The Legend of the Condor Heroes: Starting from the Bodyguard

Chapter 244 The Burning of Shaolin Temple

A perfectly round setting sun clung to the edge of the desert, casting a dark shadow over the land. The desert waves seemed frozen in the distance, like a sleeping sea.

"Chief镖师, the guide has arrived."

The horses' hooves thundered in, kicking up clouds of dust. Behind Liang Xiaowu was a thin Uyghur man riding a camel.

After a while, the caravan from Jiuyuan arrived at the edge of the Tengger Desert and set up camp to rest.

Two paths lay before Zhang Wangyue and his companions.

One option was to continue along the Yellow River, but this would lead deep into the Western Xia Kingdom, which was clearly unwise. The other option was to cross the desert, allowing the caravan to reach Ganzhou directly, which was Zhangye, a place Zhou Yan was not unfamiliar with. Southeast of Ganzhou was Wuwei, the city where Duan Huai'an had once offered sacrifices to his ancestors. From Ganzhou to Yumen Pass, it was less than ten days' journey.

Zhang Wangyue, Hu Yanlei, Zhou Yan and others first arranged for scouts to scout around. The information they gathered indicated that the route led directly to Ganzhou without passing through the heart of the desert, and with a guide, the journey would not be difficult.

After discussing it, the group finalized their plan to cross the desert.

Liang Xiaowu sought out guides, and the porters purchased supplies, focusing on the food, water, blankets, and firewood needed for the mules and horses. They also bought several camels to carry the supplies.

As the guide dismounted the camel, Zhou Yan asked, "How long will it take to cross the desert from here to Ganzhou?"

"It will take five or six days at the fastest, and one or two days at the slowest."

"Are there any bandits?" Huyan Lei asked.

The Uyghur guide said, "How could there be bandits in this desolate place? They're all in the Qilian Mountains between Wuwei and Ganzhou. The area there is lush with water and grass, which is good for people. There are also many caravans coming and going there."

“Very good.” Huyan Lei nodded.

"They might be traveling tonight," Zhou Yan asked.

"Alright, the guest can just follow me."

Zhou Yan said to Zhang Wangyue, "Let's cook a meal, fill our stomachs, and then continue our journey. We'll set up camp and rest when the sun is at its highest tomorrow at noon."

"Okay."

The order was relayed, and the caravan members searched for bushes to start a campfire. They cooked noodles in a large pot, added some thinly sliced ​​beef, and after everyone had eaten, the caravan set off and plunged into the southern part of the Tengger Desert.

Dressed in red and riding a red horse, Mu Nianci looked heroic and spirited in the twilight. She covered her face with a silk scarf and said to Zhou Yan with a smile, "I learned from my experience in Wuwei that covering your face with a silk scarf can prevent sandstorms."

Zhou Yan suddenly felt that a silk scarf gave Mu Nianci, who was dressed in red, a touch of exoticism.

“I should cover my face too.” Zhou Yan took out a long scarf and wrapped it around his face, revealing only his bright, star-like eyes.

The two rode side by side when suddenly the sound of camel bells rang out behind them. Zhou Yan turned around and saw Huang Rong, who was also wearing a black veil covering her face.

How did you get here?

Huang Rong pouted her lips under the black veil and said, "Master is chanting scriptures, and I'm feeling bored. I have some questions for you."

"it is good."

"Once you reach Ganzhou, head west to the Western Regions. Let me tell you about the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions."

Zhou Yan encountered Zen Master Tiancong near Wuwei and was entrusted by him to deliver a message to Shaolin Temple. On Shaoshi Mountain, he asked Kucheng if there was any mail escort service available. The abbot said that there was no need to trouble the escort agency, and Shaolin Temple could send its own disciples.

During Zhou Yan's journey to Poyang Lake, Ku Cheng had already arranged for his disciples to travel west. The two temples had frequent exchanges and knew each other well.

After the Battle of Shaoshi Mountain ended, before Zhou Yan, Zhang Wangyue, and the Indian monks left Shaoshi Mountain, they visited Ku Cheng at the temple. The abbot of Shaolin Temple told them about how the former Fireworker Monk Temple had fled, and how the head monk of the Arhat Hall, Master Ku Hui, had gone to the Western Regions and founded the Western Regions Shaolin Temple.

Therefore, Zhou Yan had a good understanding of the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions.

When Huang Rong asked, he replied, "The abbot of the Western Region Shaolin Temple is Ku Hui, the junior brother of Ku Cheng. In terms of scale, the temple is not as large as the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song. It has more than 300 monks, with martial monks making up about a third of them. It has the Bodhidharma Hall and the Arhat Hall. The head monks are Zen Masters Tianlong and Tianxiang. When Zen Master Ku Hui went to the Western Regions, he was accompanied by many talented monks. Therefore, the strength of the Western Region Shaolin Temple is quite good."

