The Affairs of the Martial World - Vol 4: Chapter 3

The Guanyin Temple was located on a small hill to the east of Qingshui County, which was covered with maple trees, and at this time, the maple leaves have turned bright red.

When Zhu Que arrived here, it was already evening. The maple leaves covering the mountains, under the setting sun and in the autumn breeze, seemed to engulf the entire mountain in a sea of fire.

Amidst the maple leaves, the flying eaves of a temple peek out, with a winding mountain path leading ahead. Zhu Que searched for his way, walking about two miles, when the Guanyin Temple suddenly appeared before him.

A young novice monk received Zhu Que. Zhu Que said he had come to fulfill a vow to Master Honglian and needed to pay his respects in person.

The young monk said, “Master Honglian is no longer at this temple; you may as well kneel and worship Guanyin.”

Zhu Que said, “No, this is not the wish Guanyin granted me. How can I randomly repay a vow? Since Master Honglian is not here, I can go to the house where he used to live to fulfill my vow.”

The young monk said awkwardly, “Well, our temple has never had such a rule.”

Zhu Que took a silver voucher from his bosom and advised the young monk, “I sincerely come to worship the Buddha. How about this? You take this money and use it to create a golden statue of Guanyin as my offering to your temple.”

The young monk accepted the money and led the way forward, not wanting to refuse any further.

Along the way, there were dozens of Guanyin temples, including Yangliu Guanyin, Lianwo Guanyin, Qianshou Guanyin, and Songzi Guanyin. Zhu Que knew that Guanyin had thirty-two manifestations, but ordinary people were most fond of Songzi Guanyin and Yangliu Guanyin.

The incense at Guanyin Temple had always been strong, so the scale of the temple was not small. Passing through the main and Buddha halls, one finally arrived at the monks’ dormitory in the back courtyard.

The young monk stopped here, pointed to one of the rooms, and said, “That is the dwelling where Master Honglian once lived. The door is not locked. I hope the benefactor (1) will fulfill your wish and leave immediately. If the abbot finds out, I will be punished.”

Zhu Que nodded in agreement and walked over, while the young monk, fearing being discovered by others, left soon after.

Zhu Que understood that the young monk would likely withhold the silver voucher he had given him. Not caring about such trivial matters anymore, he pushed open the door to Master Honglian’s room, walked in, and immediately closed the door behind him. The windows on either side were covered with hemp paper, so even with the door closed, it was not dark inside.

Zhu Que looked around; the room was simply furnished with a bed, a desk, and a row of shelves. On the shelves were some black garments and a robe. A large ink character for Zen was pasted on the wall. Zhu Que opened the desk drawer, and it was empty.

He stood in the room, pondering. If Master Honglian had not been a high monk, having lived here for over a year, he should have left some traces behind.

He pulled back the mattress on the bed and found nothing underneath. Zhu Que leaned down to look under the bed and suddenly spotted a small object in the corner against the wall. He moved the bed and picked up the object, a small, delicate iron ring as if it had fallen from some kind of peplum. He casually held it and placed it in his pocket.

Searching around again, he discovered something strange on the wall behind the door. The lime wall here seemed like rotting wood; it crumbled into powder when touched, revealing the stone material inside.

Because of the wealth, the materials used for the temple’s construction were much better than those of ordinary houses, which were mostly built with mud bricks. Zhu Que gestured with his hand, noting that the area where the lime had crumbled was about three feet square, and he couldn’t figure out why it was like this.

After searching again and finding no other abnormalities, he opened the door and stepped out.

Back in the main hall, he ran into the young monk who greeted him upon his return, “Have you fulfilled your wish?”

Zhu Que nodded at him, just about to leave, when a thought crossed his mind: if he wanted to understand what kind of person Master Honglian was, why not ask this little monk?

Zhu Que called him aside to talk and asked about the daily life of Master Honglian. The young monk spoke for a long time, describing the ordinary routines of a monk. Zhu Que then asked if he had seen or heard anything unusual. The young monk replied, “One night, I got up to relieve myself and heard a thumping sound coming from Master Honglian’s room. I peeked through the window and saw Master Honglian sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching out in front of him to pat the air. There was nothing there, yet it made a soft patting sound. It was already late at night, and I feared he was sleepwalking, so I didn’t dare to disturb him.”

Upon hearing this, Zhu Que was momentarily puzzled by what he meant. Suddenly, he recalled the lime powder behind the door and was taken aback, realizing that Master Honglian was practicing a technique similar to the Void Splitting Palm. The distance between the bed and the wall was nearly ten feet. If what the young monk said was true, and if he was sitting on the bed practicing the Void Splitting Palm, striking the opposite wall with loud thuds, then the lime on the wall would decay over time. This meant that his internal strength must be exceptionally profound.

