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Capítulo 47

The old monk, who had not yet crossed the river, had no time to appreciate the beautiful scenery in the rain; he was only focused on running as fast as he could.

"What great stamina!" someone whispered in admiration from under a tree by the roadside.

Upon hearing this, Wei Du's heart stirred. The speaker possessed profound inner strength and was no ordinary countryman. So he stopped and turned to look.

A tall, thin old man with a white sheepskin headscarf, wearing black trousers and a jacket, and a pipe hanging from his cloth belt, was standing under an old locust tree, sheltering from the rain, squinting at this side of the road.

"It's time to rest," Wei Du said as he walked to the tree and smiled slightly at the old man.

"This master must be Master Weidu, right? You seem to be in a hurry; your shoes are soaked through," the old man kindly reminded him.

Wei Du nodded and said, "Old monk Wei Du, do you recognize me? Judging from your accent, you don't seem to be a local?"

The old man squinted and smiled faintly, saying, "I'm here to attend the cremation ceremony at Foyai Temple. I met the monk there. Now I'm waiting for the long-distance bus to get back to Tongguan."

"Amitabha." The old monk chanted the Buddha's name, looked up at the sky, and felt that it was more important to continue on his way. What did it matter to him how much true energy the old man had?

"Beep beep..." A dilapidated long-distance bus drove up from the east and screeched to a halt in front of them.

As the old man got into the carriage, he said to Wei Du, "Master, if you are going to Tongguan, the weather is bad, so it's faster to take a carriage."

Wei Du felt the change in his pocket, put away his umbrella, and got on the bus.

There weren't many people on the bus. Wei Du sat down next to the old man. The rain gradually intensified, hitting the roof with a "pitter-patter" sound. Outside the bus window, the rain was misty and the glass was covered with a layer of fog.

"Master, you just finished presiding over the cremation ceremony and rushed off to Tongguan. You must be exhausted," the old man said with concern.

Wei Du smiled slightly and said, "Sometimes in life, we are not in control of our own destiny... What is your surname, benefactor?"

"My surname is Jia," the old man replied.

The old man dressed as a farmer was none other than Master Jia.

After parting ways with Song Diweng at Heilongtan, he stood on the Eighteen Bends of Foya Temple and saw the two men under Captain Zhang, each carrying a bulging sack, rushing down the mountain... Hmm, it seems he succeeded. These two children were indeed attracted to Foya Temple. Captain Zhang's group is much more capable than the leader's group. Of course, this is mainly due to his own strategic planning and decisive victory, Master Jia thought smugly.

Prior to this, he had arranged to meet Captain Zhang at a farmhouse in the north of Tongguan County. It was the home of one of his men, a secluded place with few people around, right next to the Tongpu Railway line.

Not long after, he saw Captain Zhang's gray van emerge from the woods and head towards Tongguan along the highway.

With the matter in Shaanxi finally settled, Master Jia leisurely strolled down the mountain, enjoying the springtime scenery of Buddha Head Cliff, and waited by the roadside for the long-distance bus to pass by.

Just then, a light rain began to fall. In the distance, an old monk could be seen hurrying down the mountain from Buddha Head Mountain. Upon closer inspection, he recognized him as Abbot Weidu of Foyai Temple. Master Jia immediately understood that this old monk must have come out to look for the two children. Yidu and Weidu were fellow disciples, and perhaps he was also a tomb keeper... So he called out to Abbot Weidu, trying to find out what the old monk was saying.

The dilapidated long-distance bus bumped along the road, thick black smoke billowing from its rear.

“Master, I also participated in the cremation ceremony. The relic of the eminent monk Yidu was truly an eye-opener. I have been a lay Buddhist for many years, observing vegetarianism and worshipping Buddha. I wonder if my old bones will also have a few relics after I die?” Master Jia asked, pretending to be very devout.

“Have good thoughts, do good deeds, and refrain from all evil. You will surely reap good results. Shariputra is the emptiness of all dharmas. It is neither born nor dies, neither defiled nor pure, neither increases nor decreases. Form is not different from emptiness, emptiness is not different from form. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness are also like this. Amitabha.” The old monk who had not yet been saved answered earnestly.

Master Jia chuckled inwardly upon hearing this. Most old monks were utterly pedantic, perhaps dulled by their time in the temple, ignorant of the ways of the world, only knowing how to recite a few verses from scriptures, seeking only detachment from the world, not concern for worldly affairs. Little did they know that in today's society, where could one find an ideal place of tranquility? Who could truly escape the pursuit of eating, drinking, sleeping, fame, and fortune…

“Master Weidu, I have a question I would like to ask you,” Master Jia said with a chuckle.