"I see. This is probably one of the reasons why Shaolin Temple on Mount Song is declining."

"Yes, but the main problem is that Shaolin Temple has not produced any exceptional talents. The Shaolin Temple's Sutra Pavilion contains seventy-two unique skills, each of which is a top-notch skill that people in the martial arts world dream of. The Fire-Worker Monk mastered a top-notch martial arts skill by simply stealing knowledge. If there were martial arts talents with such unique aptitude as the Fire-Worker Monk, how could Shaolin Temple have no successors?"

“That’s true.” Huang Rong nodded. That’s how it is with martial arts training. It’s said that diligence can make up for lack of talent, but even if someone with ordinary talent trains hard for years, sometimes it’s not as good as a flash of inspiration from someone with extraordinary talent.

"Master镖头, does Shaolin Temple really have 'Seventy-Two Unique Skills'?" Mu Nianci asked.

"It exists of its own?"

"Tell me, Chief Escort."

"I only know a few details from Master Kucheng, including the Vajra Palm, Vajra Finger, Vajra Prajna Palm, and Kasaya Subduing Demon Skill..."

Amidst the endless yellow sand and the lone plumes of dust, Zhou Yan recounted the Shaolin Temple's unique martial arts and ascetic practices that he had witnessed at Shaoshi Mountain that day. Huang Rong and Mu Nianci listened intently. Ahead of them, the vanguard of the escort team, led by Liang Xiaowu, had already disappeared into the setting sun.

……

The Western Regions, west of the Kunlun Mountains.

The temple complex is situated on two slopes of a valley called Lotus Mountain. The halls and pavilions, varying in height, complement each other, creating a magnificent spectacle. The central hall, with its green walls and golden tiles, stands out brilliantly amidst the densely packed buildings. The eaves are decorated with gilded cloud patterns and lotus petals. The roof ridges are adorned with pagodas and a pair of "flaming palms." The four corners are decorated with Vajra beasts and bronze bells, and the ground floor is constructed of glazed bricks. Inside, the Buddha statues are vividly and beautifully sculpted, exuding a transcendent and sacred aura.

The entire temple, in terms of its architectural layout, possesses both the grandeur of the Central Plains and the simplicity and solemnity of the Western Regions.

As dusk fell, the clouds in the sky turned crimson, like hanging flames.

The giant bell in the temple rang out, its resounding sound echoing throughout the mountains. Monks filed out from their quarters, turning prayer wheels and proceeding in an orderly fashion to the Buddha Hall to chant sutras. An elderly monk in a bright yellow robe emerged from the meditation hall. He appeared to be about the same age as Abbot Kucheng of Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, with white eyebrows and a white beard, and a composed demeanor.

As the old monk passed the Bodhi Pagoda, not far away he was instructing martial arts monks on their training. Two monks, around forty years old, came over, put their hands together, and said, "Greetings, Abbot."

"Tianlong, Tianxiang, come with me."

"As the abbot commands."

The Fu'an Escort Team entered the desert. Zhou Yan, Huang Rong, and Mu Nianci traveled together. Huang Rong inquired about the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions, and Zhou Yan told her about the abbot, Master Ku Hui, and the heads of the Bodhidharma Hall and the Arhat Hall.

The two monks before them were named Tianlong and Tianxiang, and they addressed the old monk as Abbot. The other party was none other than Ku Hui from the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions.

Spring comes late to the Western Regions, with withered grasses grow sparsely, and the spring breeze is still chilly.

As Ku Hui walked through the desolate twilight, he said, "I wonder how the Vajra Sect is doing now, whether they have moved south?"

The monks who accompanied Ku Hui to the Western Regions back then are now old. Today, Tianlong, Tianxiang, and the martial monks including the deceased Zen Master Tiancong, are mostly from the Western Regions. They either came with martial arts skills and became disciples, or they shaved their heads at a young age to learn martial arts in temples.

As soon as the old abbot finished speaking, Tianlong and Tianxiang, whose physiques revealed them to possess "tiger bones, dragon tendons, and unicorn strength," both said in unison, "Disciples are willing to go and investigate."

"Let's go to Tianxiang."

"Respect the law."

As the prayer wheels twirled and the three walked forward, Zen Master Tianlong suddenly asked, "Disciple has something I don't understand?"

"tell me the story."

"The Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions originated from the Central Plains and are originally one sect. Since the Shaolin Temple is in trouble now, why doesn't the abbot lead us south and merge the two temples? In this way, we can not only resist the Vajra Gate, but also allow the Shaolin Temple to regain its glory."

"Now that we have taken root here, we should spread the Dharma and save all sentient beings."

"Disciple understands," said Zen Master Tianlong, pressing his palms together.

Ku Hui nodded, but inwardly he sighed, "When fortune smiles, heaven and earth lend their strength; when luck turns, even heroes are powerless."

