Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
In the courtyard, he swept the ground.
He had been in this world for three days.
One could imagine how much had been going through Li Su's mind during those three days.
First of all, he was a disciple of the Xuan generation. That was right—the highest generation of Shaolin Temple disciples in Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.
The future abbot of Shaolin Temple, that Master Xuanci, both compassionate and merciless, was his senior brother. No, he was the little monk who had brought him a steamed bun not long after he woke up.
Joining Shaolin Temple right off the bat was undoubtedly a tremendous piece of good news for Li Su.
But becoming a disciple of the Xuan generation left Li Su feeling a bit queasy.
When Master Xuanci became the leader of the group, he should have been in his thirties. That was also around the time he met Ye Erniang, while Xuzhu was probably in his twenties when he appeared in the story.
Taken together, that added up to almost sixty years.
Subtract Xuanci's current age, and there were still at least fifty years to go.
Half a century before Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils began? That didn't bode well.
It was simply too long.
The longer it took, the more likely something was to go wrong.
According to records in the real world, few people survived their first entry into a World Fragment if they spent more than thirty years there.
The one saving grace was that he was in Shaolin Temple. As long as he didn't go looking for trouble, he should be fine.
After all, the only time Shaolin Temple nearly got wiped out in Jin Da's novels was during Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre. In the other stories, it generally appeared as a pillar of the martial world.
As long as he stayed cautious, he should be fine.
But compared with the story's timeline, what truly frustrated Li Su wasn't that. It was the Nine Yang Divine Skill.
He had planned to look for the Nine Yang Divine Skill after some time, but then he suddenly remembered something.
Jin Da had revised his novels.
The first and second editions were all right.
In the first, the Nine Yang Divine Skill originated with Bodhidharma. In the second, because the sutra was written in Chinese, it was suspected to have been created by a Shaolin master under Bodhidharma's name, though no specific date was given.
If this was the first edition, then the Nine Yang Divine Skill could undoubtedly be found in Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.
With the second edition, it was hard to say.
But if this World Fragment was based on the latest version—the so-called third edition—then he was in for a nasty surprise. In that version, the Nine Yang Divine Skill was created after the Nine Yin Manual. A remarkable stranger beat Wang Chongyang in a drinking contest and borrowed the manual to read. He decided the Nine Yin Manual was far too sinister, so he created the Nine Yang Divine Skill.
That was undoubtedly a nasty surprise.
In other words, it was almost certainly created during Legend of the Condor Heroes, or even Return of the Condor Heroes.
Which meant it very likely didn't exist in Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.
One could imagine how miserable Li Su felt at that prospect. Especially since someone in the real world was already trying to get their hands on it. By the time he came back next time, the flower might well have wilted.
For a while, he even lost the urge to practice martial arts. After all, the Nine Yang Divine Skill had been the dream of countless children.
"Xuankong, Xuankong!"
Xuanci's voice rang out.
The little monk came bounding over.
Li Su stopped what he was doing and looked at the lively little monk. He couldn't help sighing inwardly.
Time was a butcher's knife.
Such an adorable child, only to grow up looking like that.
He had abandoned Ye Erniang after she became pregnant, then turned a blind eye when she became one of the Four Great Evils. He'd said nothing when Xiao Yuanshan struck, and once exposed, he'd promptly taken his own life by severing his heart meridians.
The things ordinary people did, this young fellow didn't do a single one of them.
Li Su blinked and smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
Xuanci said impatiently, "Senior Brother, come on!"
A flicker of confusion crossed Li Su's eyes. Where to?
"?"
"We've been at the monastery for a year now. We can officially start practicing martial arts. Master told us to go see him."
Practice martial arts?
Li Su's eyes shifted. He and Xuanci were Shaolin monks, not lay disciples who practiced with their hair unshaved. So from the moment they entered the monastery, their paths had been very different from those of lay disciples.
Lay disciples focused on martial arts, with Buddhist studies as a supplement.
Monks did the opposite: Buddhist studies came first, martial arts second.
