Li Guanyi and the person in charge of Changfeng Building in Central State descended together, walking side by side to the academy. Recently, all the scholars of the academy are preparing to set off on their own paths, making the academy more bustling than before.
Some say that such a state now lacks the peace and freedom of the past.
Yet others say, the world is so chaotic, with people in great suffering, if the academy still remained as free as before, that would be the true lack of tranquility.
In these chaotic times, whether one chooses to engage with the world or live in seclusion, it’s each person’s choice, not about right or wrong. Those who engage aren’t necessarily superior, and those who avoid needn’t be called cowardly.
But if one hides here enjoying peace and freedom, and yet condescendingly speaks of the common people’s misery, claiming that scholars should stay here, they deserve a good smack to the ground.
This is what the fat monk who previously debated with the living Buddha said.
This happened when the Farmer School entered Jiangnan.
The monk asked the living Buddha if the Farmer School’s actions were too costly.
At that time, the living Buddha told him to let go, and this brat, relying on his water and fire immune Bullskin Crossed Divine Skill, obstinately held onto a cup despite boiling water, until the old living Buddha scolded him. Now, many Buddhist disciples were unwilling to engage with the world, believing monks shouldn’t be tainted by worldly affairs.
So, this brawny monk grabbed a stick and cursed "bald donkey" for a whole incense stick’s worth of time.
The old living Buddha looked at this secular disciple and asked, "Have you let go?"
The monk touched his bald head and replied:
"Disciple still doesn’t know what letting go is."
The old living Buddha still brewed tea with boiling water, letting the disciple hold a tea cup while he poured the tea. The tea boiled over quickly, but the monk’s hand remained still. The old monk asked, "Why still not let go?"
The monk replied, "Disciple is unwilling."
The old monk said, "Letting go is tranquility."
The monk replied, "Not letting go is the multitude."
This sincere monk grinned, drank the boiling tea in one gulp, and said, "I understand the Palace Master’s counsel, but staying in the academy like those who love debating scriptures like monks and Taoists isn’t what I wish to do."
"Disciple knows I should let go, but doesn’t let go."
"Knowing to let go but not doing so, in a state of having but not having, subtle indeed, who says I don’t understand the Buddhist Law?"
The old living Buddha looked at this sincere monk, eyes warm and compassionate, saying:
"To what realm has the Thirteen Cross Training reached?"
The monk patted his chest proudly, "The highest level."
"Even the five viscera and six bowels are unafraid of water and fire now."
"No wonder you dare to drink this tea."
The old monk chuckled and touched the monk’s head, saying:
"Since that’s the case, I grant you the dharma name [Thirteen]."
"A mystical water and fire rod wrapped in bronze, and a black monk’s robe, now go down. After descending the mountain, you can go to the Northern Domain. Outside this academy, I also have a quiet retreat in the Buddhist sect, where a fellow disciple, named [Wu Yin], resides."
"[Wu Yin Monk], more than a decade ago, took in a towering big man at the foot of the mountain, skilled with a heavy staff, donning a blood-stained war robe, but he was a fierce general under the Taiping Duke’s command, [Yan Xuanji], whom my fellow disciple pitied and took in."
"He also asked the innate Purple Sun Master of the Taoist sect to protect an innate breath for him, sparing him from death’s door, granting him the dharma name [Zhi Ge], cultivating in the Buddhist sect’s eighty difficulties, but broke the last one in the Chen Country’s court."
"Currently, he’s outside the Beiyu Pass, joining Yue Pengwu as a general under the Taiping Duke."
"This time, when you descend the mountain, go seek him out."
The stick monk with the dharma name Thirteen listened to this old story and agreed with a nod.
He turned and left the academy.
He paused, finally clasped his hands and asked the Central Earth’s living Buddha a question, "Palace Master, disciple has another question, does killing bar one from achieving true fruition?"
The old monk answered, "What kind of fruition do you seek?"
The stick monk pondered for a long time and replied, "Disciple doesn’t know."
"After disciple traverses this journey, upon returning to your side, I should be able to answer this question." After speaking, he hefted the water and fire rod and immediately descended. On his way out, he encountered the Marquis Qin Wu and a masked girl.
This monk, full of muscle, yet with a clear Buddha-heart, possessed the Buddhist heavenly eye insight, which lay between mystical skills and martial arts, akin to the Yin Yang Family’s Qi Observation Skill, instantly noticing something, he said:
"Congratulations, Marquis Qin Wu."
Li Guan said, "This master..."
The monk smiled and said, "I am Stick Monk Thirteen. Seeing the joy on Marquis Qin Wu’s face, you will likely reunite with old friends soon, a time for celebration indeed. I am also leaving this nonsense place, also a cause for celebration, indeed, a cause for celebration!"
He left joyfully, unable to contain his excitement.
After he left, he intended to follow the Central Earth’s old living Buddha’s guidance to the Northern Domain, to seek out that uncle-master under Yan Xuanji, but only a few days later he saw a group of bandits on the roadside plundering the people’s belongings, very ferocious.
They were already taking out knives to kill, with several corpses already lying on the road.
"I am a Sky-reaching Sect disciple, holding martial arts skills. Hand over the money and give me the daughter as a wife to calm my anger, then I’ll let you go. Otherwise, you’ll all be chopped into mince and sold as dumplings at the inn under the willow tree."
The big monk immediately drew the water and fire rod, knocked the bandits into unconsciousness, and distributed the goods among the people, pondering for a long time, and burned the visiting card personally written by the old monk, muttering to himself: