All Heavens: A Role-Playing System Starting from Tianlong

Chapter 137 Dou Dizhu (a popular Chinese card game)

Zhang Cheng, however, was not interested. His deduction of the technique was stuck at the last step. He had the inspiration and the framework was complete, but his sparring partner couldn't hold on any longer.

This feeling is just like—well, like being suddenly interrupted at the most crucial moment, it's incredibly frustrating.

But the old monk was already overwhelmed. Zhang Cheng couldn't just beat the old monk, with whom he had no grudge, to death just for his own sake.

He gave the old monk a resentful look, then calmed himself down and turned to face the crowd.

"Now that everyone is here, it seems that Murong Bo and his son have been brought to justice. That means only the abbot remains to investigate the matter at Yanmen Pass."

How about you all carry out the temple rules while I announce something? That way, it won't interfere with either thing and will save everyone's time, what do you say?

His words were somewhat flippant, but given his extraordinary cultivation, the Shaolin monks said nothing and simply waited for him to continue.

Seeing the silence of the crowd, Zhang Cheng cleared his throat again, this time speaking in a more serious tone: "Masters, the Shaolin Temple has stood for a thousand years and is a pillar of the martial arts world, which I have always admired. However, there are some things I must say today."

Temples throughout the land possess vast amounts of land and forests, yet most do not engage in production. The monks simply enjoy the fruits of others' labor, their food and clothing entirely dependent on offerings from the common people.

If this continues, many will reap without sowing, while those who toil will suffer; this will be a great harm to the country and its people. This trend must not be allowed to continue.

Upon hearing this, the Shaolin monks' expressions changed drastically. A buzzing discussion arose among the assembled heroes.

"His words—are threatening to shake the very foundations of Buddhism!" "Is the imperial court really going to do this?" "But what he said—seems to make some sense—"

Amidst the clamor, Zhang Cheng remained unmoved and continued, "Today, I will give Shaolin two paths to choose from."

He raised a finger: "Firstly, you can disband as the Ming King said before, and each of you can find another place to cultivate, or return to secular life and go home, as you wish."

The temple's lands and buildings will naturally be confiscated by the imperial court and redistributed. However, let me make this clear beforehand: henceforth, all temples throughout the land will be subject to this reform without exception.

Then, he raised his second finger: "Secondly, Shaolin does not need to be disbanded, but it needs to be completely reformed."

All the farmland and forests within the temple, except for a very small portion needed to maintain the temple buildings themselves, were given away by the imperial court and redistributed to the surrounding landless or land-poor farmers for cultivation.

In the future, when farmers pay land taxes, the imperial court will allocate a reasonable portion of it as funds to support the incense offerings of Shaolin Temple, ensuring that the monks in the temple have basic food and clothing security.

In addition, all monks in the temple, except those who are truly old, weak, or disabled and unable to work, must participate in at least one hour of labor every day, from the abbot down.

They might cultivate the temple's vegetable garden, chop firewood on the mountain, repair houses, or clean the courtyard. In short, they could not sit idly and eat for free; they had to experience the Zen principle of "no work, no food" through labor.

The martial monks in the temple can also consider practicing martial arts to strengthen their bodies as part of their work, but this must be done in moderation and they must not use it to evade other responsibilities.

After he finished speaking, his gaze returned to Xuanci, and he said in a calm tone, "Well? There are two paths. Please let the abbot and all the masters choose."

"

After he finished speaking, the entire room fell into a brief silence, and then erupted into chaos once again.

"This—this is tantamount to forcing Buddhism to its death!" "Unprecedented in history! Outrageous! Utterly outrageous!" "How can the imperial court do this? Our Shaolin's centuries-old foundation—" "Toil every day? How can we, the monks, be treated like tenant farmers—"

The monks were outraged, and the martial arts heroes were also discussing the matter. Some felt that Zhang Cheng's words, though harsh, were not without reason, while others thought that this action was too much and might cause chaos in the world. Still others watched coldly, waiting to see how this storm would end.