So, after more than a year as a disciple, Li Su hadn't learned any martial arts. He'd only studied scriptures.
He and Xuanci had both been reciting the Diamond Sutra.
Thankfully, he'd pretended he couldn't speak after waking up. Otherwise, reciting the scripture would likely have given him away.
That was why Li Su had spent the past few days secretly studying, silently reciting the Diamond Sutra so he wouldn't expose himself when he spoke.
Although monks didn't make martial arts their primary pursuit, they still had to learn them.
After all, putting aside Shaolin Temple's status in the martial world, it possessed all those martial arts. As the saying went, a man wasn't guilty of a crime, but possessing a treasure was enough to make him one. Without strength to defend them, the Seventy-Two Ultimate Arts would have been snatched away long ago.
Li Su nodded, a trace of anticipation in his eyes.
The Nine Yang Divine Skill was probably out of reach, but he could still learn Shaolin Temple's martial arts. Who knew—perhaps he'd get the chance to learn the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic one day? It was the supreme manual of martial arts.
They passed through the corridor and headed for Arhat Hall.
Neither he nor Xuanci was a disciple of Arhat Hall. To be precise, monks like them had no assigned hall yet. They would study Buddhist teachings for ten years and build a foundation first; after that, the Bodhidharma Institute would assign them according to their individual circumstances.
Most of Arhat Hall's disciples were lay disciples of Shaolin Temple.
When they arrived, the main hall was bustling. The sounds of martial practice rang out, loud enough to shake the rafters.
As befitted the world's most unyielding sect, even the simplest, most basic martial arts had a fierce, unbending air.
Shaolin Temple's martial arts generally had to be practiced alongside the corresponding Buddhist teachings. The more advanced the martial art, the deeper the Buddhist knowledge required.
They were said to be utterly unyielding and fierce—but one could just as well say they were too unyielding, too fierce.
They didn't go to the main hall. Instead, Xuanci led Li Su around a corner to a side hall.
There were already dozens of little monks inside, along with a kindly-looking old monk.
The old monk's Dharma name was Tianming. He was a disciple of the Tian generation, one generation above Li Su and the others, and their instructor.
Hmm? Wondering why Li Su knew so much after only three days, even though he still couldn't speak?
Xuanci had told him.
And the reason Li Su thought Xuanci had grown up wrong? This was it.
The little fellow had a classic case of hyperactivity. He never stopped all day long. Even when his hands and feet couldn't move, his mouth kept going.
During the few days Li Su had been recovering, the little fellow had chattered incessantly in his ear.
Whatever there was to know, Xuanci had spilled it all before Li Su even had to fish for information.
It could be a little annoying at times, though.
Still, there was no doubt that he'd helped Li Su learn a great deal in a short time.
The old monk glanced at Xuanci and Xuankong as they hurried in, then looked over all the little monks present. "You've been at the monastery for a year and learned a fair number of scriptures. It's time to start practicing martial arts. Today, I'll teach you our introductory martial art, Arhat Fist. Remember, our martial arts are primarily for strengthening the body. In your practice, don't be impatient or overconfident. Don't reach beyond your abilities, and don't seek to dominate others. Understood?"
"Yes, Master."
Everyone nodded in unison.
"Arhat Fist consists of eighteen forms, one stance to each form, and each stance is paired with a particular exercise. It is said: regulate your breathing, guide your qi through the Six Meridians, guard your heart and keep your mind from straying, still your thoughts and keep them from scattering. It is both internal and external, both spirit and form, both stillness and motion..."
The old monk rose to his feet and began demonstrating. As he moved, the seemingly simple Arhat Fist roared through the air. Unlike the style practiced in the main hall of Arhat Hall—hard on the outside, fierce and invincible—his movements were unified and seamless. His fists swept through broad, powerful arcs, giving the impression that nothing could withstand them.
The little monks were stunned. Li Su's eyes widened, and his mind was struck as if by a bolt of lightning.
You call this an introductory fist technique?!