Within the Shaolin Temple, in a quiet chamber, Kong Wen sat cross-legged with eyes closed. His two long white eyebrows extended down his cheeks and drooped. His mind was still pondering the mysterious Dharmakaya he had encountered earlier.
Who exactly was that person, where did he come from, and why did he have absolutely no impression of him?
He had attained the Arhat Golden Body over a hundred years ago, witnessing numerous rising stars achieving Dharmakaya, observing many talented juniors encountering obstacles and stagnating. He had traveled to the Eastern Sea, practiced austerities in the Western Regions, sighed at the Southern Wilderness, measured the furthest Northern reaches, and roamed through heaven and earth searching for other worlds with sentient beings. Yet never had the image of the man in the green robe and the woman in the pale yellow garment appeared in his mind.
Unless these two had never walked the martial world, or were ancient monsters who had vanished from the world before he passed through the Lane of Bronze Men?
Could they be from a hidden sect, like the Lanke Temple, which had been absent for decades without a trace?
Thinking of Lanke Temple caused a tremor in Kong Wen’s heart. Not only had he encountered it during his youth, but after attaining the Golden Body, he often saw this Pure Land while roaming through the realms. Yet after the great upheaval forty years ago, Lanke Temple had vanished completely. According to the nature of a Sambhogakaya Pure Land, it shouldn’t have disappeared without reason unless it was utterly destroyed or something else had occurred. Other remaining ruined Pure Lands had also vanished without explanation.
Connecting this with the mysterious dissipation of the temple’s supreme martial arts transmission and the strange events forty years ago, the answer seemed to emerge, yet he couldn’t pierce through the fog. It felt as if he had forgotten something. But one thing was certain—the truth must be terrifying, enough to shatter one’s mind and spirit.
“Namo Amitabha Buddha,” murmured Kong Wen softly, deciding to roam again. He suspected the mysterious Dharmakaya earlier might have originated from the mysteriously vanished Pure Land or cave heaven, perhaps they had reappeared in the world!
If he still found nothing, he would return to the temple and search through the martial arts records of previous generations, to see whether they were ancient monsters who had eluded the decay of time.
His body turned transparent, glowing golden like glass, as his consciousness awakened and soared freely between heaven and earth.
…
Outside the Hall of Great Hero, several novice monks carrying brooms and other cleaning tools held their breath and pushed open the half-closed door, intending to clean the area.
As the door opened, they saw two glazed lamps quietly burning before the Buddha, casting a faint glow. The golden statue of the Buddha sat in solemn majesty, exuding compassion and mercy, with his right middle finger and thumb gently holding a petal of the Bodhi flower.
Before the lamps stood a figure clad in a green robe, wearing a fan-shaped cloud crown, his temples lightly streaked with white. His hands were clasped behind his back as he basked in the warm lamplight, tilting his head slightly to contemplate the Buddha statue, appearing at ease and content.
Beside him stood a woman dressed in pale yellow robes, her silhouette softly illuminated in the dim light. Her beauty was understated, and her demeanor carried a quiet serenity.
Someone was in the Hall of Great Hero!
Someone had silently entered the Hall of Great Hero!
The novice monks, unlike true disciples, were slow to react. It took them a while to regain their senses, stumbling out in panic, some shouting loudly, others searching for nearby elders and abbots.
Soon after, the Shaolin formation was silently activated, and a glimmering, glass-like radiance shimmered in the air. The head of the Dharma Hall, Kong Jian; the head of the Bodhi Hall, Wu Si; the head of the Discipline Hall, Wu Jing, and others arrived first. All were clad in yellow robes and red kasayas, their expressions solemn as they quietly encircled Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei.
Meng Qi remained composed, looking at the familiar abbots and elders, strolling with his hands clasped behind his back, appearing relaxed and natural. Each step he took not only failed to trigger the martial aura the monks had gathered but instead disrupted the rhythm of their internal changes, making it difficult for them to unleash their power, causing them great discomfort.