As the sun set and dusk settled, the young novice monk walked through the scripture corridor and into the meditation hall to deliver vegetarian meals to Ku Hui and the temple elders, while the other monks entered the dining hall one after another.

After Tianlong and Zen Master Tianxiang finished their vegetarian meal, the two sat down together and discussed who would be a suitable person to accompany them to the location of the Vajra Gate to gather information.

From the depths of the mountain valley outside the temple, a figure emerged, followed by a second, a third, more than ten, and then hundreds...

At the front stood an old monk with a white beard, wrinkled face, and fierce expression. Following closely behind the three monks were Baoshu, Baoxian, and Baolei, and behind them were dozens of Vajra Sect martial monks and more than a hundred martial artists from the Western Regions who had joined the Fire-Worker Monk.

Among these people were monks, laypeople, and Taoists, but without exception, they all had fierce expressions, yet they could hardly contain their excitement.

“Master, it’s almost time to start the meal,” Baoxian said.

The Fire-Worker Monk smiled sinisterly, leaped into the air like a large bird flying through the night, and Baoshu and Baoxian, who had not yet made a move on Shaoshi Mountain, followed closely behind. With each step, he covered several feet, and his movements stirred up wind and thunder.

……

The orange glow of the lotus-shaped lamps illuminated the monks eating in the dining hall. Suddenly, a martial monk dropped his bowl and chopsticks on the table, staggered, and fell to the ground.

Following closely behind, the monks who had been served the vegetarian meal first all felt dizzy, their consciousness sank, and they collapsed to the ground.

“The food is poisoned.” Zen Master Tianlong reached out and knocked over Zen Master Tianxiang’s porcelain bowl of food.

A sinister laugh suddenly approached from outside the temple, "Ku Hui, I have come to settle my score."

The sound started from a distance, but by the time it ended, it had reached outside the dining hall.

A martial monk who was near the door and hadn't had time to eat leaped out. In the darkness, a figure suddenly rushed over, wielding a blade like a giant scythe. The monk was forced to retreat back into the dining hall.

The abbot of the Dharma Hall, Zen Master Tianlong, burst out of the dining hall with a vortex of energy. His figure seemed to transform into a gray dragon in the night, his dragon shadow flying through the air and his dragon claws dancing rapidly. In just a few moves, he snatched the long sword from the Western Region martial arts man who had previously unleashed a stunning strike, and punched the man, sending him rolling into the courtyard.

"Dragon Claw Hand"

The monk in the courtyard clicked his tongue in admiration, inhaled deeply as if swallowing a whale or a tiger, his muscles bulging, and his bright yellow robe suddenly swelled up. He drew his hands upward in an arc to his shoulders, his ten fingers pointing upward and his palms facing forward, and slowly pushed towards Zen Master Tianlong as if carrying a thousand-pound weight.

"The Mighty Vajra Palm!" said Zen Master Tianlong.

"You have good eyesight." The fiery-haired monk laughed, his laughter filled with ferocity. His invincible palm strike swept in like a collapsing mountain and a tsunami. Zen Master Tianlong met it with his own palm. In the blink of an eye, a thunderous roar echoed from the courtyard to the eaves of the prayer corridor. Zen Master Tianlong, who had received thirteen palm strikes from the fiery monk, coughed up a mouthful of blood and flew several feet into the air before crashing into the prayer wheel.

The prayer wheel, engraved with the eight-character mantra, spun rapidly, making a gurgling sound.

"Senior brother!" The celestial phenomena were dizzying, but the man still fiercely pounced on the Fire-Worker Monk. Suddenly, an angry voice came from the Zen temple, "Go to the Sutra Repository and take the scriptures away."

Master Ku Hui came from the sky, his body suddenly crouching down like a shooting arrow. His right palm was curved like a dragon's claw, quickly striking the four acupoints of Huo Gong Toutuo: "Zhongfu", "Lingmen", "Tianfu" and "Jiabai". His left palm spread out like a winnowing basket, pressing down on the tendons of Huo Gong Toutuo's thigh.

"This is the real 'Dragon Claw Hand'!" Firework Monk laughed arrogantly, his palms slashing down with the force of a thunderbolt.

Before the Buddha in the Shaolin Temple in the Western Regions, there are thousands of green lamps. Inside the courtyard, Ku Huijin moves like a divine dragon unfurling and retreats like a nimble snake flashing, as light and agile as a wisp of cloud in the sky, yet as heavy as a mountain of ten thousand jun.

The Fire-Worker Monk's offensive was like a tidal wave, unstoppable.

The two fought fiercely. Tianlong and Tianxiang, along with the monks who hadn't had time to eat vegetarian food and weren't poisoned, rushed to the Sutra Repository. There, in the dim night, they engaged in a fierce battle with Baoshu, Baoxian, and others.

Flames suddenly erupted from multiple directions within the temple, surging and rapidly expanding until they illuminated the sky.
(End of this chapter)