Arhat Fist

"Scripture Depository?" Zhen Yong raised his brows, then grinned, flashing a mouthful of white teeth. "Junior Brother Zhending, the Warrior Monk Institute won't begin fist practice until after noon anyway. Why don't I come with you to the Scripture Depository and help clean? Heh heh, to be honest, I'm curious about the place too."

"But..." Meng Qi worried that this might violate the rules.

Zhen Yong beamed. "Don't worry. Every monk in the temple can freely enter the bottom two floors of the Scripture Depository. I'm just usually too busy. If you don't believe me, go ask Martial Uncle Xuan Xin."

Before his words had even faded, Zhenhui darted into Xuan Xin's Zen Room with a whoosh, leaving Zhen Yong utterly dumbfounded.

Meng Qi gave an awkward laugh. "Zhenhui is just that serious a person."

"As he should be, as he should be." Zhen Yong laughed despite himself.

Over this period, he had often come to the Servant Courtyard to ask Meng Qi about literacy and sentence parsing, and he often helped Meng Qi and Zhenhui with odd jobs as well. He was quite forthright by nature and knew how to talk to people.

"Martial Uncle Xuan Xin said Senior Brother Zhen Yong was right." Zhenhui ran back out and announced loudly.

"Then let's set off." Zhen Yong chuckled.

The Scripture Depository stood atop a cliff in Shaolin Temple's Back Mountain. It was an old, four-story building that stood alone and lofty; even birds flying near it would be conspicuous.

After entering the Scripture Depository, Meng Qi poured himself a cup of plain water from the table and tipped it back. The walk here had been far too long, and the lingering autumn heat was especially fierce. He had been dying of thirst!

Zhenhui, meanwhile, walked to the shelves holding Buddhist scriptures, pulling them out one by one and flipping through each one with earnest care.

"Hey, Junior Brother Zhen Hui, what are you doing? Do you like reading Buddhist scriptures?" Zhen Yong asked, amused and puzzled.

Meng Qi also could not understand Zhenhui's behavior. He refilled his cup and watched while drinking.

Zhenhui wore an exceptionally solemn expression, with a faint glimmer of expectation. "Peerless Divine Skills might be written in the gaps between the pages."

Pfft! Meng Qi sprayed out a mouthful of water, splashing Zhen Yong all over his head and face. Was this guy deeply poisoned by wuxia and fantasy stories? Or did he trust Meng Qi so much that he believed whatever Meng Qi said?

Zhen Yong wiped his face blankly and looked at Meng Qi. "Junior Brother Zhending, what is so funny about that? What Junior Brother Zhen Hui said isn't impossible."

"Yeah, Senior Brother secretly told me that!" Zhenhui continued flipping through the books with extraordinary seriousness.

"Heh heh." That was all Meng Qi could say. Then, gathering his absurd mood, he said, "Little Junior Brother, don't rush. We have to come here every day anyway. Let's clean first, or we'll be punished."

Hearing this from the senior brother he trusted most, Zhenhui immediately set down the scriptures and cleaned the Scripture Depository together with Meng Qi and Zhen Yong.

By the middle of the afternoon, they had nearly finished cleaning. Just as Meng Qi was preparing to "browse" the scriptures, Zhen Yong suddenly clutched his stomach and said in a frantic rush, "Oh no, junior brothers, people have three urgent needs. Your senior brother needs to answer nature's call first."

As he spoke, he dashed toward the Stairs in a blur, his footsteps thudding down them as he vanished from Meng Qi and Zhenhui's sight.

Meng Qi did not think much of it. He called Zhenhui over to carefully distinguish the categories and storage locations of the Buddhist scriptures, checking whether there was anything worth noticing.

About a quarter of an hour later, Zhen Yong returned, clutching his stomach with a pale face.

"Senior Brother Zhen Yong, are you all right?" Meng Qi asked with concern.

Zhen Yong shook his head. "I think I ate something bad."

Like Meng Qi and Zhenhui, he slowly scanned the book titles before the shelves. Then he suddenly chuckled. "There's actually a fist manual for Arhat Fist here."

