Reality and Illusion

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After that, the two spoke little. Wang Anfeng thought about saving wicked men, then his mind drifted back to the trivial matters of the village—feeding pigs for the Master of the Martial Arts School when he returned, and Old Li living alone. It had already been three days since his last visit. He wanted to mention it to Yuan Ci, yet the latter always brushed it aside as though it were nothing, leaving him feeling stifled.

Not until they entered a side hall did they stop. Within stood a statue of a wrathful Buddhist guardian clad in armor, eyes wide with fury and imposing majesty. Young monks practiced martial arts on either side. Yuan Ci chose a quieter prayer cushion and had Wang Anfeng sit upon it. Then he took a thin book from his robes and spoke gently.

"You have only just entered Shaolin and have no foundation in martial arts. I have a technique here, the One Zen Skill, the foundational entry skill of my lineage. Learn it first..."

"One Zen Skill?"

Wang Anfeng froze for a moment and instinctively accepted the book. Yet the instant it touched his palm, the yellowed volume transformed into a hazy ball of soft light and flowed into his body. It gave him such a fright that he nearly leaped to his feet. At that very moment, Yuan Ci's hand pressed lightly against his shoulder as he barked solemnly,

"Calm your heart, focus your mind!"

The stern shout was like a morning bell and an evening drum. Wang Anfeng's body trembled slightly, and all distracting thoughts vanished from his mind. In an instant, his heart became clear and bright. Once he settled down, faint yet distinct streams of air emerged within his body, slowly circulating along an unusual path. Warmth spread through his entire body. Yuan Ci's deep chanting sounded beside his ear, and his consciousness gradually relaxed, as though he had fallen into a river and was drifting onward with its current.

"All dharmas are equal, without high or low. This is called Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi..."

"With no self, no person, no living being, and no lifespan, cultivate all wholesome dharmas, and one shall attain Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi..."

The tranquil chanting continued by his ear, neither hurried nor slow. Only when the barely perceptible currents had grown stronger, and a thread of warmth rose in his heart before sinking into his Dantian, did his body shudder and his eyes slowly open. His gaze was gentle and peaceful. Before him lay a quiet night, bright moonlight scattered across the courtyard.

"This... this is..."

Wang Anfeng stared blankly at the night ahead, still unable to understand why merely closing his eyes had changed the whole world around him.

"You're awake..."

The familiar chanting by his ear came to an abrupt stop, replaced by Yuan Ci's calm voice. He looked at the youth before him with some satisfaction, raised a hand to smooth Wang Anfeng's hair, and smiled.

"To enter meditation for more than four hours on your first attempt—you have already passed the threshold and learned the first level of the One Zen Skill. Your aptitude is good, but do not become puffed up with pride."

"Four hours? You... Master Yuan Ci, you've been..."

Wang Anfeng's eyes widened as he looked at the young man's calm, smiling face, at the changed sky outside, and thought of those four hours. He was no fool. At once, he understood that this Uncle Yuan Ci, whom he had only met for the first time today, had guarded him throughout those four hours. The cold dew outside had grown heavy, while the great hall had long since emptied of everyone but the two of them. His expression shifted slightly.

Taking a deep breath, the youth rose and solemnly straightened his clothes. Then, following the rite his father had described for paying respect to a true master who imparted knowledge, he knelt before Yuan Ci and performed three bows and nine kowtows.

"Your disciple, Wang Anfeng, pays respects to Master."

A stream of data flickered through Yuan Ci's eyes. As a product of the system's design, he could not develop emotions. Even his personality had not been prearranged; after losing contact with the main server, he could only analyze and process matters according to the original database. Yet at this moment, he sensed that his program's operating pattern had somehow strayed from its fixed course and subtly accelerated. A smile appeared at the corner of his lips. He raised Wang Anfeng to his feet and teased him,

"You agreed to it so casually before. Why make such a grand ceremony of it now?"

