Chapter 228: Nine Yang Manual, Huo Gong Toutuo
A faint fragrance floated, and a Tianzhu Monk walked through a curtain of moonlight.
Zhou Yan was drinking tea in a guest room in the Chan Courtyard.
“Master, would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Amitabha,” the Tianzhu Monk approached, placing the scriptures in his hand on the stone table.
Zhou Yan poured tea and said, “I read the Lankāvatāra Sūtra, and only then did I realize that what the scriptures recorded was the essence of the Tathagata Buddha’s teachings on Lankā Island, expounding the Mahayana Buddhist Dharma. Reading it has enlightened my mind and revealed my true nature, and I have gained much insight. What version is this?”
The Tianzhu Monk said, “These four volumes of the Lankā Sūtra are the original books brought by Patriarch Bodhidharma when he crossed east, written in Tianzhu script.”
“May I read it?”
“Certainly.”
The Tianzhu Monk handed a volume to Zhou Yan.
The Tianzhu Monk drank tea and said, “From the Western Regions’ Vajra Sect to Shaoshi Mountain, will the Head Escort make a move?”
“Naturally. The Changfeng Escort Agency hired assassins, and the Vajra Sect committed violence at the Tong Pass wharf. The Vajra Sect is going to Shaoshi Mountain to settle grudges, so I will naturally seek revenge for revenge.”
“Well said, then let us guide them.”
“Good,” Zhou Yan smiled.
After finishing the tea, the Tianzhu Monk rose and left. Zhou Yan took the four volumes of the Lankā Sūtra to the guest room.
He flipped through the scriptures; it was the third volume.
The Tianzhu Monk had the first, second, and fourth volumes.
Spring breeze entered the room, and the pages rustled. Zhou Yan’s line of sight was filled with winding characters, none of which he recognized. However, between each line, written in tiny, elegant script, were Chinese characters.
“One must distinguish between reality and illusion. Each place has its own reality and illusion, and everywhere is this same reality and illusion. Qi must be agitated, and spirit should be contained within, without any defects, without any bumps or hollows, without any breaks.”
“When Yin reaches its extreme, it gradually turns to decline, and Shaoyang is secretly born. Yin gradually declines, and Yang gradually grows stronger. Yin and Yang complement each other, generate and support each other. Shaoyang is born from old Yin, and Shaoyin is born from old Yang. Nothing should be taken to extremes; extremes lead to change, from heavy to light, from light to heavy.”
Zhou Yan exhaled lightly. The Nine Yang Manual.
For several breaths, he finally calmed his fluctuating emotions. A lotus oil lamp cast a dim, yellow halo onto the scriptures. Zhou Yan, with undivided attention, recited and memorized. By the end of the Hai hour, he had memorized the cultivation technique of the Nine Yang Manual from one volume of the Lankā Sūtra flawlessly and with extreme proficiency.
He left the guest room. Through the carved window not far away, a green lamp glowed like a bean. The Tianzhu Monk’s low chanting could be heard. He walked over, and the monk who heard his footsteps also stopped chanting.
“Master, I return this volume of scriptures.”
The Tianzhu Monk took the scriptures and then gave the first and second volumes, which he had finished reciting, to Zhou Yan.
He returned to the guest room and opened the scriptures. The first thing he saw were characters he knew all too well.
“Let him be strong, let him be strong, a gentle breeze brushes the mountain ridge; let him be Yoko, let him be Yoko, the bright moon shines on the great river. Let him be fierce, let him be wicked, I have a breath of true qi.”
Zhou Yan followed suit, reciting the cultivation method. As the moon passed its zenith, the first and second volumes of the Nine Yang Manual were memorized by him with great familiarity. The light from the Tianzhu Monk’s side had already faded into the night.
Zhou Yan closed the two volumes of the Lankā Sūtra and went to bed to rest.
…
The bright moon shines among the pines, the clear spring flows over the rocks.
Huang Rong did not know that Zhou Yan was on Shaoshi Mountain. She avoided Ouyang Feng and his nephew, found an inn along the way, bought clothes, disguised herself as a man again, and rode her horse straight to Shaoshi Mountain.
The next evening, Huang Rong arrived at Songshan. Just before sunset, she caught a mountain chicken, gutted it with an Emei steelprick, cleaned the internal organs, but did not pluck its feathers. She mixed mud with water and coated the chicken, then built a fire to roast it.
When night fell, Huang Rong peeled off the dried mud, and the chicken feathers fell off with it. The chicken meat was white and tender, with a rich aroma.
She took a chicken leg and began to eat.
“In these desolate mountains and wild fields, aren’t you afraid of encountering villains, child?”
Huang Rong was greatly startled. How could someone approach from behind without her noticing? She quickly turned around.
In the moonlight, an old monk stood there, his beard white and his face wrinkled. His age was hard to tell, but he was at least seventy or eighty years old.
On her journey, she had already seen several groups of monks and laity heading towards Shaoshi Mountain. She had secretly followed and eavesdropped, learning that they were all disciples of the Shaolin Temple.
Because of Zhou Yan, Huang Rong had more detailed information than Huang Yaoshi. She guessed that the Vajra Sect would arrive at Shaoshi Mountain before long. Furthermore, from the battle at the Yellow River’s Tong Pass wharf, she considered the people of the Vajra Sect to be of the tiger-backed and bear-waisted, robust type. Thus, sighing with relief, she assumed the old monk before her was a Shaolin monk rushing to Shaoshi Mountain.