“Please speak,” Wei Du replied.

"Those ten or so white, jade-like relics after Master Yidu's cremation must be tooth and bone relics," said Master Jia.

Upon hearing this, the old monk Weidu was greatly surprised and said, "Benefactor Jia has excellent eyesight; you were able to recognize that it is a tooth and bone relic."

“It’s very simple,” Master Jia said solemnly. “Master Yidu must have had secrets to keep during his lifetime, which is why he rarely spoke of them. For decades, he consciously kept his jaw clenched, causing a large amount of calcium to accumulate in the roots and crowns of his teeth, which then crystallized into relics under high temperatures, right?”

Upon hearing this, Wei Du's expression changed drastically: "Benefactor Jia, who exactly are you?"

Master Jia smiled faintly and replied, "Fenglingdu Hermit."

Chapter Sixty-Eight

"Puff, puff..." Two thick plumes of black smoke shot out from the exhaust pipe at the rear of the long-distance bus, and the engine stalled in an instant.

"Damn it, this piece of junk is broken again," the driver cursed viciously, then turned around and shouted to the passengers, "Fellow villagers, I'm really sorry, this piece of junk has broken down. Fortunately, we're not far from Tongguan County, so you'll have to walk."

The passengers argued for a while, but eventually had no choice but to get off the bus and walk along the road toward the county town. At that moment, the rain stopped, a ray of sunlight shone through the clouds, and a rainbow arched across the sky, beneath which lay the new county town of Tongguan.

The ancient Tongguan Pass, once a place of battle and cavalry, was demolished thirty years ago to make way for the Sanmenxia Reservoir. The current Tongguan County town was formerly called Wucun, a field. Today, the elderly still often reminisce about the simple and rustic ancient Tongguan town, filled with the aroma of roujiamo (Chinese hamburger).

On the banks of the Jin Gou River, the old monk who had not yet crossed the river stood silently, his robes fluttering in the breeze. His face was solemn. About ten feet away, on the opposite side stood Master Jia, a thin and solitary figure.

“Benefactor Jia, I am deeply grateful for the fact that you sent the body of Master Yidu to Foya Temple. However, what is the purpose of all this that you have orchestrated behind the scenes?” the old monk Weidu said calmly.

“Hehe,” Master Jia smiled calmly and said, “I just saw that the eminent monk Yidu had died an unjust death and was buried in the wilderness. I couldn’t stand up for justice, so I did this good deed in hopes of a good outcome. That one-eyed Taoist priest Fei Ziyun from the Jiexiu Daluo Palace was the murderer who secretly shot and attacked Yidu. He is despised by people in the martial arts world, so I sent this letter to warn the master.”

Wei Du nodded and said, "That's right, but is that all you're after, Benefactor Jia? With your skills, you are no ordinary person. Why are you hiding here in anonymity? What else do you want?"

Master Jia smiled and nodded, saying, "That's right, Master Weidu has keen insight. I'll be frank, you and Master Yidu are fellow disciples. Monks don't lie, so you're probably a tomb keeper too?"

The old monk Weidu was taken aback, his sharp gaze fixed on Daoist Jia, and he slowly said, "What makes you say that, Benefactor Jia?"

Master Jia said with a solemn expression, "'Feng Hou Mausoleum' is a treasure of China's five thousand years of civilization. Article 1 of the National Cultural Relics Law stipulates that 'all cultural relics on the ground, underground, and in the territorial waters of the People's Republic of China belong to the state.' Although you and Master Yidu are the guardians of the mausoleum, that is, after all, an agreement left over from feudal society. Guo Pu, or even the dynasties of the past and even the Buddhist sect, no one can be above the laws of the new China. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The old monk was secretly surprised and asked, "Benefactor Jia, were you sent by the state?"

Master Jia smiled but remained silent.

The old monk turned and left, but the benefactor Jia spoke sharply, citing the Vinaya and the law, leaving him with no way to answer. The phrase "a monk does not lie" put him in a dead end. He could neither admit that he was wrong nor deny that he was wrong, so he had no choice but to remain silent.

"Master Weidu, you're rushing on your way, is it because of those two children?" Master Jia's clear voice came from behind.

Wei Du stopped in his tracks, slowly turned around, and said quietly, "Benefactor Jia, what did you say?"

