Wang Chong's thoughts turned ruthless, but then a twinge of guilt struck him. He thought to himself, *Tie Mingzhu is innocent after all. How can I kill her just to save my own skin?*
*Or should I try Eileen Chang's Lust, Caution theory?*
*Perhaps after doing this, that, and then that again, her soul will achieve transcendence, and she'll be able to keep the secret?*
*Mm, quite a dilemma!*
*Why is it so hard to be a good person?*
*Being the villain is so much simpler—both are effortless choices.* Wang Chong's mind was teeming with thoroughly scandalous notions. His conscience recoiled from murder, yet sparing her compromised his principles.
Each of the three was lost in their own thoughts, and for a time the atmosphere grew exceedingly awkward. In the end, Nan Xinlan gathered her courage and spoke. "Having suffered such an ordeal, I have no face left to go on living. Yet mindful of my parents still in this world, I cannot bear to take my own life. I wish only to enter the Buddhist monastery, passing the rest of my days beside an ancient temple's green lamp. Sister Mingzhu feared something might happen to me, so she journeyed with me all this way, urging me not to act rashly.
"Yet turning it over in my mind again and again, there is simply no way left for me in this life!" At this point, sorrow welled up from deep within Nan Xinlan, and she broke into inconsolable weeping.
Wang Chong had a terrible headache. He was truly no good at handling this sort of thing!
Besides, he was a transmigrator. For modern women, having a few ex-boyfriends was utterly trivial. No one cried or sought to end their lives over it, nor did they need any comforting; they ate and drank as usual, and they would not even spare a pleasant face for prospective fallback guys, never lowering their standards for anyone.
Persuading her to become a nun certainly felt wrong, yet persuading her not to...
After fretting for a moment, Wang Chong suddenly attained enlightenment and felt at ease. What in the world did this damned mess have to do with him? He smiled faintly and said, "The road of life is long, and this is merely a momentary bump. Years from now, Miss Nan, when you look back upon it with composure, it will be nothing more than a vexing gust of autumn wind."
Nan Xinlan had never tasted such rich chicken soup for the soul. Stunned for a moment, she fell into deep contemplation.
Tie Mingzhu listened in great astonishment, musing inwardly, *This lecher actually possesses a touch of literary flair!*
Wang Chong thought, *It is unwise to tangle with them any longer. I should make an excuse to part ways, then trail them from behind and act as the opportunity arises.*
He offered a gentle smile and said, "I came out in the dead of night to practice my martial arts. Now that daylight has fully broken, I was just about to head back. Would you two care to walk together?"
Nan Xinlan was naturally unwilling, and Tie Mingzhu dared even less to accept. Once both women clearly declined, Wang Chong departed with easy grace. He dashed several li away using his lightness skill. Glancing back to confirm that no one was watching, he immediately reversed direction at full speed. Within half an incense stick's time, he had already caught up with the two women.
Wang Chong's lightness skill was consummate. Lately, he had encountered quite a few masters—such as Qian Luo Yi, Monk Xuan Gang, Su Luo Yan, Lu Yaoniang, Li Qingge, and Sun Mingke—and discovered that none of them could match him in lightness skill, even if the difference was exceedingly slight.
On a nearby mountain peak, Monk Kong Chan stood watching Wang Chong alongside his disciple. This pinnacle of the realm praised in admiration, "Disciple Xuan Gang, your junior brother has a benevolent heart. Clearly he had already taken his leave, yet worried about this woman, he trails her in secret. He is truly a rare soul in this mortal world.
"Hereafter, you shall follow him as an attendant. It will bring you boundless benefits. Only, you must never reveal that you are a Shaolin disciple, nor speak of your master-disciple ties with me."
Xuan Gang the monk flared up at once, barking, "Thieving baldy, how can you order me about like some errand boy of yours?
"Why should I go be his attendant? How is he worthy of that?"
Monk Kong Chan smiled faintly and said, "If you go be his attendant, I will pass on the Withered Chan method to you. Do you know? I do not casually impart this Chan method to just anyone.
"Of the Borobudur Great Buddha Temple's Four Great Chan Arts, mastering even one is a supreme Buddhist fortune.
"Withered Chan ranks foremost among the Four Great Chan Arts, peerless beyond measure. Once you master it, no demon or evil spirit in the realm will dare draw near you."
