Chapter 244: Shaolin Temple Ablaze
A perfectly round sunset clung to the desert’s horizon, casting the land into a dim hue. The desert waves appeared frozen in sight, like a sleeping sea.
“Chief Escort, the guide has arrived.”
Hooves clattered, kicking up large clouds of dust on the ground. Following Liang Xiaowu was a gaunt Uyghur man riding a camel.
Past noon, the escort team from Jiuyuan arrived at the edge of the Tengger Desert, setting up camp to rest.
Two routes lay before Zhang Wangyue and the others.
One was to continue along the Yellow River, but this would lead them deep into the Western Xia Kingdom, which was clearly not a wise move. The other was to traverse the desert, taking the escort team directly to Ganzhou, which was Zhangye, a place Zhou Yan was not entirely unfamiliar with. Southeast of Ganzhou was Wuwei, a city where Duan Huai’an had once paid respects to his ancestors. From Ganzhou to Yumen Pass was less than a ten-day journey.
Zhang Wangyue, Huyan Lei, Zhou Yan, and the others first arranged for the runners to scout ahead. The gathered information indicated a direct route to Ganzhou, bypassing the desert’s interior, and with a guide, it would not be difficult to travel.
After a brief discussion, they finalized the plan to traverse the desert.
Liang Xiaowu searched for a guide, while the runners procured supplies, focusing on fodder, water, blankets, and firewood for the mules and horses. They also purchased several camels to transport the supplies.
The guide dismounted from his camel. Zhou Yan asked, “From here, how long will it take to cross the desert to Ganzhou?”
“If fast, five or six days; if slow, it might drag on for a day or two.”
“Are there bandits?” Huyan Lei asked.
The Uyghur guide replied, “How could there be bandits in this desolate land? They are all around the Qilian Mountains between Wuwei and Ganzhou, where the grass and water are abundant and can sustain people. Moreover, there are many passing merchant caravans.”
“Very good,” Huyan Lei nodded.
“Can we travel at night?” Zhou Yan asked.
“Yes, guests just need to follow me.”
Zhou Yan said to Zhang Wangyue, “Set up the stove and cook. We’ll travel after we’ve eaten. Tomorrow at noon, when the sun is at its peak, we’ll set up camp to rest.”
“Understood.”
The order was passed down. The runners searched for shrubs to build campfires. A large pot was used to cook noodles, with thinly sliced beef added. After everyone had eaten, the escort team set off, plunging into the sea of sand at the southern end of the Tengger.
Mu Nianci, dressed in red and riding a red horse, looked spirited and heroic in the dusk. She covered her face with a silk scarf, smiling as she said to Zhou Yan, “From our experience in Wuwei, covering your face with a silk scarf prevents sand from getting in.”
Zhou Yan suddenly felt that the silk scarf gave the red-clad Mu Nianci a touch of exotic charm.
“I should cover my face too.” Zhou Yan took out a long scarf and wrapped it around his face, leaving only his pair of eyes, bright as stars, visible.
The two rode side by side when suddenly the sound of camel bells rang out from behind them. Zhou Yan looked back and saw Huang Rong, also with her face covered by a black scarf.
“How did you get here?”
Huang Rong pouted her small mouth from beneath the black scarf. “The Master is chanting scriptures, and I’m bored. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Once we reach Ganzhou, if we travel further west, we’ll reach the Western Regions. Tell me about the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions.”
Zhou Yan had encountered Chan Master Tiancong near Wuwei and was entrusted with delivering a letter to the Shaolin Temple. At Shaoshi Mountain, he had also asked Ku Cheng if there was a letter escort to send, and the Abbot had said not to trouble the escort bureau, as the Shaolin Temple could dispatch disciples themselves.
While Zhou Yan was traveling by Poyang Lake, Ku Cheng had already arranged for disciples to travel west. The two temples had a long-standing relationship and knew each other well.
After the battle at Shaoshi Mountain, before Zhou Yan, Zhang Wangyue, and the Tianzhu Monk left, they visited Ku Cheng at the temple. The Abbot of Shaolin Temple spoke of the past escape of Huo Gong Toutuo and how Ku Hui Chan Master, the head of the Arhat Hall, had gone to the Western Regions to establish the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions.
Therefore, Zhou Yan had a good understanding of the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions.
When Huang Rong asked, he replied, “The Abbot of the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions is Ku Cheng’s junior brother, Ku Hui. In terms of scale, the temple cannot compare to Shaolin of Songshan, with over three hundred monks, nearly a third of whom are martial monks. It has a Dharma Hall and an Arhat Hall, headed by Chan Masters Tianlong and Tianxiang respectively. When Chan Master Ku Hui went to the Western Regions, many exceptionally gifted monks accompanied him, so the strength of the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions is quite considerable.”
“I see. This is likely one of the reasons for the decline of Shaolin of Songshan.”
