The ninth day of the twelfth lunar month.
An Ziyang left the An Estate and rode his horse swiftly.
Quanzhou Prefecture was not far from Shaolin, so An Ziyang arrived outside the Shaolin mountain gate that afternoon.
After tethering his horse, An Ziyang stepped forward and knocked on the mountain gate.
A moment later, an Attendant Monk came over and bowed to him.
"Benefactor, I am truly sorry. Our temple has suffered a misfortune these past few days, and many buildings within the temple have been damaged. We are currently undergoing repairs and cannot receive pilgrims. If you wish to offer incense and worship Buddha, please return for now and come back another day."
The news that Shaolin's mountain gate had been breached by the Ming Cult had already spread after Xing Chi's passing and the departure of the martial artists that day. Shaolin also had no intention of concealing the news.
An Ziyang said to the Attendant Monk.
"Master, I am not a pilgrim. I was entrusted by someone to come and find someone."
"Oh?"
The Attendant Monk sized An Ziyang up and down.
As an Attendant Monk of Shaolin, his martial arts were not bad, and his discernment was even more exceptional. He could tell An Ziyang's martial arts foundation at a glance, and from his attire, his family background was quite wealthy.
However, looking at his complexion, he seemed like a dissolute playboy, with his vital essence somewhat depleted—colloquially known as kidney deficiency.
What kind of person would come to Shaolin to find someone?
"May I ask, Benefactor, by whom were you entrusted, and whom are you seeking?"
"It's not that this monk is being nosy, but it is my duty. If I don't ask clearly, it will be difficult to announce."
An Ziyang pondered for a moment.
He was also a bit unsure. What was Li Miao, a Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards) member, asking him to do by finding Shaolin's new abbot? He hoped Li Miao wasn't planning trouble and using him to scout ahead.
After thinking it over, he decided to tell the truth: "I was entrusted by Li Daxia, Li Miao, to find your temple's abbot, Master Yongjie."
Who knew that as soon as he spoke, the Attendant Monk's expression instantly changed.
"Li Daxia!?"
"Where is he now? Did he not come with you?"
"Why did he not come in person? Is there some trouble?"
"Does he need aid from my Shaolin?"
The Attendant Monk's rapid-fire questions left An Ziyang a bit stunned.
"No, it's just that Li Daxia is tied up with some matters, so he asked me to deliver a message to Master Yongjie. If your temple is not convenient, I can come back in a few days..."
"Convenient! Convenient!"
The Attendant Monk's face showed a smile so enthusiastic it almost violated the monastic precepts.
"Li Daxia's matters are Shaolin's matters. Anytime is convenient!"
"May I ask your name?"
"An Ziyang."
"Mr. An, since you are a friend of Li Daxia, how can my Shaolin treat you lightly? Please follow me inside."
With that, the Attendant Monk reached out and grasped An Ziyang's wrist, enthusiastically leading him into the temple.
An Ziyang had a sense of déjà vu.
When he visited brothels, the madams would also drag him like this.
But this was Shaolin, and the one dragging him was a monk!
No matter how benevolent Shaolin monks were, when facing people from the martial arts world, there would still be an unconscious hint of arrogance in their bones.
For someone like him, who was so debauched he had kidney deficiency, even monks from ordinary temples might not give him a good look. To be so enthusiastically welcomed into Shaolin truly made him feel a similar apprehension to his first experience with carnal matters back then.
Entering the temple, An Ziyang looked around and couldn't help but sigh softly.
Shaolin had indeed suffered a great calamity; ruins and broken walls were everywhere, and reconstruction was currently underway with a clanging and banging sound.
The Attendant Monk led An Ziyang halfway when a deep voice came from the side.
"Hengshu, who is this Benefactor? Where are you going?"
As he spoke, a tall monk walked over, neatly dressed and meticulous, broad-shouldered and serious-faced, with two nasolabial folds outlining his strong jaw.
An Ziyang recognized him at a glance: this person was Hengchang, the Head of Shaolin's Disciplinary Hall.
"This is bad. This person is the most serious and rigid, and also the most loyal to Shaolin. If he finds out that Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards) sent someone to find the new abbot, I'm afraid it will cause trouble!"
The Attendant Monk, however, smiled and said.
"Head, this Benefactor An is a friend of Li Daxia and has come to see the abbot."
"Li Daxia?" Hengchang asked in surprise.
"Where is he now? Why didn't he come himself? Is he in trouble...?"
The Attendant Monk smiled: "Head, I've already asked those questions. Li Daxia is just tied up with matters."
"So."
Hengchang nodded: "You go on with your work. The abbot is currently in the Scripture Depository in the back mountain; you can't enter there. Since he is a friend of Li Daxia, I will take him."
The Attendant Monk nodded, then turned and left.
"Benefactor An, please follow me."
——————
Shaolin, Scripture Depository.
Yongjie sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his face now covered in cold sweat, his body trembling.
He had endured being "reformed" by Li Miao that day, but now he was in a sorry state, as if undergoing unimaginable torture.
An old monk turned from beside a bookshelf, holding a tattered broom in his hand, sweeping as he walked behind Yongjie.
"Still not working."
"Although my Shaolin's Dharma does not strictly require severing worldly ties, when practicing, it still requires tranquility. How can you practice when your mind is in such a chaotic state?"
Yongjie suddenly opened his eyes, panting, large beads of sweat dripping continuously.
After a long while, he gritted his teeth and spoke.
"Unwillingness, confusion, indignation, the five aggregates are blazing... This disciple truly finds it difficult to resolve."
The old monk shook his head.
"Our Buddhist martial arts are most prone to demonic possession, so from shallow to deep, one must have corresponding scriptural attainment before being able to cultivate them. Your way of cultivating is simply like rushing headlong into demonic deviation."
He sighed deeply.
"Alright, tell me whatever you want to ask."
Yongjie suddenly turned his head to look at the old monk, as if hesitating. But after a long while, he still gritted his teeth and asked urgently.
"When the Ming Cult attacked the mountain gate that day, why did you not act?"
"With you there... why did my master have to exhaust the temple's foundation, burn himself out, and pass away?"
The old monk replied indifferently.
"Because I dared not."
"Dared not!?" Yongjie was shocked.
"You... dared not fight Ji Tianrui? So... you watched my master die!?"
"No."
The old monk waved his hand.
"I am not afraid of Ji Tianrui, and my Shaolin is not afraid of the Ming Cult."
"But..."
He raised his hand and pointed to the sky.
"The Ming Cult only wanted a few things, not to destroy my mountain temple."
"Xing Chi didn't have to die, but he couldn't bear to see my Shaolin disciples die and suffer, so he forcefully used his own life to allow more of my Shaolin disciples to survive."
"He was also an infatuated one."
At this point, the old monk sighed deeply.
"I am a person who must exist, yet should not exist."
"If I had acted and been seen, my Shaolin would truly have faced utter destruction."