entire hall enshrined images of barbarian people with deep eyebrows and wide eyes. Even the flying apsaras were bare-chested barbarian women. The only thing that could give Yun Ye some comfort was the Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, but she was hung behind the screen wall. Only the qilins were thoroughly products of Huaxia. Although they had dragon heads, ox bodies, and were covered with fish scales, looking rather pitiful, they made Yun Ye feel great affection.
Yun Ye’s favorable impression of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva came from one of his passages: “Good man, you observe the devas and humans as well as all sentient beings in the three evil paths, give rise to great compassion, wish to sever all sentient beings’ afflictions, wish to make sentient beings dwell in peace and happiness. Good man, I now bestow upon you the name Avalokitesvara.”
Yun Ye didn’t really understand what this passage meant. He only knew that Avalokitesvara had made a great vow to save the world. He just harbored resentment toward the beard on Avalokitesvara’s face. The Avalokitesvara Bodhisattvas he’d seen in later generations were all kind-faced female images. Suddenly seeing this handsome male form was a bit hard to accept.
Seeing Yun Ye somewhat disappointed, Tanyin smiled and said: “Some places enshrine the Bodhisattva in female form, based on the legend of King Miao Zhuang’s third daughter, incorporating our Huaxia filial piety, forming its own system. Regardless, the Great Compassionate Avalokitesvara has ten thousand manifestations and relieves all suffering. Marquis Yun paying respects will never be wrong.”
He knew this legend. Grandmother always said people with filial hearts were always good. That daughter of King Miao Zhuang, to cure her father’s illness,献出了自己的一只眼睛，一只手—献出了自己的一只眼睛和一只手—gave one of her eyes and one of her hands. As a result, Buddha granted her a thousand eyes plus a thousand arms—an eternal exemplar of filial piety.
Yun Ye had joked with Grandmother: if one day you fall ill, this grandson will also gouge out his eyes and chop off his hands to cure you. What do you think? What if Buddha doesn’t see this grandson’s filial act and forgets to give this grandson a thousand eyes and a thousand arms? That would be terrible. On the other hand, if truly given them, if this grandson dragged around a thousand hands and a thousand eyes everywhere, wouldn’t that scare others? The result of the joke was that Grandmother gave Yun Ye two hard whacks with her stick.
In front of the Sutra Library, there really was an old monk sweeping the floor. He was so old that his age was indiscernible. Cheng Chumo, Niu Jianhu, and Dan Ying circled around the old monk, examining him from top to bottom. In Yun Ye’s story, this old monk had heaven-reaching and earth-penetrating abilities—with just a broom, he sent two supreme masters fleeing in panic.
Now reality differed greatly from legend. This monk, emaciated to the extreme and aged to the extreme, seemed like he could be blown over by a gust of wind. Cheng Chumo was looking at the old monk’s slack and withered muscles. Niu Jianhu was observing the old monk’s unstable and weak lower body stance. Dan Ying was listening to the old monk’s rapid breathing and the sounds in his chest cavity. No matter how you looked at it, the only skill this old monk could display was the divine art of falling over—he had not the slightest connection with being a master.
Out of respect for the elderly, the three didn’t propose sparring with him. Tanyin paid respects to the old monk very reverently. Niu Jianhu, holding onto one last thread of hope, asked Tanyin: “What is this Master’s dharma name?”
Tanyin replied: “Young Marquis Niu, this floor-sweeping monk has been sweeping at the Sutra Library since I came to Shaolin. At that time, he wasn’t this old yet. This old monk has been at Shaolin for over fifty years, which means he’s been here for at least fifty years.”
Hearing these words, Niu Jianhu’s heart became even more uncertain. If the old monk was fifty years old back then, wouldn’t he be a hundred years old now? Perhaps this one had even met Patriarch Bodhidharma who crossed the river on a reed.
Regardless of whether he had martial arts skills, his age alone deserved everyone’s respect. In unison, several people pressed their palms together and paid respects to the old monk. The old monk seemed deaf to all this, still sweeping the already very clean ground one sweep at a time.
Arriving at the Sutra Library, the “Marrow Cleansing Classic” and “Muscle-Tendon Transformation Classic” must be seen. Yun Ye said they were the world’s most profound martial arts treasures, rarely seen by ordinary people. Now with the supervising master accompanying them, they could surely fulfill their long-cherished wish.
Hearing the three’s request, Tanyin said with a smile that the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Classic was still there, but the Marrow Cleansing Classic had been taken away by Huike and its whereabouts were unknown. The Muscle-Tendon Transformation Classic was merely twelve forms of external martial arts. Seeing that the three of them liked martial arts, what harm was there in looking?
Hearing Tanyin say this, Niu Jianhu and the other two quickly rushed into the Sutra Library. Yun Ye leisurely followed behind. Only for some reason, Yun Ye felt that the old monk seemed to have glanced at him. When he turned around to look again, he saw no one else—only that old monk still slowly sweeping the floor.