“The Master should naturally know what I’m talking about,” Master Jia replied.

"Where is the child?" the old monk asked calmly.

"So, Master, you admit to being the tomb keeper?" Master Jia chuckled.

The old monk, who had not yet been saved, remained silent.

Master Jia sighed, “The Master’s silence is tantamount to acquiescence. Alas, have you not heard the saying, ‘Four hundred and eighty temples in the South, how many pavilions are shrouded in mist and rain…’ Turning the pages of Chinese religious history, whenever one opposes the imperial court, the consequences are always disastrous. The Cultural Revolution has only been over for a little over ten years, and the Master has survived this ordeal. Has he already forgotten the lessons of the past?”

"Benefactor Jia, this old monk is asking where your child is?" The old monk, suppressing his anger, said as calmly as possible.

"Well, I'm looking for it too, but if the master is willing to cooperate with me, the chances of finding it will greatly increase," Master Jia said hesitantly.

“If you are unwilling to speak, how can I force you? If I am unwilling to speak, you cannot force me. I will take my leave.” The old monk Weidu put his palms together and then turned to leave.

These old monks are both stubborn and pedantic, Master Jia thought to himself. He quickly said, "Master Weidu, how about we make a bet? If you win, I'll tell you the clues about the children, how about it?"

Wei Du slowed his pace and answered without turning his head, "How do we gamble?"

"If you lose, the master must tell me the location of 'Feng Hou's Tomb'." Master Jia focused his energy in his dantian, and his voice was low. Although he had already traveled more than ten zhang before crossing the river, his voice was as if it were right next to his ear.

"Such profound internal strength..." the old monk Weidu thought to himself. He had been exceptionally talented since childhood, mastering the "Five Forms of Bodhidharma," and his skill even surpassed that of his senior brother Yidu. However, he had never fought anyone before, because he had never encountered anyone who could match him. Now, the profound internal strength displayed by Master Jia had ignited his competitive spirit, so Weidu stopped again and turned around.

Master Jia was secretly pleased. The old monk had finally taken the bait. However, Master Weidu was not a bad person. He didn't need to fight him directly and accidentally kill him.

“Master, do you see this river? It’s about several tens of feet wide from here to the other side. Let’s cross the river by hand. Whoever falls into the water loses, how about it?” Master Jia said, pointing to the Yigou River, which was covered with reeds on the bank.

Wei Du smiled faintly and said, "It's a deal."

"Who wants to go first?" Master Jia asked.

“Since you have drawn the line, I will naturally go first,” the old monk Weidu replied.

“Very well, it's in accordance with the rules of the martial world, so I'll take my leave first.” After saying that, Master Jia shook his arms and activated his innate qi cultivation. In an instant, his true qi filled his body, and his entire trousers and jacket bulged out like a balloon.

"The Quanzhen School's Primordial Qi Gong!" the unenlightened monk exclaimed.

With a loud shout, Master Jia's round body suddenly rose from the ground and plunged into the river. He then hopped forward and soon reached the other side.

"Hehe, Master Weidu, it's up to you now." Master Jia said smugly from the opposite bank, his voice still ringing in my ears.

The old monk, who had not yet crossed the river, smiled faintly, casually plucked a reed from the bank, tossed it into the water, and then floated diagonally through the air, landing gently on the reed without causing a ripple. The reed, in fact, resembled a small boat, propelled by the old monk's inner energy, floating on the water like a dragon, heading straight for the other shore… His movements were elegant and graceful, fleeting like a glimpse of a startled swan, like the goddess of the Luo River described by Gu Kaizhi of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, inspiring endless contemplation.

"Crossing the river on a single reed..." Master Jia gasped.

The Buddhist martial art "Bodhidharma's Five Forms" was created by Bodhidharma, who attained enlightenment after nine years of solitary meditation facing a wall in the Bodhidharma Cave on Shaoshi Mountain. This art is rarely seen in the world. It consists of five forms: Crossing the River on a Reed, Facing the Wall for Nine Years, Standing in the Snow with a Severed Arm, Shadow Piercing Through Stone, and Returning West with a Single Shoe. While there are many martial arts styles in the Central Plains, only "Bodhidharma's Five Forms" are achieved entirely through enlightenment, without relying on diligent practice. This aligns with the essence of Bodhidharma's Zen philosophy of "sudden enlightenment to Buddhahood," without the need for daily chanting of "Amitabha."