"Arhat Fist? Isn't that the fist art you senior brothers practice every day?" Meng Qi hurriedly craned his head over.

Zhen Yong pulled out the book and handed it to Meng Qi. "Yes. I thought it would be upstairs. Who would have expected it to be on this floor?"

Meng Qi took it and greedily flipped through it, wanting to memorize every bit of its contents.

"Heh heh, Junior Brother Zhending, do you need your senior brother to give you some pointers?" Zhen Yong said with a grin.

Delight rose in Meng Qi's heart, but he still asked uneasily, "Th-this is allowed?"

Secretly learning martial arts without permission was a violation of temple rules!

Zhenhui also widened his clear black-and-white eyes, watching Zhen Yong with restrained excitement.

Zhen Yong pointed at the fist manual. "Since the manual is kept in a place where all monks may freely enter and borrow books, it means this is basic knowledge that anyone can learn. It doesn't count as violating temple rules."

"Mm." Meng Qi was still uneasy. He picked up the fist manual and returned to the first floor, intending to ask the Old Monk responsible for lending scriptures.

The Old Monk had withered yellow brows and deeply wrinkled skin, looking as if he might keel over dead at any moment. At present, he was dozing with his eyes half-open and half-closed.

"Grand Martial Uncle, has this fist manual been placed in the wrong location?" Meng Qi asked cautiously.

According to Xuan Xin, this Old Monk guarding the building had the Dharma name Kong Hui. He belonged to the same generation as Abbot Kong Wen, three full generations above Meng Qi—Shaolin followed the sequence: "Xin Kong Wu Xuan Zhen, Qing Jing Zhi Hui Shen."

Kong Hui lifted his eyelids. His cloudy eyes swept over Meng Qi before he drawled, "Arhat Fist is widely spread and has nothing special about it."

That meant he could learn it! Meng Qi thought in wild delight. Though it was an extremely ordinary fist art, it was still better than having nothing at all!

He joyfully carried the fist manual back to the second floor and solemnly bowed to Zhen Yong. "Please instruct me, Senior Brother."

After that, until noon had nearly passed, Meng Qi and Zhenhui practiced martial arts in the Scripture Depository. They felt as if the strength throughout their bodies were showing signs of gathering into a single force.

Since he had to return for martial arts practice, Zhen Yong hurriedly bid them farewell. Meng Qi and Zhenhui, meanwhile, strolled contentedly along the cliff.

As they walked, Meng Qi noticed something off about Zhenhui's gaze. He kept staring at the bottomless abyss outside.

"Little Junior Brother, what are you looking at?" Meng Qi asked, quite puzzled.

Zhenhui frowned. "Senior Brother, if I jumped down, would I obtain a peerless secret manual or an immortal weapon and divine artifact? No, I don't see any immortals dancing with swords..."

Meng Qi's expression instantly froze on his face. It was over. He had led a child astray.

No, he had to steer him back! Meng Qi thought it over. Seeing how easily Zhenhui could be fooled, half out of a desire to "save" him and half because of a malicious urge for amusement, he said, "Little Junior Brother, let's change stories tonight."

"What story?" Zhenhui asked excitedly.

Meng Qi gave a sly grin. "The story of Summer Rain Lotus by Daming Lake."

"Um, is she a peerless expert?" Zhenhui asked, both curious and delighted.

"..."

The bright moon high in the sky was veiled by Dark Clouds. The bitter wind cut to the bone, making the paper-pasted windows creak and rattle. Each Sectarian Monk had received another cotton quilt, yet Zhen Ying and Zhen Guan were still curled into tight balls from the cold.

Meng Qi noticed none of this. Sitting cross-legged in meditation with a tranquil mind, he felt True Qi rise, gather into Golden Saliva Jade Liquid, evolve into Willow Branch Sweet Dew, and fill the corresponding acupoints.

The instant that breath of True Qi filled them, Meng Qi immediately felt all three hundred and sixty-five major acupoints across his body swell. True Qi surged forth, and his primary meridians seemed to be scoured by a flood, expanding one by one—just as the saying went: "When Qi is full, meridians naturally open."

