Chapter 243: with translation of chapter title

Everyone looked at each other, their faces turned pale. Everyone knows the relationship between Feng Yi and Xiao Feng. Unexpectedly, at a critical moment, Feng Yi actually struck Xiao Feng, causing his father's death, and yet he still speaks of the sweeper monk's compassionate words—these cold remarks are truly chilling.

This person is really too weird; who knows what's going on in his head?

Sao Di Seng

Thus we will include "Sao Di Seng". But we need to decide capitalization: each word capitalized? Usually pinyin names are capitalized each word: "Sao Di Seng". We'll do that.

But Feng Yi's gaze was sharp; he saw clearly and became even more certain that the sweeper monk spared Xiao Feng out of affection, not using his full strength; otherwise Xiao Feng would never have had the chance to strike his palm onto him.

Because the sweeper monk struck Xiao Yuanshan, and Xiao Feng intervened to stop him—these actions, though they sound lengthy to describe, actually occurred in an instant; the entire battle lasted less than a second.

But the sweeper monk first struck Xiao Yuanshan with his right palm, then, facing Xiao Feng's full-force attack, blocked Xiao Feng's double palms with his left palm.

However, the sweeper monk can, from two feet away without moving his hand, bounce Murong Fu back, and he can easily neutralize Xiao Feng's Dragon Subduing Palm with an invisible method.

He had already fully displayed his formidable internal strength, the unity of mind and force, and the extreme hard-then-soft technique of energy exertion.

Young Forest Temple

But he didn't; he merely changed the direction of his right palm on the spur of the moment to attack Xiao Feng, and in the process he could have exerted a strong force to repel Xiao Feng, yet he only feigned it, withdrawing his palm midway and continuing to strike Xiao Yuanshan.

And in this process, Feng Yi imagined himself in the sweeper monk's place; he had the ability to bring Xiao Feng's palm force along to strike Xiao Yuanshan, or to redirect it, but he still didn't; instead, he merely induced Xiao Feng to change his move on the spur of the moment, using his left palm to meet Feng Yi's right palm, thereby lessening the push.

Sixth Patriarch Huineng

Huai Rang

Dao Yi

Because Xiao Feng greatly respected the sweeper monk, his aim was to save his father; if he had the ability to change his move again, he should have used his left palm to block the sweeper monk's right palm striking Xiao Yuanshan, rather than following through to attack the old monk's chest.

Abbot Xuan Ci

Because whoever gets an extra chance to change a move in an instant gains an extra chance to strike; this single opportunity is enough to cost a person his life, but when besieged by several top-tier masters, this move cannot be fully executed, because when you strike at someone, others can strike simultaneously, launching a combined attack,

Guo Jing

Dong Fang Bubai

Black Wood Cliff

Divine Dragon Cult Leader

When the sweeping monk acted, Feng Yi stared unblinkingly, realizing he truly revered the great hero he spoke of, so much that even when trying to defuse tension, he couldn't bear to let him suffer the slightest injustice.

Upon hearing Feng Yi's words, Xiao Feng also froze; he also realized the sweeping monk was showing mercy to his subordinates, but his father had been struck, and he had no mind for anything else, hastily supporting his father, only to see his breathing cease, his heart stop, already dead; he was overwhelmed with grief and at a loss.

The old monk said, "It's time; we should go now!"

Suddenly his body swayed; his right hand seized the back of Xiao Yuanshan's corpse's collar, then he lunged to the pillar, his left hand grabbing the back of Murong Bo's collar,

This move was both swift and strange; Xiao Feng had no time to react, everyone stared in shock, and in the blink of an eye the old monk hovered above the ground, as if walking on air, crossing several zhang and leaping out the window.

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu shouted in unison, "What… what are you doing?" and simultaneously struck with their palms at the old monk's back.

Since both of their fathers had been slain, they naturally felt a shared hatred; their palms joined, the force grew greater, the momentum fierce, truly possessing the power to move mountains and fill seas.

Feng Yi knew the old monk's skill had reached the level of pure perfection, where release and retrieval were at will; such a fierce momentum was merely a booster for him.

Indeed, as the two palms' wind approached, the old monk drifted forward like a paper kite for several zhang, still clutching the two corpses; the three bodies floated lightly, hardly seeming flesh and blood.

Xiao Feng's strike missed, he was shocked and angry, chasing out the window; Murong Fu was equally anxious, leaping out and sprinting madly.

Both had high lightness skills, but Xiao Feng surpassed Murong Fu; in the blink of an eye, Murong Fu fell three zhang behind.

Feng Yi and the others also flew out; Ah Zhu's skill was weak, but fortunately Ah Zi supported her.

All that could be seen was the old monk hoisting one person in one hand, head held high, running straight up the mountain.

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu's lightness skills were not weak; thinking of their fathers' corpses being taken, they disregarded any consequences and pursued desperately.

Xiao Feng's lightness skill belonged to the yang‑rigid school, his stride swift as a shooting star; he felt the mountain wind cut his face like a blade, while the old monk's steps were slow; he thought he could catch up in two or three steps, but remained constantly two or three zhang behind, unable to close the gap even by a step, and his successive palm strikes all hit empty air.

The old monk's astonishing, world‑shaking lightness skill was something Xiao Feng had neither seen nor heard of before, as if he possessed some evil art.

Feng Yi saw clearly that the old monk appeared slow but was actually fast, deliberately keeping Xiao Feng two or three zhang behind; his body swayed swiftly, and in the blink of an eye he was behind Xiao Feng, saying, "Brother Xiao, don't rush; your father isn't dead—he's doing this to heal his wounds."

Xiao Feng shuddered at the notion of killing someone to then heal them, finding it utterly bizarre, but seeing Feng Yi's smiling face he asked, "How so?" and slowed his pace.

Feng Yi smiled and said, "Do you know the phrase 'to trample and kill all under heaven'?"

Xiao Feng shook his head.

Feng Yi waved his hand and said, "The Sixth Patriarch Huineng of the Chan sect once said, 'Under your feet a colt will be born, to trample and kill all under heaven.' He said this to his disciple Huairang, who later became the great Chan master Dahui."

Huairang took on a disciple named Daoyi, that is Mazu, a great Chan figure after the Sixth Patriarch; it was he who made the entire Buddhist world revere the Chan sect, thus fulfilling the saying 'to trample and kill all under heaven.'

Feng Yi and Huang Shang studied the Buddhist scriptures together for a year, and thus knew these anecdotes inside out.

Xiao Feng nodded and said, "The Shaolin Temple is the ancestral seat of the Chan sect."

Feng Yi gave a slight nod and said, "Mazu propagated the Chan sect, advocating 'enlightenment does not require external seeking,' emphasizing 'the mind itself is Buddha,' calling it 'sudden enlightenment,' with the motto 'purify the mind, realize oneself'; that Abbot Xuanzi could step forward, admit guilt and take his own life, can also be seen in this light."

Xiao Feng vaguely understood and said, "You mean this old monk really wants to have my father and Murong Bo heal each other's wounds and even convert them…" He didn't finish the sentence, finding it too ridiculous.

Given his father's temperament, could he even take refuge in the Three Treasures?

Feng Yi said leisurely, "This old monk's incisiveness is peerless, his Buddhist doctrine vast and bright—I have never seen such. I can comprehend his thoughts and actions, but I simply cannot fathom how to make these two deeply obsessed elders let go of their fixations, so I must see it clearly."

Saying this, he added force to his steps and swept past Xiao Feng's side.

Xiao Feng saw Feng Yi's back; looking closely, he noticed Feng Yi's feet were not touching the ground, only stepping on grass blades.

This grass‑skimming flight skill is not overly difficult; Xiao Feng confidence he could manage it, the difficulty lies in sustaining such a distance in one breath, because grass‑skimming flight relies entirely on a single breath of true qi from the dantian, and going thirty or fifty zhang is already the limit.

Yet the journey from the Sutra Pavilion alone is at least three or five li; what's more remarkable is his buoyant steps, making the heavy seem light—this inner strength both astonished and impressed Xiao Feng, while also arousing his curiosity as to whether he or the old monk is stronger.

Murong Fu and the others trailed behind the two; seeing Feng Yi and Xiao Feng walking side by side, Feng Yi pointing and commenting, an outsider unaware would think they had come out together to enjoy the mountain scenery.

In the blink of an eye, several people sped like lightning; the sweeping monk twisted east and west in the desolate mountains, entered a grove, saw a flat clearing, placed the two corpses beneath a tree, and arranged them sitting cross‑legged.

Feng Yi had already arrived and saw the old monk seated behind the two corpses, his palms pressing respectively against their backs.

As the old monk settled, Xiao Feng also arrived.

Xiao Feng stared at the monk, unsure what he was doing, but seeing Feng Yi's brows knit tight, his heart uneasy; yet upon reflection, if the old monk harbored ill intent, when he had just snatched his father's corpse from Xiao Feng's hands he would have struck without resistance, so he must mean no harm, and said, "Master, what are you doing?"

All that was heard was the old monk saying, "I carried them while running for a while, to vitalize their blood."

Xiao Feng was astonished beyond measure and said, "Vitalize their blood?"

The old monk said, "Their internal injuries are too severe; we must first make them enter the turtle-breath sleep, then seek a rescue."

Xiao Feng's heart jolted: "Could it be that in the world there really exists a practice of first beating someone to death and then treating their injuries?"

Not long after, Murong Fu, Jiumozhi, Xuanyin, Xuansheng, and the Divine Mountain Venerable, Azhi and Azhu, etc., arrived one after another; they saw Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo's heads suddenly emitting wisps of white vapor.

The old monk turned the two to face each other, then pulled their four hands together so they clasped.

Murong Fu, seeing this, said, "You… what are you doing?"

The old monk's attitude toward him and Xiao Feng was completely different; he remained silent, merely walking slowly around the two corpses, his hands repeatedly shooting out like drawing a bow, continuously striking, each strike aimed at their acupoints.

Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo showed no movement; everyone was baffled, but Feng Yi perceived the method: the old monk's hands struck different acupoints on the two, varying in force and speed—some points he merely brushed past, others he struck and then kneaded a few times, and the white vapor rising from their heads grew thicker and thicker.

After another span of time to finish a cup of tea, Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo's bodies simultaneously trembled slightly.

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu, shocked and delighted, cried out in unison, "Father!" Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo slowly opened their eyes, glanced at each other, then immediately closed them again.

One could see Xiao Yuanshan's face suffused with red light, while Murong Bo's face faintly showed a bluish vapor. Recalling what Feng Yi had said—that one had excessive yang energy and the other excessive yin—it proved true.

Xuanyin, Xuansheng, Daqing, and others all carried marvelous medicines for healing injuries, but they did not know which one was appropriate. They also understood that the old monk's earlier strikes on them in the Sutra Pavilion had merely caused them to temporarily suspend breath and stop their hearts—a method for treating severe internal injuries.

This "turtle-breath" method, not to mention many profound internal arts masters, even Azhi had once practiced it in the Star Lodging Sect.

However, that is voluntarily ceasing breath; to strike another person so they stop breathing yet do not die—the marvel of such divine skill is truly unimaginable.

Suddenly Feng Yi sighed, "What a marvel—closing the six senses, the five aggregates all empty; yet once Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo awaken, they will realize 'non-self,' and I do not know what feeling to have!"

The old monk, who had been fully focused on turning and striking, could not help but glance at Feng Yi.

Many eminent Buddhist monks were present, and they all knew that the six senses are a Buddhist term referring to the six faculties: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

Xiao Feng's heart stirred slightly, as if he grasped the meaning, yet upon further reflection he felt bewildered, and without hesitation asked, "Feng Brother, what do you mean by that?"

Feng Yi said lightly, "Just wait and see; you'll know shortly."

Gradually, Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo's bodies twitched repeatedly, their breathing growing from faint to loud, ever heavier, like a bull; Xiao Yuanshan's face grew ever redder, as if a ball of fire burned within, while Murong Bo's face turned a bluish-green, like profound ice, terrifying to behold.

Suddenly the old monk shouted, "Ha! Four hands clasped, inner energy responding—using yin to aid yang, using yang to transform yin. Imperial ambitions, deep-seated hatreds, all return to dust, vanish into nothing!"

Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo's four hands, which had been clasped, upon hearing the old monk's shout, involuntarily tightened; each person's inner energy surged toward the other, merging and interconnecting, the surplus compensating for the deficiency, and their faces gradually lost the red and blue, turning pallid.

After a moment, their faces returned to normal; they opened their eyes simultaneously and smiled at each other.

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu each saw their father open his eyes and smile; their joy was beyond words, yet each felt a startle in his heart.

Everyone was likewise astonished, for at this moment Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo not only looked normal, but even between their brows and eyes they were calm and at ease, devoid of their former deceit and wickedness, as if they had been reborn.

One saw Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo join hands, rise, and together kneel before the old monk.

Everyone again shuddered, exchanged glances, and thought the same: indeed so.

The old monk, however, half-closed his eyes, calm and composed, said, "You two have walked the path from life to death and back to life; is there still anything you cannot let go of? If you had died just then, would you still harbor thoughts of restoring the great Yan or avenging your wives?"

Xiao Yuanshan said, "I have wasted thirty years idling near the Young Forest Temple, lacking any compassion of a Buddhist disciple; I earnestly beg the master to admit me."

The crowd erupted in an uproar, growing more fearful, for everything Feng Yi had said in the Sutra Pavilion had proven true.

Xiao Feng also showed surprise, and whispered, "Father, what did you say?"

Xiao Yuanshan, however, paid no heed.

The old monk asked, "Do you not wish to avenge your wife's killing?"

Xiao Yuanshan said, "In my life I have killed people without counting, numbering in the hundreds; if the kin of all those I slew were to come seeking vengeance, even dying a hundred times would not suffice."

The old monk turned to Murong Bo and said, "And you?"

Murong Bo gave a slight smile and said, "Commoners are like dust; emperors too are like dust. Whether the great Yan is not restored or is restored, both are empty."

Murong Fu felt dizzy, his lips trembling; indeed, his father had abandoned the quest to restore the state.

The old monk laughed heartily and said, "Great awakening, excellent, excellent!"

Murong Bo said, "I beg the master to accept me as a disciple and to give further guidance."

The old monk said, "If you wish to leave home and become monks, you must seek the masters of the Young Forest Temple to shave your heads. I have a few words I might as well tell you." Azhi suddenly said, "Old Master Murong, you have abandoned the restoration—what about your son?"

Murong Bo shook his head and said, "Illusory bubbles, all are empty!"

Murong Fu's face grew even paler.

Azhi again asked Xiao Yuanshan, "Old Xiao, will you still kill people?"

Xiao Yuanshan replied, "Even sweeping the ground fears harming ants' lives; how could I bear the word 'kill'?"

Everyone knew the two's former conduct, yet to see with their own eyes these two martial-arts monsters become eminent monks was simply beyond belief.

Feng Yi laughed heartily and said, "What a great awakening—all is empty."

As the saying goes, saving lives is easy, dispelling inner demons hard; Master, your method is truly superb, leaving me deeply impressed.

The old monk sighed deeply and said, "You two laypeople have awakened to the great path, already escaped the sea of suffering; do you not feel joy for them?"

Feng Yi snorted and said, "You say they have awakened to the great path; rather, it is a forced conversion—this would be more honest!"

=9+book_eh

"How do you know this is a forced conversion?" the old monk said.

"You think I don't know the truth?" Feng Yi laughed and said, "People have eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—the six faculties; in Buddhism they are called the six senses. When a person dies, the six senses cease, but to keep the body alive while rendering the six senses useless is extremely difficult."

Therefore you first stirred their hearts and minds, plunging them into fear, then struck them into the turtle-breath state. Their eyes were blind, ears deaf, all perception lost, yet their bodily touch and mental thoughts were not eradicated; a slight stimulus would cause them to awaken.

You appeared to be moving their blood, but in fact you deliberately used Brother Xiao's palm wind and your own inner strength to produce a false whistling sound, thereby eliciting their inner fantasies.

At this point you struck their acupoints, in fact using divine power to seal their bodily and mental senses, letting your spiritual awareness penetrate the other's heart, creating a separation of spirit and flesh; they were unaware of their own existence, thus falling into boundless illusion.

At that time they could not see, could not hear, could not speak; what they felt in their hearts was only endless anguish and emptiness.

Their internal true qi was no longer under their own control; then you again shouted a great divine command, like a nectar pouring over the crown, stirring their true qi, which flowed ceaselessly into each other's bodies—their four palms moving back and forth, transforming yang to yin and yin to yang, forming a cycle.

In this process, all pain and emptiness, joy and satisfaction seemed to be drawn from within, their spirits appearing to leave their orifices, filling their body and mind with a sense of fulfillment.

And this tranquil, thoughtless, dreamless emptiness was a state they had never experienced before.

Gradually, their original consciousness ceased to exist, their hearts empty of anything, awaiting awakening from the feigned death.

Naturally, the frenzied killer Xiao Yuanshan and the single-minded restorer Murong Bo were gone; only a great virtuous monk of profound awakening remained.

Hearing this, everyone was shocked; no wonder the two instantly became eminent monks whose five aggregates were empty— the implication being that the old monk had deceived the two.

Xiao Feng's face changed drastically, and he exclaimed, "Brother Feng, is he still my father?"

Feng Yi smiled faintly: "He is your father, and he is not your father; it all depends on how you think."

He felt that the sweeper monk's method was just like when certain addicts in a past life indulge their cravings, sinking into their own fantasies.

A single sentence, in a meticulously woven dream, there is nothing, yet everything is there.

Because in this life, whatever desire one has, it is all for psychological satisfaction.

As long as one has this feeling, nothing else matters.

Even if one sobers up and learns the truth, one will still anticipate the next indulgence, enjoying it tirelessly.

Thus, the person remains the same, but the one who indulges and the sober one differ in their thoughts, considerations, and character.

"Layperson, impressive!" the old monk laughed: "But you have forgotten— not only is death false, but in this heaven and earth, sun and moon, the myriad beings, and you and I, which of these is truly real?"

Mind is Buddha, Buddha is mind; when the mind is clear, it recognizes Buddha, and recognizing Buddha clarifies the mind; apart from mind there is no Buddha, apart from Buddha there is no mind; form is emptiness, emptiness is form; even without form, it is still non-form!

True is false, false is true; as long as one can recognize the self and restore one's original nature, why bother keeping it in mind?

Feng Yi said calmly: "Then may I ask, Master, what is their original nature?"

The old monk said: "Do you know, layperson, that our Shaolin Temple has stood for hundreds of years, and throughout history only the founder Bodhidharma mastered all the supreme techniques; since then no eminent monk has been able to master all martial arts. Why is that? The manuals of the seventy-two supreme arts have always been kept in this pavilion, never forbidding disciples from reading them— what is the reason?"

Feng Yi smiled: "In the world, the six senses face all kinds of temptations— the eyes can see beauty, the nose can smell strange fragrances, the ears can hear wonderful sounds, the mouth can taste delicious flavors."

Especially, the greater one's ability and the higher one's status, the greater the temptations; those who can resist and overcome them are true sages and virtuous ones— this is what your Buddhist school pursues as the 'original nature' doctrine.

Placing the scriptures there and not prohibiting their reading is none other than a way for people to know themselves, just as the Confucian practice of 'examining oneself thrice daily' and the Daoist practice of 'preserving the spirit and inner illumination'— all three teachings resist external temptations, restrain desires, and thus recognize the self's non-dual gate.

Seeing his young age but extraordinary insight, everyone nodded repeatedly.

Feng Yi and Huang Shang stayed together for over a year, both studying Daoist and Buddhist scriptures; Huang Shang being a top scholar, naturally a great Confucian, the three studied together, Feng Yi absorbed the teachings through constant exposure, and in discussing the Dao he was no match for anyone.

The old monk nodded and said: "Layperson, you have indeed summed up the cause in a single sentence. Our temple's seventy-two supreme arts each can harm vital points and take lives, fierce and ruthless, shocking heaven and harmony. Yet our martial arts were all created by virtuous eminent monks; no matter how fierce the techniques, their intent seeks compassion, thus they subdue without harming."

Thus, practicing each supreme art must be accompanied by the corresponding compassionate Buddhist doctrine to resolve it, just as you said, everything arises from the mind.

For a martial artist, only when intention and spirit unite can body and mind join, enabling one to truly master a martial art to perfection, achieving mind-to-power, acting as one wishes.

This principle, however, is not known to every monk in our temple; as one's martial skill advances, the understanding of Zen naturally encounters obstacles. In our Shaolin sect we call it the 'martial arts obstacle,' which is the same principle as the 'view obstacle' of other sects.

If you were not learned and versatile, practicing non-action yet accomplishing everything, you could not have reached your present level.

"What a fine non-action that accomplishes everything!" Feng Yi laughed: "Although the Buddhist fourfold emptiness, in my heart I favor Daoist learning."

As the saying goes: "Whatever I lose is not mine; whatever I seek is bound by it. All things are for my use, yet none belong to me. A gentleman uses things without being used by them, likes things without being drowned in them. To be devoted without being immersed in emotion is to have things not be things of things."

The old monk nodded: "The supreme Dao is simplest; inclusiveness makes it great; without desire one is firm; without action one can do everything."

Having realized this, layperson, how could you not return fully laden?

The old monk wished to ask for instruction: "Is your revered master perhaps the Free-and-Easy Wanderer?"

Feng Yi shook his head: "I have heard of the Free-and-Easy Wanderer but never met him; however, what I learned was transmitted by a martial arts master versed in the three teachings— if the opportunity arises, you might get to see him."

The old monk smiled: "I would be honored."

Saying this while looking around: "Buddhism seeks to save the world, martial arts seek to kill; they go opposite ways and restrain each other."

Therefore, practicing our temple's martial arts, only when the thought of compassion grows strong can one master more supreme techniques; yet a high monk who has reached such a realm would disdain to study further those deadly killing methods.

The Great Wheel Bright King's impending disaster is entirely because you are versed in Buddhist doctrine, eloquent beyond compare, yet lack the thought of compassionate giving and saving all beings; thus you cannot dispel the hostility that arises when practicing these superior martial arts, and you have also trained in the Minor Formless Skill of the Free-and-Easy School.

This skill is called Formless, naturally meaning to follow circumstances and endow them; the Bright King's Buddhist learning is insufficient, the latent danger of cultivating Buddhist martial arts has already penetrated to the marrow, and you also cultivate Daoist martial arts, so the deeper your power, the greater the harm.

Jiūmó Zhì sneered: "Master, do you perhaps also wish to ferry across this little monk?"

Suddenly a voice spoke: "Bright King, as a Buddhist eminent monk you are obsessed with fist and foot techniques, yet ignore the karmic obstacles brought by the deadly, ruthless supreme arts that harm vital points; thus the deeper you study, the more lacking your Zen understanding becomes. Today you face this calamity; you had better not engage in martial contests, but listen more to the master's teachings."

The monks all nodded in unison; turning their heads, they saw it was Duan Yu. His inner strength was profound, his lightness skill exquisite, he was versed in Buddhism, and upon hearing the old monk's words from afar he immediately understood.

Jiūmó Zhì heard the old monk's alarming words, yet recalled that he had long practiced Shaolin's supreme arts, and having recently learned the Minor Formless Skill, he should advance further. But hearing the old monk say his sequence was reversed and that great disaster loomed imminently, Jiūmó Zhì, confident in his talent, did not take these words to heart.

Merely hearing that this brat Duan Yu was also spouting nonsense here, while the monks all showed admiration, as if his Buddhism were lacking and he could not even compare to a yellow-haired brat— unbearable, his anger flared, and he sent a flame blade striking toward Duan Yu.

"Be careful!" Xiao Feng shouted.

Feng Yi struck out with a palm; the palm wind pushed Duan Yu away, while the old monk flicked his sleeve, sending Jiūmó Zhì flying several zhang.

This sight left everyone astonished, and they all believed that just now the sweeper monk had shown mercy to Xiao Feng.

The old monk lightly flicks his sleeve and can send Jiūmó Zhì, several zhang away, flying several zhang; could a palm strike not repel Xiao Feng? Obviously that does not hold.

Feng Yi secretly thought: "This old fellow is indeed formidable; it seems I will capsize— had I known, I would not have taken that blow from Qiao Feng."

Jiūmó Zhì originally wanted to watch his duel with Feng Yi, but before so many people, being blown away by a sleeve-flame, he lost face greatly and could only slink away.

His speed of flight and lightness skill were truly awe‑inspiring.

The old monk, however, seemed to have done a trivial thing, and then continued: "In our temple there are naturally those whose Buddhist cultivation is insufficient yet insist on studying supreme martial arts; if they persist, they will either go mad from deviation or suffer internal injuries that are hard to heal."

Our temple's Master Xuán Chéng possessed transcendent martial prowess; the senior eminent monks all deemed him the top martial artist of our temple in two hundred years. Yet in a single night his meridians suddenly snapped, rendering him a cripple— and that is why.

Xuán Yīn and Xuán Shēng both knelt, saying: "Master, is there any way to save Brother Xuán Chéng?"

The old monk shook his head: "Too late; it cannot be saved. When Master Xuán Chéng came to the Sutra Pavilion to select martial arts scriptures, I reminded him three times, yet he remained obstinate and uncomprehending. Now that his meridians are severed, how could they be reconnected?"

Actually, the five aggregates are empty; the physical body injured, he can no longer practice martial arts, but by diligently cultivating Buddhism he thereby gained awakening— truly a blessing in disguise. The two masters' view, however, still falls short of Master Xuán Chéng's.

Xuán Yīn and Xuán Shēng both said: "Yes. Thank you for the guidance."

The old monk said: "I, your humble servant, am at the disposal of the venerable masters in Shaolin Temple; you two performing this great rite— how can I bear it?"

Without even extending a hand to flick his sleeve, with mind and power united, Xuán Yīn and Xuán Shēng each felt a gentle force lift them from beneath their arms, and they rose involuntarily, feeling astonished, thinking that such covert deployment of divine power achieves mind-to-power.

Could this old monk not be a bodhisattva incarnate? Otherwise how could he possess such vast supernatural powers and boundless Buddhist law?

Feng Yi's mind also turned over and over— should he beat a retreat or grit his teeth and press on? Suddenly his ear twitched, his eyes shifted, he formed an idea, and smiled: "Master, whether it is the five aggregates empty, or knowing the self and returning to the original nature— but if it is equated with discarding the past, I think there is much to weigh; for example, Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo could attain great awakening, take refuge in Buddhism, yet could the blood debts they incurred truly be wiped out in a single stroke?"

Or are the victims guilty, or is it truly laying down the butcher's knife and becoming a Buddha instantly— if becoming a Buddha were so easy, wouldn't there be too many Buddha fathers?

One must know that throughout history many sinners have taken refuge in Buddhism; once they leave home they are no longer worldly people, and as long as they cease evil, neither the government nor the jianghu will pursue them further— Feng Yi strongly disagrees with this.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded; a crowd rushed forward— they were the jianghu heroes who had entered the temple together with Xuán Jì and the Beggar Sect.

The old monk ignored him, smiling and saying, "Layperson, have you never made a mistake in your life? Everyone has faults; being able to correct them is the greatest virtue."

Feng Yi smiled and said, "I certainly have made mistakes, but I know that some mistakes, once committed, cannot be resolved by simply saying one has entered the empty gate; repaying kindness with kindness and vengeance with vengeance is what applies to everyone."

He distinguishes clearly between gratitude and grudges—enemies may not necessarily be repaid, but benefactors are repaid like a gushing spring; this is utterly at odds with the Buddhist notion that all four elements are empty.

Suddenly someone said, "Not bad! Could it be that Xiao Yuanshan killed so many people, and a single utterance of taking refuge in the Shaolin Temple would wash away his sins? Could this Buddhist holy land actually be a refuge for murderers?"

Everyone turned their gaze, and You Tanzi, his face masked with frost, walked over slowly.

Xiao Feng said coldly, "You want to take revenge, Xiao—" but then he heard Xiao Yuanshan say, "Feng'er, step back!"

He rose to his full height, walked toward You Tanzi, clasped his hands in salute, and said, "Young Master You, taking revenge for your family is just and proper; Xiao Yuanshan's sins are deep, and the only reason he clings to life is that his hatred has not died. Now that our karmic ties are exhausted, whether you wish to kill or cut him, I will follow your wishes."

This left You Tanzi stunned and hesitating, he asked, "What do you mean by that?"

He possessed deep inner strength; from afar he heard that Xiao Yuanshan had taken refuge in Buddhism, and after hearing Feng Yi's words, he realized he could not defeat his opponent, so he thought he could wait a few more years. But once Xiao Yuanshan became a monk, how would he ever take his revenge?

After all, he too came from a prestigious martial arts family and knew that one should not seek revenge against a monk; who would have expected the other party to bare his chest and accept death, leaving him somewhat at a loss!

Feng Yi sneered, "What a useless piece of cake—you won't even kill your enemy when he gives you the chance?"

Xiao Yuanshan smiled faintly and said, "Feng'er, Young Master You may kill me, but you must never seek revenge afterward, lest you add to my sins."

Xiao Feng wanted to speak but stopped himself,

You Tanzi's face still bore a youthful air, yet at this moment it appeared gloomy and cruel, his eyes flashing with menace as he said coldly, "I am taking revenge for my whole family; even if you do not raise a hand in defense, I will still kill you!"

He sent a palm strike toward Xiao Yuanshan's forehead; the palm wind was subtle yet astonishing.

Xiao Feng was about to unleash his palm when a green shadow flashed, and with a bang there was a loud shock.

(End of chapter)