A few moments later, the abbot Kong Wen, awakened by Xuan Bei, entered the Hall of Great Hero holding a nine-ringed staff. Looking at Meng Qi, he raised one hand in a Buddhist salute and said, “I wonder why the lay devotee has come to Shaolin?”
He had already recognized the mysterious Dharmakaya from earlier but did not accuse him of sneaking in, going straight to the point.
At the same time, from Jiang Zhiwei’s aura and the characteristics of her sword, he preliminarily determined she was from the Xijian Pavilion, but her strength far surpassed Zhou Taichong, the strongest in Xijian Pavilion.
Could she be someone from Xijian Pavilion who had secluded herself for a century or two and successfully emerged?
But the mysterious Dharmakaya didn’t seem like someone from Xijian Pavilion…
Meng Qi smiled faintly, raising his left hand in invitation: “Abbot Kong Wen, let’s switch places. The current arrangement feels a bit reversed between host and guest.”
At that moment, Meng Qi stood before the Buddha statue while Kong Wen stood at the entrance of the hall, making the former seem like the host and the latter the guest.
Seeing Meng Qi’s peaceful demeanor and lack of hostility, Kong Wen raised one hand again in a bow, maintaining his vigilance, and passed Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei.
After switching places, Meng Qi acted as if he were at home, saying casually, “Let’s all sit and talk.”
Without waiting for the Shaolin monks’ permission, he directly sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion in the hall, Jiang Zhiwei following suit.
“Master Meng is indeed at ease, more like a Chan disciple than this old monk,” smiled Kong Wen, sitting down as well. Kong Jian, Wu Si, Wu Jing, Xuan Bei, and others sat in succession, still surrounding Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei in the center.
Meng Qi placed his hands naturally on his knees, smiling as he said, “I’ve heard that Shaolin martial arts are vast and profound, with four major and seventy-two minor supreme techniques. Coincidentally, I pride myself on my broad knowledge and diverse learning. I’ve come specially to seek your guidance.”
The four major techniques included the “Flower-Gazing Palm” from the Tathagata Palm, the Mahavairocana Fist, the True Dream Sutra, and the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic.
So he had come to challenge them… Wu Jing muttered a low hum. Since the founding of Shaolin, there had always been people like him. Other monks shared similar thoughts, except for Xuan Bei, whose face was serious because he knew the opponent was a Dharmakaya, challenging only his grandmaster.
“Amitabha Buddha, the lay devotee has already attained Dharmakaya. This old monk will have to take up the challenge,” said Kong Wen calmly.
Dharmakaya? Already attained Dharmakaya? It was only now that monks like Kong Jian, Wu Si, and Wu Jing realized the opponent’s terror. Although they had sensed his extraordinary presence and found his aura difficult to judge earlier, they hadn’t expected him to be a Dharmakaya cultivator!
When had another Dharmakaya emerged in the world?
Did he have the confidence to defeat the abbot?
Smiling, Meng Qi asked, “Abbot Kong Wen, have you mastered all seventy-two supreme techniques?”
“No,” replied Kong Wen calmly. “The seventy-two supreme techniques are all profound and extensive. Studying just a few can reveal the essence of Chan. Attempting to learn all would inevitably lead to insufficient energy and conflicting principles.”
“But I wish to experience all the techniques,” said Meng Qi, glancing around at the monks. “How about this— I will suppress my power to an equal level, and you esteemed monks can kindly offer your guidance?”
What was he really aiming for? The Shaolin monks had never encountered such a request before. As the head of the Dharma Hall, Kong Jian exchanged a glance with Kong Wen before saying in a low voice, “Amitabha Buddha, then please allow this old monk to borrow the Mahavairocana Finger.”
As his words fell, his ten fingers resting on his knees flicked rapidly, filling the air with a whooshing sound. Countless golden finger winds shot forth from all directions, overwhelming, immense, and supreme, leaving no room for evasion or resistance.
As the finger winds were released, the monks saw the man in the green robe’s fingers on his knees also flicking. A similar whooshing sound erupted, and countless golden finger winds also came from every corner, meeting the attack head-on.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The finger winds collided, sending a whirlwind through the Hall of Great Hero. Meng Qi perfectly and precisely blocked Kong Jian’s Mahavairocana Finger without the slightest deviation.
