105: Chapter 105 People from the Shaolin Temple
From Longhu Mountain to Shaolin Temple, it spanned half of the Central Plains.
They traveled for five days.
During these five days, Zhang Lingyun and Jiang Yichen hardly spoke a word.
It wasn't that they didn't speak, but that there was no need to.
Every morning, the two would each find a spot to meditate. They traveled at noon and rested at night. Occasionally, they would exchange a glance and a nod, which counted as communication.
Zhang Qingyuan watched them and couldn't help but ask Lu Mingyuan:
"Master, do those two have a grudge against each other?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
"No grudge."
Zhang Qingyuan was puzzled.
"Then why don't they talk?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"Swordsmen and Talisman Masters are naturally men of few words."
Zhang Qingyuan looked at Bai Ze.
Bai Ze rolled its eyes.
"Don't look at me. I don't understand either."
It paused.
"However, those who don't speak are often more reliable than those who talk too much."
Zhang Qingyuan nodded, half-understanding.
On the evening of the fifth day, they arrived at Shaoshi Mountain.
The mountain was still the same mountain, and the temple was still the same temple; Shaolin Temple in the twilight was solemn and majestic, with the sound of bells echoing slowly.
Lu Mingyuan stood before the mountain gate, gazing at the familiar stone steps, reminiscing about what happened five years ago.
Chapter 41, Deep Snow on Shaoshi. He had stood here for a day and a night, waiting for a Zen Master named Huijue to see him.
Back then, he was only at the Foundation Establishment stage and understood nothing; his legs had gone numb from standing in the snow.
Now he stood here with several more people by his side.
Bai Ze walked up to him.
"What are you dazing about?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
"Nothing. Let's go in."
He stepped toward the mountain gate.
The warrior monk guarding the gate saw him, froze for a moment, and then pressed his palms together.
"Benefactor is..."
Lu Mingyuan returned the gesture.
"I am Lu Mingyuan, seeking an audience with Senior Brother Fa Ming."
The warrior monk looked at him, then at the people behind him—Zhang Lingyun, Jiang Yichen, Zhang Qingyuan, and that snow-white Divine Beast.
He hesitated for a moment.
"Please wait a moment, this poor monk will go and report."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Thank you for your trouble."
After waiting for fifteen minutes, Fa Ming came out.
He looked exactly as he did five years ago—shaved head, monk robes, and barefoot. There was mud on his feet, looking as if he had just come from the fields.
He smiled when he saw Lu Mingyuan.
The smile was faint and warm, like winter sunlight.
"You've come."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"I've come."
Fa Ming looked at him, his gaze lingering on him for a long time.
"You've changed."
Lu Mingyuan also looked at him.
"You've changed too."
Fa Ming shook his head.
"I haven't changed. I'm still the same."
He looked at the people behind Lu Mingyuan.
"And these are?"
Lu Mingyuan introduced them one by one.
"Zhang Lingyun, a Talisman Master from Longhu Mountain. Jiang Yichen, a swordsman from Mount Qingcheng. Zhang Qingyuan, my Disciple. Bai Ze, my Divine Beast."
Fa Ming looked at Bai Ze and was stunned for a moment.
"Bai Ze? The ancient Divine Beast Bai Ze?"
Bai Ze nodded.
"It is I."
Fa Ming pressed his palms together.
"This poor monk, Fa Ming, greets Senior."
Bai Ze looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
"You... don't cultivate spiritual power?"
Fa Ming nodded.
"Yes. This poor monk only cultivates Zen Martial Arts."
Bai Ze was silent for a while.
Then, it said something.
"Interesting."
Fa Ming smiled and didn't press further.
He turned to Lu Mingyuan.
"You came to find me, is there something the matter?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"There is."
He paused.
"The Northwest Rift needs people."
Fa Ming looked at him, his gaze calm.
"I know."
Lu Mingyuan was startled.
"You know?"
Fa Ming nodded.
"Master told me."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Three days ago, Master called me over and said one thing."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"What did he say?"
Fa Ming said softly:
"He said—'Someone is coming to call for you, go with him.'"
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
Three days ago?
