Meng Qi had originally been troubled by the lack of opportunity to leave the lay servant hall when suddenly someone told him he would be able to report to the martial arts monks’ hall the next day. It was just like walking down the road and suddenly being hit by a pie falling from the sky—leaving him dizzy, stunned, and filled with both surprise and joy, though surprise far outweighed joy. For a moment, his expression froze and he forgot how to respond.
Xuan Chi was not surprised by Meng Qi’s reaction. In a deep yet low voice, he said, “Zhang Yuanshan from the Zhenwu Sect and Jiang Zhiwei from the Sword-Washing Pavilion both praised you to the reception senior brother for your etiquette, your understanding of when to advance or retreat, your refined speech, and your ability to restrain yourself. It’s rare for lay devotees from other sects to praise our Shaolin lay servant monks, so we’ve decided to let you enter the martial arts monks’ hall to train your martial skills and eventually serve as a reception monk.”
As a reception monk from a major martial arts sect, one must at least possess a certain level of martial skill to maintain dignity.
“I, the disciple, merely tried my best to restrain myself,” Meng Qi finally understood what had happened. While secretly grateful to Zhang Yuanshan and Jiang Zhiwei for their help, he fully expressed the joy in his heart.
“As a reception monk, restraining oneself, avoiding rash anger, and not losing face for the sect is of utmost importance,” Xuan Chi replied indifferently to Meng Qi, then turned and left. His gait was proud and majestic, like a hero who had roamed the martial arts world for years rather than a monk.
Xuan Ku looked deeply at Meng Qi and said indifferently, “Once you enter the martial arts monks’ hall, all scheming thoughts are useless. Only by comprehending Buddhist principles, keeping a calm and steady mind, not rushing or becoming discouraged, and diligently cultivating can one walk the right path. In this regard, Zhen Hui is better than you.”
Meng Qi understood the implication behind his words—that Xuan Ku suspected he had flattered guests like Zhang Yuanshan and Jiang Zhiwei to escape the lay servant hall, ultimately revealing excessive scheming.
“Can one assume something exists or not without personally witnessing it? Master Xuan Ku, once a fixation arises, it is like falling into an endless hell,” Meng Qi had never been the kind of person to accept false accusations. If there were no other concerns, he would argue when he was in the right.
He initially intended to respond by quoting Buddhist scriptures, but over the past six months, he had only progressed to learning written language and Sanskrit, memorizing morning prayers and minor mantras, without yet delving into the sutras. Consequently, he could only counter in the manner most familiar to him.
Finally, Meng Qi deliberately assumed a solemn expression and clasped his hands together: “Namo Amitabha.”
“You!” Xuan Ku’s eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting Meng Qi to sarcastically criticize him, and finding his words logically sound, he didn’t know where to begin refuting.
“If you lack Buddhist cultivation and only seek to excel in verbal sparring, you will certainly be expelled from Shaolin in the future,” Xuan Ku replied coldly, turned around, and left. If not for your eloquence and painstaking efforts to please guests from various sects, why would they speak for you, a mere lay servant monk? In this world, there is no effect without a cause!
Ah, Master Xuan Ku is upright to the point of being rigid; he might easily fall into the demonic path in the future…Meng Qi secretly savored his verbal victory, while Xuan Ku walked quickly and had already vanished from the square.
At this moment, Zhen Hui tightly gripped the broom and looked at Meng Qi in confusion: “Senior Brother, are we really going to the martial arts monks’ hall?”
“Of course, you’re just realizing this now?” Meng Qi was astonished. He had already spoken with Xuan Chi and Xuan Ku for quite some time; such a slow reaction was almost unbelievable.
Zhen Hui smiled innocently and naively: “This brings us one step closer to the ‘Buddha Palm’!”
Spitting out his saliva in disbelief, Meng Qi had to admit he couldn’t keep up with this fool’s thinking.
However, he quickly became excited and cheerfully said to Zhen Hui, “The ‘Buddha Palm’ is still too far off. Once we complete the Qi Accumulation stage in the martial arts monks’ hall, we can learn the Seventy-Two Marvelous Techniques. At that time, I definitely want to master the ‘Flower-Picking Finger,’ ‘Invisible Finger,’ and ‘One Reed Crossing the River’!”
“Why those?” Zhen Hui looked at Meng Qi in confusion, not understanding why he insisted on choosing these martial arts techniques.
Meng Qi spoke with great enthusiasm: “Because these techniques are so elegant and graceful! In the future…”
He originally wanted to say something about flowing white robes and a sword flashing like lightning, but immediately remembered he was in Shaolin Temple, so he slightly modified his “imagined future”:
“Little junior apprentice, haven’t I told you the story of the monk Wu Hua before? A monk must reach such a level. Just imagine, in the future, standing on a small boat, wearing white robes as pure as snow, smiling while holding a flower—how noble and graceful, how elegant and heroic! Haha, when you meet someone you dislike, you can even say to him, ‘Lay devotee, the sea of suffering is boundless; turn back before it’s too late.'”
He spoke with increasing enthusiasm, but suddenly remembered the “Iron Shirt” and “Five Tigers Severing the Gate” techniques, his expression immediately darkened, and his excitement slightly diminished.
“No worries, those are just temporary measures. The future will definitely not develop like that…” Meng Qi quietly comforted himself with these words, his enthusiasm rising again. Just as he was about to continue speaking, Zhen Yan suddenly interrupted beside him:
“Congratulations, Junior Brothers Zhen Ding and Zhen Hui, on escaping this endless sea of suffering in the lay servant hall. However, this senior brother must remind you: the martial monks’ hall is not a paradise either. After completing the Qi Accumulation stage, only disciples chosen by the masters can learn the Seventy-Two Marvelous Techniques, while the rest remain in the martial monks’ hall, continuing to practice the ‘Dragon-Subduing Staff Technique’ as members of the Arhat Formation. Therefore, you must not be careless at all.”
He wore a smile on his face, but Meng Qi felt it was forced, and his words carried an unmistakable hint of cold water being poured on their excitement.
“Thank you, senior brother, for reminding us,” Meng Qi fully understood Zhen Yan’s current feelings. If he were in his place, having endured more than three years of lay servant life, desperately longing to enter the martial monks’ hall without success, while new junior apprentices suddenly escaped this sea of suffering, he would probably smile in a way worse than crying.
Without further conversation, the three returned to the lay servant hall amid Zhen Hui’s occasional foolish smiles.
Meng Qi knew that everyone around him was pitiful souls like Zhen Yan and Zhen Ying, so he refrained from showing off to avoid hurting their feelings.
At dinner, Meng Qi specifically reminded Zhenhui not to speak carelessly.
Clapping sounds came from the doorway just as Meng Qi was happily chewing meat.
Turning his head, Meng Qi saw Monk Xuan Xin walking in, clapping his hands with a bright smile: “It’s not easy! Our lay servant hall has finally had two disciples selected for the martial monks’ hall today!”
The sound of wooden chopsticks falling onto the long table or the ground echoed continuously. Except for Meng Qi, Zhen Hui, and Zhen Yan, all other lay servant monks froze like time had stopped. An eerie silence filled the dining hall.
“Zhen Ding, Zhen Hui, won’t you say something?”
With Xuan Xin’s words, the frozen lay servant monks came back to life, turning their heads to look at Meng Qi and Zhen Hui. Their eyes, dark and unreadable, made Meng Qi feel rather uneasy.
“It’s all thanks to Senior Master Xuan Xin for assigning me to clean the Chan Xin Hall,” Meng Qi knew the truth couldn’t be hidden from Xuan Xin, so he deliberately said this.
Xuan Xin chuckled: “It’s also because you are quick-witted and eloquent. I know you love hearing martial arts stories. Don’t forget this place in the future. Hey, why are you all staring at Zhen Ding and Zhen Hui? Why don’t you congratulate them?”
One lay servant monk slowly stood up, his smile more painful than crying: “Congratulations, Junior Brothers Zhen Ding and Zhen Hui, on becoming martial monks.”
“Congratulations, Junior Brothers Zhen Ding and Zhen Hui, on becoming martial monks.” The other lay servant monks also stood up, their voices echoing in the hall. Some sounded self-pitying, some bitter, some resentful, some sorrowful, some envious, some jealous—so many emotions, too numerous to mention.
Meng Qi sighed softly: “Junior brother was just blessed by the Buddha. As long as you seniors keep your faith sincerely, you will surely receive the same reward in the future.”
“As long as you seniors focus on cleaning, eating, and sleeping, you will definitely enter the martial monks’ hall,” Zhen Hui said foolishly.
Meng Qi knew this was indeed the right method, but judging from the expressions of those lay servant monks, there were smirks, hatred, but absolutely no sign of belief. If they didn’t know Zhen Hui was honest to the point of seeming dull, they might even think he was mocking them.
Clasping his hands together and chanting “Amitabha,” Meng Qi pulled Zhen Hui to sit down and continued eating silently. The dinner ended in an indescribable silence, and Xuan Xin’s storytelling also began in this atmosphere.
“Junior Brothers Zhen Ding and Zhen Hui, this senior brother always knew you were not ordinary people. When you reach the martial monks’ hall, remember to take care of each other,” Zhen Yong, who always came to listen, said cheerfully.
Meng Qi was quite familiar with him and straightforwardly said, “Senior Brother Zhen Yong, please continue to take care of us juniors.”
Zhen Yong laughed: “The brothers in the martial monks’ hall actually all love hearing martial arts stories, but unlike me, they’re too shy to ask directly. They just wait for me to go back and retell them, so I have a bit of influence there, hehe. As long as you often tell such stories, they won’t make things difficult for you.”
“This happens to be my strength,” Meng Qi nodded lightly, and Zhen Hui also nodded vigorously, “I also know many stories!”
Monk Xuan Xin coughed, stopping the whispers below: “Today’s event of seeing off disciples from various sects should not be taken to heart. This is merely our Shaolin’s emphasis on etiquette, not because we truly fear them. Just think, the Great Jin has only three Dharma Body cultivators, and Shaolin alone accounts for one of them. Which other sect can rival us?”
“Do you know what the most sensational event in the martial arts world was in the past decade?”
This monk truly exuded Shaolin pride and looked down on other sects… Meng Qi secretly shook his head and loudly replied, “We don’t know, please Senior Master Xuan Xin tell us.”
The other lay servant monks also listlessly echoed their ignorance.
Xuan Xin paid no heed to their reactions and continued proudly, “Decades ago, the Heaven-Annihilating Gate, one of the Nine Evil Paths, produced a peerless genius. Before the age of fifty, he cultivated his demonic body, rivaling even the Demon Emperor of the mythical era. His name was Han Guang, who styled himself the ‘Demon Sage.’ He terrorized the martial world, commanding obedience from all left-wing sects. However, the Demon Sage committed too many atrocities and ultimately met his retribution. Less than a year after forming his demonic body, his hiding place was exposed, and he was intercepted by the Abbot.”
“The battle nine years ago, tsk tsk, split the earth and shattered mountains, darkened the heavens and blackened the earth. A large lake also appeared in the central part of the Taiyue Mountains, and only the Abbot emerged alive. It is rumored that the Demon Sage was killed or sealed by him.”
“After this battle, our Shaolin’s reputation completely overshadowed other sects!”
Monk Xuan Xin continued to boast about the glorious histories of various senior monks, making Meng Qi and the others feel their blood boiling with excitement, wishing they could take their places.
When would they ever attain such mountain-moving, sea-traversing abilities!
After listening to Xuan Xin’s storytelling, returning to the meditation room, Zhen Guan and Zhen Ying immediately fell asleep, ignoring Meng Qi and Zhen Hui completely. Zhen Hui, after a brief meditation session, also quickly fell asleep.
Meng Qi practiced the “Iron Shirt Technique” once, tossing and turning for a long time before finally calming his excitement and falling asleep, slightly envying Zhen Hui’s simple thoughts and few distractions.
In the heavy darkness, Meng Qi felt his breathing becoming increasingly difficult, as if his body were being pressed under thick layers of earth.
“Sleep paralysis?” Meng Qi had a slight awareness in his dream, struggling to wake up, only to see a twisted, hideous face.
Zhen Guan’s hands were tightly gripping Meng Qi’s neck, his body pressing him down, making him unable to move. His eyes were fierce, and his voice sounded like a dream:
“Kill you, kill you!”
“You stole my chance to enter the martial monks’ hall!”
“I can’t enter, so no one can!”
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