Bodhidharma, whose full name is Bodhidharma, was a Brahmin from South India. He is the founder of the Chinese Chan (Zen) school of Buddhism, hence the Chinese Chan school is also known as the Bodhidharma school. During the Southern Dynasties, Bodhidharma came to the Central Plains, crossed the Yangtze River on a reed, and went north to Luoyang. Later, he meditated facing a wall for nine years at Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, and then passed on his robe and bowl to Huike. The Bodhidharma Chan school "directly points to the mind, sees one's true nature and becomes a Buddha, does not rely on written words, and is a special transmission outside of scriptures." Through the vigorous promotion by the Second Patriarch Huike, the Third Patriarch Zengcan, the Fourth Patriarch Daoxin, the Fifth Patriarch Hongren, and the Sixth Patriarch Huineng, it finally blossomed into five branches, flourishing in the secret garden and becoming the largest school of Chinese Buddhism. Later generations revered Bodhidharma as the founder of the Chinese Chan school and Shaolin Temple as the ancestral temple of the Chinese Chan school.

The story of Bodhidharma crossing the river on a reed is well-known in the Central Plains. When Master Jia saw the monk Weidu breaking off a reed and floating across the river, he naturally blurted out the story. However, he did not know that there was a peerless martial art called "Bodhidharma's Five Styles" in Buddhism.

"The monk has lost!" Master Jia clapped his hands and shouted.

The old monk, who had not yet crossed the river, leaped ashore and asked in bewilderment, "How did I lose?"

Master Jia declared confidently, "I've already stated that we must cross the river barehanded..."

"This humble Taoist?" the old monk Weidu asked in surprise. Although he had already guessed that this benefactor Jia was no ordinary person and that he was using the Quanzhen Sect's top martial art, "Innate Qi Gong," he still couldn't help but be taken aback when he heard benefactor Jia utter the words "this humble Taoist."

“Hehe,” Master Jia realized he had let something slip, so he didn’t hide it anymore and said, “I am Jia Shiming, the abbot of Baiyun Temple in the capital of Quanzhen Sect.”

"Jia Shiming?" The old monk Weidu was obsessed with martial arts and knew about the Quanzhen Sect's innate qi cultivation techniques, but he knew very little about the people and affairs of the martial arts world, so he did not know.

When Master Jia saw that the old monk who had not yet been ferried had never heard of him, he couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. But then he quickly changed the subject and said, "Old monk, since you used reeds to help you cross the river, you are not doing it barehanded. If you are not doing it barehanded, then you have lost."

“This old monk is unarmed,” the unfulfilled monk argued, spreading his hands.

“No,” Master Jia asserted.

“My hands are empty, so I am unarmed. Since I am unarmed, I cannot lose.” The old monk Weidu was naturally quick-witted and immediately learned Jia Shiming’s theory.

Seeing that the stubborn old monk would not back down if the argument continued, and that he had to convince him completely, Master Jia waved his hand and said, "Very well, you and I are both unarmed, so how about we call it a draw?"

“Of course,” the old monk agreed.

Chapter Sixty-Nine of the Main Text

Master Jia pondered to himself, "This old monk, though his movements are graceful and his posture extremely elegant, is like flowery, ineffective martial arts. He might be passable at crossing a calm stream by breaking off a reed leaf, but if it comes to endurance, he'll definitely lose to me. My innate internal energy cultivation technique was refined and condensed by the Quanzhen Sect's founder, Wang Chongyang, through countless battles. Its explosive power and endurance are among the best in the Central Plains, far beyond what this monk in a small temple in this desolate mountain area can compare to..."

"Whoosh..." The sound of a train whistle came from afar. A steam train was traveling from east to west along the Longhai Railway, belching white smoke. Immediately, Master Jia had an idea.

"Old monk, how about we have a footwork contest this time?" Master Jia said.

"As you see fit," the old monk replied.

“Alright, look, just a few miles to the west is Tongguan County. There’s a train heading west right now, about to cross the Jingou Bridge. This humble monk and I will race against the train. Whoever reaches Tongguan County first wins. Do you dare to challenge me?” Master Jia challenged.

"What if the train arrives first?" asked the old monk who had not yet been saved.

“We’re still even,” Master Jia replied.

"It's a deal." Before the old monk had finished speaking, his body shot out like an arrow. Since Jia Shiming had crossed the river first, it was naturally his turn to run first this time.

"What a cunning old monk..." Master Jia hurriedly used his innate qi to catch up.