Three days ago, he was still at Longhu Mountain and had just met Zhang Lingyun.
How did the Zen Master of Shaoshi Mountain know he was coming?
Fa Ming looked at him.
"Master also said another thing."
Lu Mingyuan looked at him.
"What?"
Fa Ming said softly:
"He said—'That person is a traveler. If you follow him, you won't go wrong.'"
Silence.
A long silence.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, gazing at the thousand-year-old ancient temple, at the upturned eaves in the twilight, and into Fa Ming's calm eyes.
He remembered five years ago, in Chapter 41, when Zen Master Huijue asked him: "Why does the snow fall?"
He couldn't answer.
Huijue said: "Snow just falls."
Standing here now, he suddenly understood those words.
Snow just falls.
People just walk.
What should come will naturally come. What should go will naturally go.
He looked at Fa Ming.
"Are you willing to come?"
Fa Ming nodded.
"I am."
He paused.
"However, there is something I must finish first."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"What is it?"
Fa Ming turned and walked toward the temple interior.
"Follow me."
Fa Ming led them through several courtyards to a small one.
Above the courtyard gate hung a plaque with three characters—"Shizhuang Courtyard".
Lu Mingyuan looked at the plaque, his heart stirred.
Chapter 41, the first time he came to Shaolin Temple, he was brought to this courtyard by the monk Jingchen. Back then, he didn't know what was hidden in this courtyard.
Fa Ming pushed open the courtyard gate.
In the courtyard, there was an old locust tree. Beneath the tree was a bluestone, and on the bluestone sat a stone pillar.
The stone pillar wasn't large, only as tall as a man, and was covered in carved scriptures. Those scriptures had been blurred by wind and rain, but if one looked closely, a few characters could still be recognized.
Fa Ming walked to the stone pillar and knelt down.
Lu Mingyuan stood behind him without speaking.
Fa Ming knelt for a long time.
Then, he spoke.
"Master, your Disciple is leaving."
His voice was soft and calm.
"You said back then that those of the Shizhuang Courtyard can leave or stay. Those who leave go to travel. Those who stay guard the courtyard."
He paused.
"Your Disciple wishes to travel."
The stone pillar gave no response.
The wind blew, and the leaves of the old locust tree rustled.
Fa Ming knelt for a while longer.
Then, he stood up and turned to look at Lu Mingyuan.
"Let's go."
Lu Mingyuan looked at him.
"Is that it?"
Fa Ming nodded.
"It's done."
He stepped toward the exit of the courtyard.
As he walked out of the gate, he suddenly stopped.
He looked back at the old locust tree, the bluestone, and the stone pillar.
Then, he said softly:
"Master, your Disciple is leaving."
Having said that, he strode away.
By the time they left Shaolin Temple, it was already dark.
They found a place at the foot of the mountain to rest.
A fire was lit, and Zhang Qingyuan took out dry rations to share with everyone.
Fa Ming sat by the fire, staring at the flames without a word.
Zhang Lingyun and Jiang Yichen still didn't speak, each closing their eyes to rest their spirits.
Bai Ze lay not far away, eyes closed as if asleep.
Lu Mingyuan sat beside Fa Ming.
"Reluctant to leave?"
Fa Ming was silent for a while.
"It's not that I'm reluctant."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"I just remembered some things."
Lu Mingyuan didn't press further.
Fa Ming continued on his own.
"I entered Shaolin Temple at the age of seven and was adopted by Master. Master said he picked me up from the foot of the mountain; that day, heavy snow blocked the mountain, and I was on the verge of freezing to death."
He paused.
"Master held me in his arms and warmed me for a whole night before I finally came around."
"Later, I asked Master why he saved me. Master said, snow just falls, and people just live. When you see someone about to die, save them if you can. Don't ask why."
Lu Mingyuan listened without speaking.
Fa Ming continued:
"I've lived in Shaolin Temple for twenty-three years. I learned Chan, martial arts, sweeping, and cooking. Master said cultivation isn't on the mountain, but under one's feet. Yet, I have never once descended the mountain."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Tell me, can someone like me travel?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"You can."
