Upon hearing this, the Thousand Buddha Hall erupted in uproar once more. While Wan Yu Yuedan's noble intentions were undeniable, the position of Shaolin's abbot was one of utmost solemnity—how could it be treated as a child's game, to be passed on so casually? Moreover, Liu Yan's whereabouts were merely rumors from the martial world—how much of such talk could be trusted? What if, after the position was handed over today, that person never appeared? Some praised Wan Yu Yuedan, the Azure Fall Palace Lord, for his willingness to sacrifice and endure humiliation for the greater good of the martial world, while others sneered at his reckless credulity. Still others watched Fang Pingzhai with schadenfreude, as the struggle for Shaolin's abbotship grew increasingly dramatic.
Liu Yan, veiled in black cloth, sat silently among the crowd without uttering a word. This was his first time seeing Wan Yu Yuedan. The famed young palace lord was different from what he had imagined—there was none of the iron-fisted, cold-blooded aura of legend. Instead, he appeared gentle and delicate, devoid of any imposing presence. And yet... he was very much like him. A surge of revulsion welled up in Liu Yan's heart as he stared coldly at Wan Yu Yuedan, faintly seeing the phantom of Tang Lici in him. A murderous intent rose unbidden, but after a moment, the killing aura in his eyes gradually faded, dissolving into nothingness.
Tang Lici had never displayed such genuine emotion. Liu Yan regarded Wan Yu Yuedan dispassionately. His words were gentle, like a soothing breeze, and though his speech seemed calculated, he did not lie. The illustrious Azure Fall Palace Lord, a leader who commanded the winds and clouds of the martial world, was surprisingly free of pretense. Those eyes, rumored to see nothing, revealed his true feelings—what he wanted, what he intended to do, what he sought to obtain, what he must obtain—he concealed none of it, unafraid of being perceived.
What he desired, he never feared he could not attain—this was the regal aura of Wan Yu Yuedan. Liu Yan watched him calmly. Unlike Tang Lici, Wan Yu Yuedan could offer others a sense of security; he himself could serve as someone's pillar. Despite his youth and lack of martial prowess, he was the support of the crowd. But A-Li... Liu Yan's gaze grew distant. A-Li was not such a person...
What A-Li sought, he never obtained...
This was the difference between them—like mirrors reflecting one another, strikingly similar yet entirely opposite.
After a hushed discussion among the Shaolin monks, Dacheng Chanshi rose to his feet and spoke slowly, "Though Wan Yu Benefactor's words stem from sincerity, the abbotship of our temple, with its centuries of prestige, cannot be relinquished so lightly. Moreover, the Benefactor is not one who has left the secular world." The crowd nodded in agreement, turning their eyes to Wan Yu Yuedan, wondering how he would respond. With a faint smile, Wan Yu Yuedan said, "If Shaolin agrees to temporarily yield the abbotship, Wan Yu Yuedan will immediately shave his head, take monastic vows, and pledge allegiance to Shaolin."
At this, Dongfang Xu couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, as did many others around him. For Wan Yu Yuedan, in his youth and as the Azure Fall Palace Lord, to speak of renouncing the world and pledging himself to Shaolin... this was truly an excessive sacrifice. Behind Wan Yu Yuedan, Tie Jing trembled slightly. Though he was taken aback by Wan Yu Yuedan's declaration of becoming a monk, he was not entirely shocked. After Wen Ren Nuan's death, Wan Yu Yuedan's life had become ascetic, so simple it was nearly devoid of turbulence. Though he did not abstain from meat or chant sutras, he was not far removed from a monastic life."This..." Dacheng Chanshi was quite troubled, hesitating in silence. Puzhu Shangshi said coldly, "Benefactor Wan Yu, the Shaolin Temple has never been exclusive. If the benefactor is willing to expound the scriptures for us and your cultivation surpasses ours, the monks of Shaolin will naturally revere you." Wan Yu Yuedan smiled, "Then let us still discuss the Buddha-heart. What say you?" Puzhu Shangshi replied slowly, "I would like to hear the details." Wan Yu Yuedan clasped his hands in a salute to him, "Like the moon, clear and bright, suspended in the void, untainted by desire—this is called the Brahmin." Puzhu Shangshi was slightly taken aback, but someone nearby spoke up, "Hey, I wonder if any of you have heard this story?"
All eyes turned to Fang Pingzhai, who had been standing before Puzhu and Wan Yu Yuedan, waving his red fan. Now, the fan stopped. "There was a small fox, greenish-yellow in color, resembling a dog, that made sounds neither wolf nor dog. One day, this fox declared itself a lion and occupied a patch of forest. Yet, it still survived by digging up mouse holes and graves to eat mice and corpses. When it tried to roar like a lion, the sound it produced was still neither wolf nor dog. This story comes from the eleventh volume of the Dīrgha Āgama. I wonder, esteemed monks and this young friend who recites Buddhist verses, do you know the name of this little fox?"
Wan Yu Yuedan said, "Oh... Could the red-fan-wielding gentleman be referring to the jackal?" Fang Pingzhai replied indifferently, "The jackal proclaims itself a lion, dominating an empty forest. Attempting a lion's roar, it still sounds like a jackal. The Martial Arts World is vast as the sea, and the Shaolin Temple is but a grain of sand within it. Even if the abbot of Shaolin is virtuous and esteemed, his rallying cry is merely the roar of a jackal, deluding itself into thinking it is a lion. To earn trust, admiration, respect, and reverence, one must demonstrate courage and sincerity. Today, the three of us jackals shall attempt a lion's roar within the Thousand Buddha Hall. Whoever ultimately claims to be the lion must not forget that a jackal remains a jackal—beyond this world lies another, and the true lion is never before us but beyond the heavens." Puzhu Shangshi's eyes gleamed, while Wan Yu Yuedan smiled faintly. "The red-fan-wielding gentleman indeed possesses bold spirit. Then let Shaolin set the challenge, and we shall accept it."
Dacheng Chanshi sighed slowly. "From your words, it is clear you are all well-versed in Buddhist scriptures. The two benefactors are skilled in debate, but the discussion of Buddhist doctrines is unnecessary. The Buddha-heart is not found in words but in daily actions, in every flower and tree. This old monk believes whether the three of you are sincerely devoted to Buddhism is a matter for all present to judge. If you must compete, let it be in martial arts." His voice was calm, devoid of agitation. "Shaolin has always practiced martial arts solely for self-defense. Today, at the Abbot Assembly, we do not wish to see bloodshed. Therefore, if you must compete, let it be with a single move."
A single move? Dongfang Xu grew increasingly puzzled. For the selection of Shaolin's abbot, they would compete with just one move? What move could it be? A sidelong glance revealed Yu Tuan'er's equally bewildered expression—one move? Fang Pingzhai's martial skills were not weak, Puzhu Shangshi was a master, and Wan Yu Yuedan knew no martial arts at all. How could he compete with these two in a "single move"?"Can everyone see the bronze plaque hanging on the eastern beam?" Dacheng Chanshi pointed toward the roof beam on the east side. "That plaque was bestowed by Emperor Taizong Li Shimin of the Tang Dynasty. It weighs 388 jin. Whoever can strike the plaque with Shaolin’s orthodox 'Flower Pinching Technique' within the time it takes for a copper coin to fall to the ground, making it sway back and forth three times without producing a sound, will be declared the winner." Upon hearing this challenge, all the seated guests thought to themselves: What a difficult task! Forget about using the Flower Pinching Technique to make it sway three times from a distance within such a short span—even if I were to push it with my hands, I doubt I could make it sway three times in that brief moment. By setting such a challenge, Shaolin Temple clearly has great confidence in Puzhu Shangshi.