Xuan Gang sensed something amiss right away and barked, "Why won't you teach me Shaolin martial arts? Why teach some rubbish martial art from the Borobudur Great Buddha Temple instead? You old monk, not only do you want to make me an errand boy, you're holding back your own arts! You have no decency at all!"
Monk Kong Chan laughed. "The Borobudur Great Buddha Temple is one of the three great Buddhist temples of the Western Regions. At its zenith, it had forty-eight thousand monks, yet barely six or seven ever learned the Withered Chan method. Are you still unsatisfied?"
Xuan Gang remained half-skeptical. He was an outlaw of the greenwood, completely unlettered, knowing nothing of Buddhist or Daoist lore, let alone what kind of thing Withered Chan was. He could only chime along reluctantly, "This disciple thanks Master. Since this art is so formidable, teach it to me first. Once I learn it, I can slay demons and banish evil, accumulating boundless merit."
Monk Kong Chan shook his head. He first made this crude disciple sit down, then sternly declared, "Withered Chan is one of the Four Great Chan Arts of Borobudur Great Buddha Temple. The law is not shared with six ears, much less given lightly to one lacking affinity. Swear a great oath that you will never use the Chan art I pass on to you for evil, and only then will I teach you."
Reluctantly, Monk Xuan Gang swore, "I, disciple Xuan Gang, learning the Withered Chan method from Master Kong Chan, seek the Buddha with all my heart, desiring only to become an ancestor. I will never follow those wicked monks, lecherous monks, thieving monks, and dead baldies in doing all manner of evil and consorting with unorthodox fiends! If I break this oath, may a thousand bolts of lightning strike me down every day!"
Monk Kong Chan was utterly helpless with this disciple. Though cursed to his face, he found it unworthy of anger. He proceeded to impart the Withered Chan method, letting Xuan Gang begin cultivating it on the spot.
The mental formula of Withered Chan was not particularly complex; the very first hurdle required only severing stray thoughts. Although Xuan Gang was wild and coarse by nature, he was truly an unheralded martial prodigy. He closed his eyes for merely a brief spell, and all distracting thoughts were completely severed. His formerly ferocious, broad face took on a touch of solemn majesty, touched with a hint of withered, ascetic severity.
If not for his astonishing talent, Kong Chan would never have accepted him as a disciple for no reason and spent half a year patiently instructing him. Was Shaolin lacking in young monks? It was simply that none of those young monks could catch Kong Chan's eye.
Monk Kong Chan observed him for a while and praised, "Not bad, not bad. It was not in vain that I brought this scoundrel back to the mountain gate. He indeed shares an affinity with the Dharma, managing to gain entry into an art as difficult to cultivate as Withered Chan. Who knows how many disciples of profound attainment in the Dharma within our temple have been stuck at the gate of severing stray thoughts, unable to advance half a step."
Among the Borobudur Great Buddha Temple's Four Great Chan Arts, Withered Chan ranked first, but it was also the most difficult to cultivate. This method required tempering one's heart to resemble the withered branch of an ancient tree, seeking life within extinction, finding survival in death. In the one thousand seven hundred years since the founding of Borobudur Great Buddha Temple, among countless eminent monks, barely a dozen had ever mastered it. Often not a single genius capable of mastering it emerged in an entire generation; it took several generations to produce one venerable monk who could cultivate this Chan art to fruition.
Kong Chan paid no further heed to his disciple contemplating Withered Chan. Gazing far off in the direction where Wang Chong had vanished, he intoned a Buddhist chant and murmured to himself, "Though the Heavenly Empress of the current dynasty hails from Wudang, this dynasty's state religion might not be Mount Wudang, and this dynasty's Imperial Preceptor might not be Kucha."
By this time, Wang Chong had already caught up with the two women. Just as he was about to put on a mask and deliver a chrysanthemum strike upon Tie Mingzhu, he heard Nan Xinlan suddenly speak: "Sister Tie, my reputation is ruined. I cannot return home, nor can I take the veil. I have resolved to adopt a false name and live out the rest of my days."
Tie Mingzhu sighed. "And how do you plan to live under a false name?"
Nan Xinlan replied, "I shall go serve as Young Master Wang Chong's sword-bearing maid!"
Tie Mingzhu's vision went black...
...Tie Mingzhu: *You want to be White Chrysanthemum's maid? Isn't that just serving yourself up on a silver platter?...*
...Nan Xinlan: *Young Master Wang Chong must be an upright man...*
...Wang Chong: *I am not...*
Chapter 46