Fa Ming looked at him.
"Why?"
Lu Mingyuan said softly:
"Because traveling doesn't require any special skills. You just need to walk."
He looked at Fa Ming.
"It's like what your Master said—snow just falls, and people just live. Traveling is the same. The road is just a road, and people just walk."
Fa Ming was stunned.
He looked at Lu Mingyuan for a very long time.
Then, he smiled.
The smile was faint and warm, like winter sunlight.
"What you said is exactly what Master said."
Lu Mingyuan also smiled.
"Is it?"
Fa Ming nodded.
"Yes."
He looked at the firelight.
"Master said that those who travel don't ask about the road, the destination, or the reason. They just walk. When the day comes that they can walk no further, they will naturally know."
He paused.
"I didn't understand before. Now, I seem to understand a little."
The night deepened.
The fire gradually died out.
Zhang Qingyuan fell asleep, letting out light snores.
Zhang Lingyun and Jiang Yichen were still resting their spirits, their breathing steady.
Fa Ming sat cross-legged, facing the direction of Shaolin Temple, motionless.
Bai Ze opened its eyes, glanced at him, and closed them again.
Lu Mingyuan sat there, gazing at the night sky.
The stars were numerous and bright, like countless eyes watching over them.
He remembered the words of the Queen Mother of the West—"Remember those who died, and the things you never obtained."
He thought of Goudan, the four Golden Core Cultivators, and the ordinary people killed by the demon soldiers.
He thought of Daoist Songyun's words—"When you reach the end, you will naturally know."
He thought of Fa Ming's Master's words—"Snow just falls, and people just live."
He thought of what he himself had said—"A traveler does not walk alone."
He looked at the people around him.
Zhang Lingyun, Jiang Yichen, Zhang Qingyuan, Fa Ming, and Bai Ze.
Five. No, four plus one Divine Beast.
Including himself, there were five.
Five people willing to walk together.
He looked at the night sky and suddenly smiled.
Bai Ze opened its eyes.
"What are you laughing at?"
Lu Mingyuan said softly:
"I'm laughing at how foolish I used to be."
Bai Ze looked at him.
"How so?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"I used to think that traveling was a solitary journey. Now I know that traveling is something many people do together."
He looked at Bai Ze.
"One person walking alone cannot go far. Only when many people walk together can they reach the distant horizon."
Bai Ze was silent for a while.
Then, it said:
"You finally understand."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Yes. I finally understand."
Early the next morning, they continued on their journey.
Fa Ming walked beside Lu Mingyuan, his bare feet stepping on the stones without feeling any discomfort.
Zhang Lingyun and Jiang Yichen walked behind, still silent.
Zhang Qingyuan carried the heart lamp and walked at the very back, occasionally looking back at the path they had come from.
Bai Ze walked at the front, sniffing as it went, as if scouting the way.
After walking a long way, Fa Ming suddenly asked:
"Where is the next stop?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"Yuelu Academy."
Fa Ming nodded.
"Yuelu Academy, one of the Three Academies of Confucianism."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Is there someone there as well?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Yes. Someone named Li Haoran."
Fa Ming was silent for a while.
"You certainly know a lot of people."
Lu Mingyuan smiled.
"Not really. I meet people as I travel. Those I meet, if they can walk with me, we walk together."
Fa Ming nodded.
"That makes sense."
He paused.
"Then in the future, will we meet even more people?"
Lu Mingyuan gazed ahead.
"We will."
He said softly:
"As long as we keep walking, we will keep meeting people."
Fa Ming also gazed ahead.
Ahead were continuous mountains, winding roads, and the invisible distance.
But he knew that no matter how far it was, as long as they kept walking, they would eventually arrive.
Because travelers do not ask about the road, the destination, or the reason.
They just walk.
Walking until the day they can walk no further.
Walking until the day they naturally know.
He stepped forward.
He walked quickly and steadily, without looking back.
Behind him, the sound of Shaolin Temple's bells echoed slowly.
He did not look back.
He knew that it was his Master seeing him off.
Seeing him off on his journey.
Seeing him off on the path he was meant to take.