Wang Anfeng rose and answered seriously,

"A teacher for a day is a father for life."

"One has only one father, and a master cannot be acknowledged so casually either."

"And now you can?"

The youth nodded. "Uncle Li said that whether one roams the martial world, stands in the imperial court, or scrapes out a living in a small mountain village, it is all the same. Listen to what people say and watch what they do, then make your judgment. A true man cannot be wishy-washy, but neither can he be foolish enough to believe everything others say."

A look of unmistakable astonishment appeared on Yuan Ci's gentle face. Then he burst into laughter, his features opening up as his former serenity transformed into the openhearted, unrestrained bearing of a wandering hero. He clapped his hands repeatedly and laughed.

"Hahaha, well said, well said! Listen to what they say and watch what they do—well said, truly well said!"

"Your aptitude is passable, and your nature suits my taste as well. You are meant to be my disciple!"

"Remember to cultivate the One Zen Skill internally every day without pause. Here are ten Qi Gathering Pills. Take them separately during today's cultivation and refine them all. They should give your training a helping hand."

After the laughter subsided, Yuan Ci still wore a smile. He reached into his robes, took out a thick porcelain bottle with a narrow neck, and tossed it straight to Wang Anfeng. The latter did not stand on ceremony and simply tucked it into his robes.

A gift from an elder must not be refused; to refuse it would be discourteous. Wang Anfeng copied Yuan Ci and the other monks, pressing one palm upright before his chest as he thanked him.

"Thank you, Master..."

"Ding—Player online time has reached ten hours in the game world."

"According to the Virtual Game Anti-Addiction Law, minors under thirteen may remain online for a maximum of one Earth hour per day. You will now be forcibly disconnected from the game. Please go outdoors, breathe fresh air, and exercise."

Along with the crisp, pleasant female voice, the image of his master—calm yet faintly unrestrained—froze at once, then slowly faded away like mist and smoke. The grand and solemn hall vanished with him, as did the brilliant moonlight scattered across the courtyard outside. Wang Anfeng blanked out for a moment. With a blur before his eyes, the Shaolin side hall lit by flickering candles had become a dense forest. He lay flat on the ground, sunlight spilling over his face, so warm that it made him drowsy.

Was that... a dream?

Wang Anfeng pushed himself up with both arms, staring blankly at everything around him. Behind him was the pile of chopped deadwood, neatly split and arranged, without a trace of cold dew upon it. His woodcutter's axe was in his hand, and the surrounding forest was so familiar that he would not mistake it even with his eyes closed.

...It was a dream... Ha, I knew it... I must have become obsessed with learning martial arts...

Even in my dreams, I'm dreaming of taking a master. Shaolin... Shaolin...

The youth spread his arms and let himself fall back onto the ground. He mocked himself a few times, yet his chest was filled with a sense of loss. After all, he was only a boy. To gain something and lose it again left him deeply disappointed. Yet the birds in the forest did not understand how to read the mood, chattering endlessly among the treetops.

Feeling irritated, Wang Anfeng rolled over and sat up. He casually picked up a small stone and, in a fit of pique, threw it at the birds. He had only intended to scatter the noisy flock, but the instant the stone left his hand, a faint warm current suddenly appeared in his arm and surged into his five fingers. The little stone shot forth almost like it had been fired from a slingshot, leaving behind a shrill whistle through the air as it struck the loudest sparrow squarely.

The little bird had no time to react before it plummeted straight down headfirst. The surrounding birds scattered in alarm, yet Wang Anfeng's shock was no less than theirs. He sat where he was, stiff as a wooden post, staring in disbelief at his own hands. Perhaps because his earlier movement had been too great, something fell from his robes, rolled across the ground, and came to a stop by his feet. It was a thick porcelain bottle with a narrow neck, giving off a pungent medicinal fragrance.

This is... the One Zen Skill! Qi Gathering Pills!

Everything... was real?!