“Mahavairocana Finger! You also know the Mahavairocana Finger! Where did you learn it?” Wu Jing, the head of the Discipline Hall, shot to his feet, filled with righteous indignation.
He had actually stolen Shaolin’s Mahavairocana Finger!
Instantly, the monks’ gazes toward Meng Qi turned to disdain and hatred.
Smiling faintly, Meng Qi said, “Buddhist martial arts originate from Tathagata. If Bodhidharma could derive supreme techniques from the Tathagata Palm, why can’t I? What I’ve mastered goes far beyond the seventy-two supreme techniques!”
Over time, the Shaolin monks had grown increasingly proud, self-important, and rigid, making them susceptible to temptation. Han Guang’s influence had only exacerbated this, so it was necessary to humble them.
“Then let this humble monk see for himself!” Wu Jing curled the knuckle of his right index finger, which turned a jade-like greenish-red, and struck forward powerfully. A greenish-red illusion of the Naga King Ananta appeared, solidifying a single strike toward Meng Qi, mighty and restrained, specifically targeting defensive martial techniques.
Meng Qi also raised his right hand, curling his index finger knuckle into the same jade-like hue and struck. With a crack, he hit the Naga King Ananta’s illusion on the head, shattering it and sending Wu Jing reeling backward from the backlash, sitting down heavily.
That was indeed the Ananda Finger! In an instant, the senior monks stood up one after another, launching techniques such as the Prajna Palm, the Sumedha Palm, the Formless Finger, and the Deadwood Divine Skill at Meng Qi—each of which was perfectly countered by Meng Qi.
In the end, they sat motionless on their cushions, stunned and unable to believe what they had witnessed.
The man in the green robe had truly mastered all seventy-two supreme techniques!
—Except for techniques like the Self-Sacrifice Formula or the One Reed Crossing the River, which were difficult to demonstrate.
Since the time of Bodhidharma, no one had ever mastered all the supreme techniques at once!
“Amitabha Buddha, the lay devotee has forcibly replicated these techniques through a single Buddhist martial art,” observed Abbot Kong Wen with a cold gaze, discerning the truth. He raised his right hand, pressing his middle and index fingers together as if holding a flower, a serene and pure Chan smile appearing on his face as he flicked his fingers toward Meng Qi.
The Flower-Gazing Finger primarily relied on the state of Zen mind; it couldn’t be replicated simply by sensing its trajectory and manipulating the laws of heaven!
At that moment, he saw the man in the green robe also smiling faintly, but behind him appeared a Bodhi tree simultaneously withering and blooming. One finger pointed to the sky, one touched the ground, instantly transforming into a golden Buddha, filling the heavens and earth.
“In heaven and earth, I alone am honored!”
A powerful voice resounded, as the withering and blooming Bodhi tree shone with crystal-clear purity—both fading and thriving—directly pointing to the heart, brimming with the essence of Zen.
Kong Wen seemed to grasp something, wanting to seize this thought, while the other monks were already entranced, immersed in the Buddhist teachings, in the thunderous awakening of “I alone am honored.”
Then, Kong Wen saw the green-robed man with flecked temples slowly rise, clasping his hands behind his back, and leisurely walk out of the Hall of Great Hero, calm and content.
…
The Living Buddha Hutuktu arrived at Shaolin first, one of the enemies Kong Wen valued most.
“Now that my injuries have healed, I have further opportunities to challenge strong foes, defeat them, and accumulate momentum and confidence,” thought Hutuktu as he climbed the steps, his aura concealed, his mind filled with thoughts, brimming with high spirits.
At that moment, he saw a man in a green robe and a woman in pale yellow robes descending from Shaolin, paid them little attention, and passed them by.
After walking a few steps, Hutuktu suddenly felt a stirring in his heart. He turned back and smiled at Jiang Zhiwei: “This old monk has not walked the martial world for many years. I didn’t expect the Xijian Pavilion to have produced such talent. How is Zhou Taichong these days?”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage