Reaction

Meng Qi had been fretting over not finding a chance to escape the Servant Courtyard. Who would have thought he would suddenly be told that he could report to the Warrior Monk Institute tomorrow? It was as if a pie had fallen from the sky and smashed him while he was walking down the road, leaving him dizzy, shocked, and delighted. The shock far outweighed the delight, however, and for a moment, he stared blankly, forgetting how to respond.

Xuan Chi was not surprised by Meng Qi's reaction. His voice was deep and resonant, yet low, as he said, "Zhang Yuanshan of the True Martial Sect and Jiang Zhiwei of Sword Washing Pavilion both praised you to the Senior Brother in charge of guests, saying that you understand etiquette, know when to advance and retreat, speak with uncommon refinement, and are good at restraining yourself. It is rare for benefactors from other sects to praise a menial monk of Shaolin so highly, so they allowed you to enter the Warrior Monk Institute to temper your martial skills and become a guest monk in the future."

As a guest monk of a great martial sect, he needed to have at least a certain level of martial skill, lest he lose face.

"I... I merely did my best to restrain myself." Meng Qi finally understood what had happened. While secretly thanking Zhang Yuanshan and Jiang Zhiwei for their help, he displayed all the joy in his heart.

"As a guest monk, restraining yourself, not rashly giving in to nameless rage, and preserving the sect's dignity are of the utmost importance." Xuan Chi replied indifferently before turning to leave. As he walked, he looked around with pride, striding like a dragon and tiger. He did not resemble a monk at all, but rather a great hero who had roamed the martial world for many years.

Xuanku gave Meng Qi a deep look and said calmly, "Once you enter the Warrior Monk Institute, all schemes will be useless. Only by comprehending Zen principles, calming your mind and spirit, neither rushing nor losing heart, and cultivating diligently will you follow the proper path. In this regard, Zhenhui is better than you."

Meng Qi understood the implication. Xuanku suspected that he had deliberately fawned over Zhang Yuanshan, Jiang Zhiwei, and the other guests to escape the Servant Courtyard. At the root of it all, he still had too many schemes in his heart.

"Can one make a wild guess about something without hearing or seeing it for oneself? Uncle-Master Xuanku, once an obsession arises, one is like falling into a boundless hell." Meng Qi had never been one to let others wrong him without protest. If there was nothing else he needed to consider, he would argue whenever he had reason on his side.

He had originally wanted to cite Buddhist scriptures in reply, but for the past six months or so, he had still been learning written Sanskrit and memorizing the little incantations of the morning service. He had yet to study any scriptures, so for the moment, he could only refute him in the way he knew best.

At the end, Meng Qi even deliberately put on a solemn expression and pressed his palms together. "Namo Amitabha Buddha."

"You!" Xuanku's eyes widened. He clearly had not expected Meng Qi to mock him in return, much less for every word to be reasonable enough to leave him unable to refute it.

"If you lack a Zen mind and merely seek to flaunt your verbal cleverness, you will certainly be expelled from Shaolin in the future." He answered coldly and turned to leave. If you had not sweet-talked and painstakingly fawned over the guests from all the major sects, why would they speak up for a petty menial monk like you? How could there be an effect without a cause in this world?

Ah, Uncle-Master Xuanku was upright to the point of near obstinacy. In the future, he would inevitably fall into the Demonic Path... Meng Qi secretly savored his little verbal victory, but Xuanku moved with astonishing speed and had already vanished from the square.

At this moment, Zhenhui gripped his broom with both hands and looked at Meng Qi in confusion. "Senior Brother, we're going to the Warrior Monk Institute?"

"Of course. You're only realizing it now?" Meng Qi stared at Zhenhui in astonishment. He had already spoken with Xuan Chi and Xuanku for quite some time. This reaction speed was simply horrifying, wasn't it?

Zhenhui revealed an innocent, childish smile. "We are one step closer to Buddha's Palm."

Pfft. Meng Qi spat out his saliva and had to admit that he could not keep up with an idiot's train of thought.

However, he quickly grew spirited again and said enthusiastically to Zhenhui, "Buddha's Palm is far too distant. Once we reach Major Qi Accumulation in the Warrior Monk Institute, we'll be able to come into contact with the Seventy-two Unique Skills. When that time comes, I must learn Nian Hua Finger, Wu Xiang Jie Finger, Yi Wei Crossing River, and other supreme arts!"