"Three times? So if it sways four or five times, does that count as a loss?" Fang Pingzhai shook his head, gazing at the mushroom-shaped bronze plaque. "Shaolin’s Flower Pinching Technique has always been formless and traceless. I once witnessed it five years ago at the Central Plains' Southern Peak Sword Association. At that time, Puzhu Shangshi had yet to make a name for himself, but his mastery of the Flower Pinching Formless Sword was truly exceptional, leaving a deep impression." His words caused another stir in the hall. Five years ago, only the most renowned figures of the time were invited to the Southern Peak Sword Association. If Fang Pingzhai had been present then, how could he have remained obscure until now, only to emerge today vying for the position of Shaolin’s abbot? Who exactly is he?
Puzhu Shangshi was momentarily taken aback. Five years ago, he had yet to step into the Martial Arts World, merely testing his skills at the Sword Association without winning the championship. Yet this man remembered his Flower Pinching Formless Sword—could he truly have been present that day? And if so, who among the attendees could he have been? "May I ask who the benefactor was at that time?" Fang Pingzhai laughed heartily. "Just a passerby. Puzhu Shangshi, please go first." With a flick of his red fan, the crowd noted that despite his verbose and irritating manner, he still carried himself with grace. Puzhu Shangshi pressed his palms together in a respectful gesture and turned to Wan Yu Yuedan. "The guest should have the first move. Palace Master Wan Yu, would you like to take the initiative?"
Wan Yu Yuedan smiled warmly and cheerfully. "I don’t know martial arts, nor do I have any idea what the Flower Pinching Technique looks like. Why don’t you teach me first, Puzhu Shangshi, and then I’ll give it a try?" The crowd was stunned once more. It was common knowledge that Wan Yu Yuedan lacked martial skills, yet here he was, asking Puzhu to teach him a move before attempting the challenge. Did he think he was some prodigy capable of mastering it instantly and surpassing all these Martial Arts World experts? It was sheer fantasy—utter nonsense!
Puzhu Shangshi frowned. "The Flower Pinching Technique has no fixed form. Outwardly, it’s merely a flick of the fingers, while inwardly, Inner Energy flows through them. The distance and strength of the energy vary depending on one’s cultivation. Palace Master Wan Yu, since you don’t practice Shaolin’s internal methods, I’m afraid I cannot teach you." Wan Yu Yuedan raised his right hand. "So it’s just a matter of flicking the fingers outward? Could you tell me the exact position of the plaque?" As a blind man, he couldn’t see the plaque, nor did he possess Internal Force. What effect could a casual flick of his hand possibly have? The crowd was both astonished and amused as Puzhu Shangshi guided Wan Yu Yuedan to face the plaque. Dacheng Chanshi held a copper coin, ready to drop it. Wan Yu Yuedan smiled at the crowd, not bothering to gather energy or assume a stance—he simply waved his hand toward the bronze plaque.His palm was pale and soft, and the gesture of raising his hand was quite elegant, yet it lacked both Internal Force and technique—it probably couldn’t even swat a mosquito. Fang Pingzhai and Puzhu Shangshi both fixed their gazes on the bronze plaque. Just as everyone thought it impossible for the plaque to move, the roof beam emitted a dull creaking sound, and the bronze plaque began to sway as if aided by divine power. With a clink , the copper coin in Dacheng Chanshi’s hand fell to the ground. The bronze plaque swayed exactly three times before coming to a complete stop.
It swayed abruptly and stopped just as abruptly—truly like a ghostly apparition. The onlookers were stunned into silence, then let out a long exhale, a chill creeping into their hearts. Could there really be ghosts in this world? Puzhu Shangshi and Fang Pingzhai exchanged glances, while Liu Yan and Yu Tuan'er were equally horrified. All these experts stared intently at Wan Yu Yuedan and the bronze plaque. How had it swayed in the first place? If someone had intervened, wouldn’t that person’s martial prowess be unimaginably formidable?
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