Ordinary people needed a certain amount of time for this step, but this body of Meng Qi's had already completed the Hundred Days Foundation Establishment. Now, with Qi full and naturally overflowing, his meridians met no obstruction and all opened for the first time.

Meng Qi slowly opened his eyes. His entire body felt refreshed, as if he possessed inexhaustible strength. He understood that he had crossed the first threshold of martial cultivation.

He forcibly suppressed the urge to get out of bed and practice a round of Arhat Fist, then slowly exhaled. There was not much joy over this breakthrough in his heart. First, the Hundred Days Foundation Establishment was relatively simple, with nothing particularly difficult about it; it had simply come as naturally as water flowing into a channel. Second, several more months had passed, and his Arhat Fist had become fairly convincing, yet he still could not see the slightest hope of leaving the Servant Courtyard.

And unless he left the Servant Courtyard, there was absolutely no way for him to reach deeper martial arts or divine skills capable of breaking through the divide between man and Celestial Being!

"Alas..." Meng Qi's thousand anxieties and ten thousand troubles all turned into a single long sigh.

"Zhending, the Sutra Lecture Hall will not hold lectures these next two days. You will be responsible for cleaning the Chan Xin Courtyard. Do not provoke our distinguished guests." One morning after breakfast, Xuan Xin summoned Meng Qi.

"Distinguished guests? Martial Uncle Xuan Xin, may I ask which sect's experts they are?" Meng Qi wanted to make inquiries clearly, lest he offend some taboo of the guests.

Xuan Xin smiled. "The True Martial Sect, Xuantian Sect, Sword Washing Pavilion, Flower Washing Sword Sect, Azure Star Sect, Great River Gang, and other Great Jin sects have accepted Shaolin's invitation. They have sent experts with their young disciples to discuss the martial path together. In truth, it is simply an opportunity for the exceptionally gifted young disciples of every sect to spar, exchange pointers, and broaden their horizons."

Meng Qi sucked in a cold breath. These were all major martial sects of the world that Xuan Xin had spoken of! The True Martial Sect and Xuantian Sect, for instance, were two of the Three Daoist Sects. Sword Washing Pavilion and Flower Washing Sword Sect belonged to the Six Sword-Holding Sects, while Azure Star Sect and Great River Gang stood among the Six Great Powers.

"Exceptionally gifted young disciples?" Meng Qi asked instinctively. After all, he too counted as a young disciple of Shaolin's Zhen Generation, and he could not help feeling a little competitive.

Xuan Xin rubbed his round, bulging belly and burst into laughter. "Why are you asking? Could it be that you want to spar with them? You are a Sectarian Monk who has only just completed the Hundred Days Foundation Establishment. Compared to them, one is a toad in the mud and the other a phoenix in the heavens. Forget sparring—you are not even qualified to stand beside them!"

His vicious mockery left Meng Qi rather embarrassed and angry. Blood rushed to his head, turning his face crimson. Though his mental age was also over twenty and he possessed considerable social experience, he was, after all, still young and hot-blooded, unable to completely avoid a desire to contend and excel. Now that someone had looked down on him so contemptuously, and he thought of the gap between himself and those favored children of heaven, it was only natural that he found it hard to contain the turmoil in his emotions.

Xuan Xin seemed utterly unaware and continued, "I heard that among the young disciples from the various sects this time, several are not yet twenty but have already entered the Acupoint Opening Realm. They may well have hopes of joining the Human Ranking in the future. And you? What martial arts do you know? What supreme techniques do you understand? Still, Shaolin also produces talents in abundance. This generation's Zhen Chang, Zhen Ben, and Zhen Miao are no worse than them."

As he spoke, he shot Meng Qi a sidelong glance. "Why are you still standing there? Go clean the Chan Xin Courtyard."

Meng Qi gritted his teeth, calmed himself, and carried his broom toward the Chan Xin Courtyard.

Xuan Xin watched Meng Qi's retreating back. The smile on his face gradually faded, leaving only a trace at the corner of his mouth.