"Why?" Zhenhui looked at Meng Qi in confusion, unable to understand why he insisted on choosing those particular martial arts.

Meng Qi's eyes shone as he said, "Because these martial arts are elegant and carefree enough! In the future..."

He had originally wanted to say something about white robes fluttering and a long sword flashing like lightning, but then he remembered that this was Shaolin Temple. Thus, he slightly revised his "imagined future."

"Little Junior Brother, didn't I tell you the story of the monk Wuhua? A monk has to reach that level. Just imagine it—in the future, a little boat drifts across the water, white monk robes gleam like snow, and you stand there smiling as you pluck a flower. What a lofty-master air! How carefree and handsome! Heh heh, when you meet someone you dislike, you can even say to him: 'Benefactor, the Sea of Suffering is boundless. Turn Back is the Shore...'"

The more he spoke, the more excited he became. But then he suddenly thought of Iron Cloth Shirt and Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber, and his expression immediately darkened, his enthusiasm somewhat diminished.

"No matter. This is only a temporary expedient. Things definitely won't develop this way in the future..." Meng Qi quietly consoled himself, and his spirits rose again. But just as he was about to continue elaborating, Zhen Yan suddenly cut in from the side.

"Congratulations, Junior Brother Zhending and Junior Brother Zhen Hui, on escaping the boundless Sea of Suffering that is the Servant Courtyard. But your senior brother must remind you of one thing: the Warrior Monk Institute is no Pure Land of Bliss either. After reaching Major Qi Accumulation, only disciples chosen by the various uncles and elder brothers will be able to learn the Seventy-two Unique Skills. The rest of the monks will remain in the Warrior Monk Institute and continue arduously practicing Dragon Subduing Staff Technique as members of the Arhat Great Formation, so you must never be careless."

He wore a smile, but Meng Qi felt it was extremely forced. His words carried the sour taste of someone throwing cold water on their excitement.

"Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother." Meng Qi could fully understand Zhen Yan's mood. If he had spent more than three years as a menial monk, yearning day and night to enter the Warrior Monk Institute but failing to do so, only to see newly initiated junior brothers beside him suddenly escape the Sea of Suffering, he would probably have looked worse than if he were crying.

The three of them returned to the Servant Courtyard in silence, apart from Zhenhui's occasional foolish chuckles.

Meng Qi knew that those around him were all pitiful people like Zhen Yan and Zhen Ying, so he no longer flaunted his good fortune, lest he provoke them.

When it was time for the evening meal, Meng Qi even took special care to remind Zhenhui not to speak carelessly.

Clap, clap, clap. Just as Meng Qi was eating meat with great relish, a round of applause came from the doorway.

Meng Qi turned his head and happened to see the monk Xuan Xin entering. He clapped with a radiant smile. "How difficult it is! How difficult it is for our Servant Courtyard! Today, at last, two disciples have been chosen to enter the Warrior Monk Institute!"

Clatter, clatter, clatter. The sounds of wooden chopsticks falling onto the long tables and floor rang out one after another. Every menial monk except Meng Qi, Zhenhui, and Zhen Yan froze in place as if time itself had solidified. An eerie silence descended over the dining hall.

"Zhending, Zhenhui, don't you have anything to say?"

With Xuan Xin's words, the menial monks who had turned into statues all came back to life. They turned toward Meng Qi and Zhenhui one after another, their pairs of eyes dark and unreadable. Their gazes made Meng Qi feel a little nervous and alarmed.

"It was all thanks to Uncle-Master Xuan Xin arranging for me to clean Chan Xin Courtyard." Meng Qi knew there was no hiding the reason from Xuan Xin, so he deliberately put it that way.

Xuan Xin chuckled. "It was also because you are alert, gifted with words, and fond of hearing stories of the martial world. Don't forget this place in the future. Ah, what are you all staring at Zhending and Zhenhui for? Hurry up and congratulate them."

A menial monk slowly rose to his feet and said with a smile more painful than tears, "Congratulations, Junior Brother Zhending and Junior Brother Zhen Hui, on becoming warrior monks."

"Congratulations, Junior Brother Zhending and Junior Brother Zhen Hui, on becoming warrior monks." The other menial monks rose as well and followed suit. Different voices echoed through the dining hall—some self-pitying, some bitter, some resentful, some pained, some envious, and some jealous. Every emotion was present.

Meng Qi sighed softly. "This junior brother merely received the Buddha's blessing. All of you senior brothers sincerely worship Buddha; you will receive such blessings in the future as well."