The cacophony of noise nearly overturned the ruins that had just begun to quiet down.

Zhang Cheng watched all of this coldly until the commotion reached its peak. He suddenly took a deep breath and stopped suppressing his aura.

The next moment, surging internal energy, carrying the fully activated [Military Might], swept out like a raging storm.

An invisible yet tangible terrifying pressure exploded outwards from him, instantly engulfing every inch of space.

He channeled all the insights he gained from his previous battle with the old monk into this aura. The crowd looked up at him as if they were ants gazing at the heavens, facing the might of the gods.

All the noise, anger, and doubt were forcefully suppressed in the face of this pure and powerful "momentum".

A profound silence fell over the ruins. Only the mournful sound of the wind whistling through the broken walls and the suppressed breathing of the crowd could be heard.

Standing in the center of this deathly silence, Zhang Cheng spoke again: "I am not seeking your consent, but informing you to make a choice."

I will give you all the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. After that time, I would appreciate it if you could give me your reply.

Having said that, he stepped aside to let the old monk beside him speak. "Furthermore, I have some questions that I would like to ask the master for clarification. Would you be willing to come and discuss them with me?"

The old monk nodded slightly, and the two walked side by side to a side hall that was still intact, leaving the Shaolin monks to discuss the matter amongst themselves.

The old monk clasped his hands together and bowed slightly: "What questions do you have, benefactor?"

Zhang Cheng cut to the chase: "Naturally, I'm curious about your identity, Master. With your level of cultivation, it's truly perplexing that you're hiding in Shaolin as a lowly servant monk. May I ask what your background was?"

The old monk remained calm and slowly said, "It seems that you already have a guess in your heart."

Zhang Cheng did not deny it: "Given the master's cultivation level, it is really difficult to judge his age. Therefore, although there are many guesses, none of them are certain."

The old monk remained silent for a moment, then slowly said, "You seem to have associated this humble monk with many important figures."

In fact, I am just an ordinary servant monk in Shaolin Temple, and I have never made a name for myself in the outside world.

However, while cleaning the library, he often browsed the books and by chance mistook the Yi Jin Jing for a Buddhist scripture and mastered the martial arts techniques described in it.

As for his martial arts skills, he created them himself after studying the temple's seventy-two unique skills and gaining insights from them.

Zhang Cheng raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the old monk's face. "Ordinary monks can't understand Sanskrit. Besides, where did you get your martial arts knowledge, Master?"

The old monk answered calmly and slowly, one by one: "I happened to have some knowledge of Sanskrit before I became a monk."

As for martial arts knowledge, the Shaolin School has close ties with various martial arts schools. Although I have never gone down the mountain, I have stayed on this mountain for a long time and have naturally seen many different people in the martial arts world and their martial arts.

"Your Excellency is willing to believe that I am one of the great figures in your heart, but unwilling to believe that a mere Shaolin monk could, by chance, master unparalleled martial arts. You are truly attached to appearances."

Zhang Cheng didn't respond. He wasn't buying this explanation.

If it were any other sect, it wouldn't matter. The Xiaoyao Sect has only been passed down to the third generation—the first generation, Xiaoyaozi, was all alone, and the second generation consisted of Tonglao and the other two.

How easy is it for outsiders to understand the martial arts of the Xiaoyao Sect just by glancing at them?

Moreover, the old monk's obsession with converting Murong Bo was completely incompatible with his transcendent Buddhist cultivation.

From this perspective, his identity is practically obvious. However, since the Murong father and son have already been killed, and the old monk doesn't seem to have any intention of returning to secular life to seek revenge, Zhang Cheng decided not to pursue the matter any further and let him be.

"Alright, since Master doesn't wish to elaborate, I won't press the matter. The incense stick's time is almost up; I must return to hear Shaolin's decision."

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