“Indeed, but the main reason is that Shaolin Temple has not produced any exceptionally talented individuals. The Seventy-Two Unique Skills in the Shaolin Temple’s Sutra Depository are all top-tier peerless skills that Jianghu people dream of. Huo Gong Toutuo, by merely stealing them, achieved an extremely high level of martial arts. If there were martial arts talents with peculiar aptitudes like Toutuo, how could Shaolin Temple be without successors?”
“That is true,” Huang Rong nodded. Martial arts cultivation is like this; while diligence can compensate for lack of skill, sometimes years of arduous practice by those with ordinary talent are not as effective as a flash of insight from someone with extraordinary talent.
“Escort, does the Shaolin Temple truly have the ‘Seventy-Two Unique Skills’?” Mu Nianci asked.
“Of course.”
“Escort, tell us about them.”
“Specifically, I only know one or two from Master Ku Cheng’s words, such as Great Strength Vajra Palm, Great Strength Vajra Finger, Vajra Prajna Palm, Kasaya Subduing Demon Skill…”
The vast yellow sand, dust like solitary smoke. Zhou Yan recounted the Shaolin Temple’s peerless skills he had seen at Shaoshi Mountain and some of Master Ku Cheng’s descriptions. Huang Rong and Mu Nianci listened intently. In front of them, Liang Xiaowu and the others at the head of the escort team had already walked into the setting sun.
…
Western Regions, west of the Kunlun Mountains.
The temple complex was spread across a valley and two slopes named Lotus Mountain. The halls were arranged at varying heights, complementing each other, creating a magnificent spectacle. The central grand hall, with its scale-like buildings, had green walls and golden tiles, resplendent and magnificent. The eaves were decorated with gilded cloud patterns and dripping lotus petals. The flying ridges were adorned with pagodas and a pair of “flame palms.” The four corners were equipped with vajra corner beasts and bronze bells, and the base was a glazed brick wall. The Buddha statues inside were lifelike and beautiful, transcendent and sacred.
The entire temple complex, in terms of its architectural layout, possessed both the grandeur of the Central Plains and the simple, profound style of the Western Regions.
At dusk, the clouds in the sky were crimson, like hanging flames.
The giant bell in the temple rang out, its “dang dang” sound echoing through the mountains. Monks emerged in single file from their monastic cells, turning prayer wheels and proceeding in an orderly fashion to the Buddha hall for chanting.
An old monk, clad in a bright yellow kasaya, walked out of the Chan courtyard. He appeared to be of similar age to Abbot Ku Cheng of Shaolin Temple of Songshan, with white eyebrows and a white beard, exuding a calm demeanor.
As the old monk passed the Bodhi stupa, two monks in their forties, pointing at martial monks practicing nearby, approached with their palms pressed together. “Greetings, Abbot.”
“Tianlong, Tianxiang, come walk with me.”
“As you command, Abbot.”
The Fu’an escort team entered the desert. Zhou Yan, Huang Rong, and Mu Nianci traveled together. Huang Rong asked about the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions, and Zhou Yan relayed information about Abbot Ku Hui, the Dharma Hall, and the head of the Arhat Hall.
The two monks before them were named Tianlong and Tianxiang. They addressed the old monk as Abbot, indicating he was indeed Ku Hui of the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions.
Spring arrived late in the Western Regions. Sparse, withered grass swayed in the chilly spring breeze.
Ku Hui walked in the vast twilight, saying, “I wonder how the Vajra Sect is doing now, and if they have moved southward.”
The monks who had accompanied Ku Hui to the Western Regions in the past were now old. Today, Tianlong, Tianxiang, and the late Chan Master Tiancong, along with many other martial monks, had either become disciples through apprenticeship or had shaved their heads from a young age to study martial arts. Most of them were from the Western Regions.
As the old Abbot finished speaking, Tianlong and Tianxiang, whose physiques clearly displayed the “Tiger Bone, Dragon Tendon, Qilin Strength,” both said, “Your disciples are willing to go and investigate.”
“Tianxiang, you go.”
“As you command.”
As the prayer wheels spun, the three walked forward. Chan Master Tianlong suddenly said, “There is something your disciple does not understand.”
“Tell me.”
“The Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions originated from the Central Plains and was once a single sect. Since the Shaolin Temple is now in trouble, why doesn’t the Abbot lead us southward to merge the two temples? This way, we can resist the Vajra Sect and allow the Shaolin Temple to regain its former glory.”
“Since we have taken root here, we should spread Buddhist teachings and save all sentient beings.”
“Your disciple understands,” Chan Master Tianlong said, pressing his palms together.
Ku Hui nodded, but inwardly sighed, “When the time is right, heaven and earth work together; when the opportunity is lost, heroes are powerless.”