"As long as all of you senior brothers focus on sweeping, focus on eating, and focus on sleeping, you can definitely enter the Warrior Monk Institute too," Zhenhui said foolishly.

Meng Qi knew that this was indeed the true method. But looking at the expressions of the menial monks—some sneering, some hateful—he saw that none of them believed it at all. If they had not known that Zhenhui was honest and dull-witted by nature, they might even have thought he was mocking them.

Pressing his palms together and reciting a Buddhist invocation, Meng Qi pulled Zhenhui down to sit. He lowered his head and ate ravenously. The evening meal ended in an atmosphere of indescribable silence, and Xuan Xin's "storytelling" began amid that same mood.

"Junior Brother Zhending, Junior Brother Zhen Hui, your senior brother knew that you two were no ordinary pond fish. Once you reach the Warrior Monk Institute, remember to look after each other." Zhen Yong, who had come over to listen as usual, said with a grin.

Meng Qi was fairly familiar with him by now and replied without ceremony, "Senior Brother Zhen Yong, we'll be counting on you to look after us too."

Zhen Yong smiled. "The senior and junior brothers at the Warrior Monk Institute actually all enjoy hearing stories of the martial world. But unlike me, they are too embarrassed to lower themselves to ask for them. They simply wait for me to return and retell them. So your senior brother has a little standing at the Warrior Monk Institute. Heh heh, as long as you often tell stories of that sort, they won't make things difficult for you."

"That happens to be my strong suit." Meng Qi nodded lightly. Zhenhui also nodded vigorously. "I know lots of stories too!"

Xuan Xin coughed, silencing the whispers below. "You must not take today's farewell to the various major sects to heart. It merely shows that our Shaolin values etiquette; it does not mean that we truly fear them. Think about it. Great Jin has only three Dharma Body Masters, and our Shaolin possesses one of them. Which of the other sects can stand against us?"

"Do you know what the most earth-shaking event in the martial world over the past ten years was?"

This monk certainly had quite a sense of Shaolin pride. He looked down on the other sects so much... Meng Qi secretly shook his head and called out, "We do not know. Please enlighten us, Uncle-Master Xuan Xin."

The other menial monks also answered that they did not know, their voices listless.

Xuan Xin did not care about their state and continued proudly. "Several decades ago, the Heaven Destroying Gate of the Nine Demonic Paths produced an unparalleled genius. Before he was fifty, he had condensed a demonic body, coming close to rivaling the demon emperors of the Mythological Era. His surname was Han and his given name was Guang. He called himself the 'Demon Master,' shook the martial world, and all the heretical paths dared not disobey him. But the Demon Master had committed too many evils and eventually suffered the consequences. Less than a year after condensing his demonic body, his whereabouts were exposed, and the Abbot intercepted him."

"That battle nine years ago—tsk, tsk. The earth split and the mountains collapsed, Heaven and Earth fell into Darkness, and a vast lake even appeared in the center of the Taiyue Mountain Range. Only the Abbot survived and emerged. It was said that the Demon Master had been killed or suppressed by him."

"After that battle, the reputation of our Shaolin completely overshadowed all the other sects!"

Xuan Xin continued boasting about the glorious histories of the eminent monks. Meng Qi and the others listened with their blood surging, wishing they could take the place of those heroes themselves.

Who knew when they would possess such power to move mountains and cross seas?

After listening to Xuan Xin's "storytelling," they returned to the Zen Room. Zhen Guan and Zhen Ying immediately pulled the covers over their heads and went to sleep, ignoring Meng Qi and Zhenhui completely. After meditating for a while, Zhenhui also quickly fell asleep.

Meng Qi practiced the Iron Cloth Shirt mental cultivation method once. Only after tossing and turning for a long while did he suppress his excitement and enter dreamland, somewhat envious of Zhenhui's simple thoughts and scant distracting notions.

The darkness was heavy. Meng Qi felt his breathing growing more and more difficult, while his body seemed to be pinned beneath thick layers of earth.

"Am I being pinned down by a ghost?" Meng Qi possessed only the faintest trace of awareness in his dream. He struggled awake, only to see a twisted, hideous face.

Zhen Guan's hands clutched Meng Qi's neck while his body pressed down on him, leaving him unable to move. His gaze was vicious, yet his voice sounded like a sleepwalker's murmur.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you!"

"You stole my chance to enter the Warrior Monk Institute!"

"If I can't enter, no one can!"