The First Master

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"Whether soaring through the air, riding the wind, leaping over eaves and scaling walls, or the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms from the stories, all of it will become reality."

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The pleasant female voice, like music beside his ear, fell silent. Then, one figure after another suddenly appeared before the bewildered and helpless boy: an uninhibited swordsman in white, a forthright youth bare-armed and holding a long green bamboo staff, a grim general clad in armor and gripping a spear. They appeared one by one before him, each bearing an extraordinary presence.

Such an almost mythical scene unfolding before him left his mind blank. In his still-short life, he had never encountered anything so unbelievable. Questions rose one after another in his heart, yet he understood that he apparently had to choose one now. His gaze swept across those immortal-like figures before instinctively settling upon the image most familiar to him—

A youth in a gray robe, stern-browed and grave-eyed, his shaved head without a trace of dark hair. He held a blackwood staff, and the muscles beneath his loose clothing were so massive that the fabric could barely contain them, stretched taut and bulging. As the boy made his choice, a series of helpless sighs seemed to rise in the air.

Everything around them—the white-clad swordsman, the forthright youth—vanished completely. The gray-robed youth gradually solidified before him, slowly opening clear, tranquil eyes. Peace filled his features as he raised his left hand before his chest and said slowly,

"Amitabha..."

With that long sigh, everything before them collapsed. The immortal realm vanished, and an elegant green mountain rose from the earth instead. Leisurely white clouds drifted around it, and bells rang in the distance. The boy found himself standing on a mountain path. Not far away, solemn buildings could be seen hidden among the forest. While he stared in utter disbelief, someone took his hand. Turning his head, he saw the gray-robed youth at his right, holding his staff in his right hand and gazing at Green Mountain as he said calmly,

"When I met you at the foot of the mountain, it was fate. Since you long to roam the martial world, why not follow me up the mountain? Shaolin is a great sect of martial arts under heaven, where Chan and martial arts become one. If you enter its gates, you may learn a body full of skills and act chivalrously throughout the world."

"No... sir, I still have to return to the village. I haven't fed the pigs at Master of the Martial Arts School's house today. I can't delay."

The boy looked at the youth, who gave him a strange sense of familiarity, scratched his head, and stressed, "Besides, we only just met. I don't even know your name."

"You do not wish to learn martial arts?"

The youth glanced at him calmly and asked according to his programmed settings. The boy froze, then answered honestly, "I do, but Master of the Martial Arts School has never taught me."

"Then which do you think is more important: practicing martial arts or feeding pigs?"

The youth before him possessed a peaceful, kindly bearing. Without realizing it, the boy let down much of his guard. Scratching his head, he said embarrassedly, "Feeding pigs, I guess..."

"Why?"

The youth's voice remained gentle, yet his feet had already guided the boy upward. The latter seemed entirely unaware and answered earnestly, "Because I promised to feed Master of the Martial Arts School's pigs for a year."

"Is that all?"

"If you promise something, you have to do it, and do it well." The boy paused, then added shyly, "That's what my father taught me, and I think he was right."

The youth nodded slightly, fell silent for a moment, then said, "Your father taught you well."

"So, sir, let me go back... I only touched that strange wristguard, and somehow I ended up here. As for meeting at the foot of the mountain? We really only just met, didn't we... I don't want to enter any martial world either."

An imperceptible stream of data flashed through the youth's eyes. In the next instant, they were clear once more as he asked slowly, "If you do not enter the martial world, then what do you wish to do?"

A flush rose on the boy's dark face. He lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head and said with hopeful anticipation, "I-I want to learn some trade in the village, save enough money to buy one male and one female piglet, then raise them big and let them have lots more piglets. After selling them, I'll go... go... propose marriage at A Lian's house next door..."

"A Lian?"

The youth seemed to ask out of curiosity. The boy lowered his head and mumbled for a long while before saying with a red face, "She's a very pretty girl. I... Master of the Martial Arts School said she has a pretty face and a fine figure, suitable for marrying as a wife..."

A wife?

A chaotic flood of data suddenly surged through the youth's clear eyes, followed by a flash of rainbow light. He stopped walking and said gravely,

"Those who have left home must not fall into love and desire. Shaolin disciples must especially not speak of love."

"?? Why? Master of the Martial Arts School said that was something every man must have..."

The boy had not finished speaking when the youth turned toward him and looked at him seriously. Streams of data flashed through his pupils as he selected an answer suitable for a thirteen-year-old boy from an enormous database:

"Because women at the foot of the mountain are tigers."

"Tigers?"

The boy froze. No matter how he tried, he could not connect the adorable A Lian with terrifying wild beasts. Yet the youth had already pulled him onward up the mountain, saying peacefully,

"It is also because all appearances are empty. Do you love her for her lovely appearance? But beauty like flowers and the moon vanishes in the blink of an eye. If she became a white-haired old woman, could you still love her?"

The boy could not answer, while the youth continued,

"Form is emptiness, and emptiness is form. All things under heaven are empty. Why, then, must you cling to such illusory things?"

"Empty?"

The boy scratched his head in deep confusion. As he was led up the mountain, he curiously asked the youth with flowing sleeves and tranquil features,

"But if everything is empty, then liking someone is empty, and not liking someone is empty too, isn't it? What difference is there between the two..."

"If both sides are empty as empty can be, then isn't the thought of pursuing this so-called emptiness also empty? If everything is empty, what meaning is left?"

"Could it be that emptiness itself is empty too?"

The youth's steps halted, and his body grew somewhat stiff. Vast streams of blue data filled his eyes. Yet as a game NPC, he had very little data stored on Buddhist thought. After searching for a moment, he used the system's logic to skirt around the question and said slowly, "...What is your name?"

"...My name is Wang Anfeng." The boy scratched his head and smiled honestly. "My father said that back then, a wisp of wind came from the east and settled peacefully in the village, and then I was born... My parents thought I was that wind reborn, so they named me Anfeng..."

"Good... Anfeng."

The youth murmured the name twice, then raised his staff and lightly tapped it,

"Shaolin has arrived..."

Creak—

A thousand-year-old ancient temple opened in a single day. The heavy, archaic mountain gates slowly parted, and another world unfurled before Wang Anfeng like a painted scroll, making the boy's eyes widen instinctively as strange light flowed within them.