The sunset faded, and dusk deepened. Little novice monks walked through the corridors and courtyards, delivering vegetarian meals to Ku Hui and the elders of the temple. The other monks gradually entered the refectory.
Chan Masters Tianlong and Tianxiang got their vegetarian meals and sat together, discussing suitable candidates to accompany them to the Vajra Sect’s location to gather information.
Deep within the mountain hollow outside the temple, one figure emerged, followed by a second, a third, then over ten, and finally hundreds…
Leading them was an old monk with grizzled beard and wrinkled face, his expression ferocious. Closely following the three monks were Baoshu, Bao Xian, and Bao Lei, and behind them were dozens of Vajra Sect martial monks and over a hundred people from the Western Regions martial world who had defected to Huo Gong Toutuo.
Among these people were monks, laymen, and Taoists, but without exception, all had ferocious expressions and an indescribable excitement.
“Master, it’s almost time for the meal. We can make our move,” Bao Xian said.
Huo Gong Toutuo smiled sinisterly and leaped up, like a great bird flying through the night. Baoshu and Bao Xian, who had not made a move at Shaoshi Mountain, followed closely, each step covering several yards. Their movements stirred up wind and thunder.
…
The orange glow of the lotus green lamp illuminated the monks eating in the refectory. Suddenly, a martial monk’s bowl and chopsticks fell onto the table. The monk swayed and collapsed to the ground.
Following closely, the monks who had eaten first began to feel dizzy, their consciousness sinking, and they fell unconscious.
“The food is poisoned,” Chan Master Tianlong said, knocking over the porcelain bowl of Chan Master Tianxiang, who had just started eating.
A cackling laugh also rapidly approached from outside the temple, “Ku Hui, I have come for revenge.”
When the voice first spoke, it was still distant, but by the time it landed, it was already outside the refectory.
A martial monk near the entrance, who hadn’t had time to eat, leaped out. In the darkness, the approaching figure swung a blade like a giant scythe. The martial monk was forced to retreat back into the refectory.
Chan Master Tianlong, the head of the Dharma Hall, surged out of the refectory with a vortex of energy. His figure in the night seemed to transform into a gray dragon. The dragon’s shadow flew through the air, its claws dancing rapidly. In just a few moves, he snatched the long saber from the Western Regions martial artist who had just delivered a stunning blow, and sent the opponent tumbling into the courtyard with a punch.
“Dragon Claw Hand!”
Huo Gong Toutuo in the courtyard grunted, inhaling like a whale devouring the sea. His muscles bulged, and his bright yellow kasaya suddenly swelled. He raised his hands in an arc to his shoulders, fingers pointing upwards, palms facing forward. His palms, as if carrying a thousand pounds, slowly pushed towards Chan Master Tianlong.
“Great Strength Vajra Palm!” Chan Master Tianlong exclaimed.
“You have good eyesight,” Huo Gong Toutuo laughed, his laughter filled with ferocity. The palm force, which could break anything, surged like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami. Chan Master Tianlong met it with his palm. In an instant, thunderous roars echoed from the courtyard to the eaves of the corridors. After blocking thirteen palms from Huo Gong Toutuo, Chan Master Tianlong “wah”ed and spat out a mouthful of blood, flying backward several yards before crashing onto a prayer wheel.
The prayer wheel, inscribed with the eight-character mantra of the Great Brightness Mantra, spun rapidly, emitting a rumbling sound.
“Senior Brother!” Tianxiang, though dizzy, ferociously lunged at Huo Gong Toutuo. Suddenly, an angry voice came from the Chan courtyard, “Go to the Sutra Depository and take the scriptures.”
Chan Master Ku Hui shot through the air, his body suddenly low, darting like a flying arrow. His right palm curved like a dragon’s claw, rapidly striking Huo Gong Toutuo’s “Zhongfu,” “Lingmen,” “Tianfu,” and “Jia Bai” acupoints. His left palm spread wide, targeting the sinews of Huo Gong Toutuo’s thighs.
“This is what a true Dragon Claw Hand is!” Huo Gong Toutuo cackled arrogantly. His palms, carrying the force of thunder and lightning, suddenly chopped down.
Thousands of green lamps before the Buddha statues of the Shaolin Temple of the Western Regions illuminated the courtyard. Ku Hui moved like a divine dragon unfurling, and retreated like a spirit snake flashing. He was as light as a wisp of cloud in the sky, yet as heavy as ten thousand mountains.
Huo Gong Toutuo’s attacks were like a surging tide and immense waves, unstoppable.
The two fought fiercely. Tianlong and Tianxiang, along with the martial monks who hadn’t eaten and weren’t poisoned, rushed towards the Sutra Depository. Then, in the dim moonlight, they engaged in a fierce battle with Baoshu, Bao Xian, and the others.
Flames suddenly erupted from multiple directions within the temple, surging with immense power and rapidly growing, illuminating the sky.