Huang Rong smiled and said, “Master, you have a kind face and kind heart, and you look like an enlightened high monk. Ascetics are compassionate, so what is there to fear?”
The old monk chuckled and sat by the campfire. “People are divided into different classes, and monks are no exception. Some are merely seeking fame and reputation.”
Huang Rong, with her sharp wit, felt a jolt in her heart. How could a monk from Shaoshi Mountain speak like this? Could it be someone from the Vajra Sect?
She looked at the old monk again. His monk’s robe was spotless, and he did not look like he had traveled a long distance. It was difficult to determine his identity.
Huang Rong, who could lie without batting an eye, said, “Master, what you say is reasonable. I met a wicked monk by the Yellow River, but he was just a wandering monk.”
“And that monk?”
“Naturally, I killed him.”
The old monk clicked his tongue in admiration. “I wouldn’t have thought that such a young boy with a rosy complexion could speak of killing so lightly.”
This monk spoke with a belligerent tone and was definitely not from the Shaolin Temple. With just a few words from the old monk, Huang Rong concluded, “Master, are you a high monk of Shaolin Temple?”
“No.”
“What Buddhist Dharma do you cultivate, Master?”
“Mahayana Buddhist Dharma.”
“Your sudden appearance, Master, makes me uneasy and unable to eat. Since you cultivate Mahayana Buddhist Dharma, I must show respect.”
“Child, do you know the difference between Mahayana and Hinayana Buddhist Dharma?”
“If it were Hinayana Buddhist Dharma, I wouldn’t need to worry and could eat ‘three kinds of pure meat’?”
“Excellent! You are intelligent and quick-witted, child, with great potential.”
Huang Rong giggled and took the beggar’s chicken to the riverbank, pretending to bury it.
“You can eat it, child. I’ll turn my eyes away.”
“How can that be?”
Seeing that Huang Rong was intelligent, considerate in her words, and acted in a way that pleased him, the old monk said, “Where is your sect, child?”
“I have no master.”
The old monk was confident and smiled, “How about becoming my disciple?”
Huang Rong looked at the old monk and smiled without speaking.
The old monk chuckled and took a silver ingot from his monk’s robe, extending his hand to toss it over.
Huang Rong caught it and saw that the five finger imprints were nearly an inch deep. She was astonished, thinking that she hadn’t even seen how the old monk channeled his energy to make such finger imprints. This finger strength was likely beyond her father’s.
She feigned surprise. “What cultivation technique is this?”
“Great Strength Vajra Finger.”
Huang Rong’s heart sank. She immediately thought of Baoxiang, who had fought her in Zhongdu.
Could this old monk be from the Western Regions’ Vajra Sect, a master or uncle of that wicked monk? However, if she could trick him out of the “Great Strength Vajra Finger,” it wouldn’t be bad.
“Tell me about it, and see if I can cultivate it.”
“You are exactly like I was in my youth. Would you be willing to follow me to Shaolin Temple? After I finish some matters, I will tell you about it.”
“Of course, I am willing.” Huang Rong buried the beggar’s chicken and said, “Master, please wait a moment. I’ll find some vegetarian dishes.”
“Good!”
Huang Rong’s figure disappeared into the forest. The monk chuckled, and like a large bird, he soared into the air, appearing and disappearing in the forest, drifting like a phantom following Huang Rong.
“Did he leave, or is he still trying to trick me out of the ‘Great Strength Vajra Finger’?” Huang Rong muttered. “Let’s go, it’s still time. But I’m not willing. Back in Zhongdu, that monk was definitely using the ‘Great Strength Vajra Finger,’ and he almost injured me. If I can trick him out of the cultivation technique, I’ll give it to Zhou Yan to cultivate. Wouldn’t it be better to use his own methods against him? Once we reach Shaoshi Mountain and see Father, it won’t be difficult to escape.”
Thinking this, Huang Rong no longer hesitated. She went straight to the market and found a restaurant. She threw down a silver ingot, prepared the ingredients herself, and after a flurry of activity, made six dishes: toon tofu, asparagus and lily, steamed Buddha’s Hand, jade rolls, and Ruyi rolls. She then took a food box from the restaurant, packed the dishes inside, and headed straight for the valley where the old monk was.
…
“Master, you’ve waited.”
Huang Rong arrived at the campfire by the river. The old monk was meditating. She grinned and took out the dishes from the food box, offering chopsticks to the old monk.
The old monk tasted them and praised their deliciousness, saying with a smile, “Ordinary restaurants and eateries don’t cook food with such flavor.”
“I cooked them myself.”
The old monk nodded. “So that’s how it is. In consideration of your sincerity, I will teach you a set of ‘Little Vajra Fist.’ The ‘Great Strength Vajra Finger’ is not suitable for you at the moment.”
Huang Rong’s eyes narrowed slightly. She thought, how could this old monk not suspect that I cooked the food? Did he follow me? What a cunning old fellow. Only then did she realize, and a cold sweat broke out. She memorized this cultivation technique of the old monk flawlessly.
The old monk was overjoyed to witness Huang Rong’s photographic memory. He had found a gem, and his trip south was not in vain. The old monk immediately told Huang Rong the cultivation method and demonstrated it once.
Huang Rong’s memory was outstanding. In just an hour, she was practicing the Little Vajra Fist with great proficiency. The old monk was delighted; he had found a treasure.