When describing Master Honglian, Zhuang Yuxie only mentioned his kind appearance and profound Buddhist teachings, never mentioning that he possessed martial arts skills. This suggested that he had concealed this well; since there was concealment, there must be a reason, which might be related to Tang Yingying.

When asked if there were any other abnormalities, the young monk couldn’t say anything more.

The place where Zhu Que and the young monk were talking was under an ancient pine tree in the temple, surrounded by no one, so there was no worry that others would overhear their conversation.

Zhu Que was just about to ask more questions, such as whether there were any unusual aspects to Master Honglian’s meals or if he had gone out in the past year. Suddenly, a hoarse voice came from behind, “Jingyin, I’ve been looking for you everywhere; it turns out you were here.”

Upon hearing this, Zhu Que turned to look. A few yards away, an elderly monk was calling the young novice.

The young monk said, “The abbot is calling for me.” After saying this, he hurriedly left.

Zhu Que looked towards the abbot, who happened to be looking back at him. Zhu Que noticed that the abbot had a kind and benevolent appearance, with hair and beard completely white and particularly long eyebrows that drooped down on either side of his eyes. A pair of eyes revealed a complex expression in the wrinkled eye sockets.

Zhu Que performed a one-handed Buddhist greeting to the abbot, who returned the gesture. However, when returning the greeting, the abbot’s hands were not in a standing palm position at his chest, but rather with his thumbs and index fingers pressed together, extending three fingers, resembling a hand seal while also seeming to convey some information to him.

Zhu Que felt a stir in his heart, recalling the legend of Journey to the West, where Sun Wukong was tapped three times on the head by his master, indicating the arrival of the third watch (2). Understanding this in his heart, he nodded to the abbot and then left.

When the clock struck midnight, Zhu Que arrived at the temple once more. The moonlight was dim, and everything was shrouded in darkness. The entire temple seemed to be submerged in the night, with only the chirping of insects in the grass accentuating the stillness of the mountains.

Zhu Que looked around, unable to help but cursed himself for being careless. In such a large temple, he had forgotten to ask where the abbot’s room was. The courtyard was vast, and he didn’t know where to search. Remembering Master Honglian, who held a respected position in the temple, he thought the abbot’s room should not be far from him, so he headed towards the back of the temple.

Indeed, not far from Master Honglian’s room, there was a room still glowing faintly. Zhu Que went to knock on the door, and it turned out to be the abbot’s room.

The abbot invited him inside and closed the door. Zhu Que looked around; the abbot’s room was much more spacious than the others, divided into two sections by a screen filled with Zen scriptures. The front was a hall, and the back served as a bedroom.

The front hall decorations were exquisite, with walls adorned with images of Guanyin. Leaning against the screen was a table on which a lamp was lit. The wick barely protrudes above the oil, casting a dim yellow light, seemingly intentional by the abbot.

The abbot invited Zhu Que to sit down, and before Zhu Que could speak, he asked, “Did you come to inquire about Master Honglian?”

Zhu Que nodded.

The abbot said, “I guessed you came for that reason. Some time ago, I heard that a female benefactor with the surname Tang seemed to have sought a quick end. The young man from the Zhuang family was her husband and had also come to ask this old monk about the origin of Master Honglian, which is quite extraordinary.”

Zhu Que said, “I hope the master enlightens me.”

The abbot said, “More than a year ago, on a night just like this, dark and starless, I heard someone crying outside the temple. I couldn’t help but feel curious—who would come to the temple at such an hour to weep? I got up to check, and outside the temple gate, a monk was crying. I thought to myself since he had renounced the world, he should have severed all attachments and should not be burdened by emotions. Therefore, I believe his crying was either due to some extremely tragic event or an overwhelming sorrow.

“I asked him why he was crying. The monk did not hide it from me and said that he was weeping because his lover’s family had suffered a terrible disaster, and he felt sorrowful thinking about it. The reason he became a monk was that this lover had died, but recently, he learned that she was not only alive but had also married someone else.”

Hearing this, Zhu Que speculated that the lover he mentioned was Tang Yingying. At the same time, he found it strange; didn’t Yingying say she had no other relatives? How could there be a lover, keeping it a secret from Zhuang Yuxie?

The abbot seemed to sense Zhu Que’s thoughts and asked, “Do you think Tang Yingying is the lover he mentioned?”

Zhu Que asked in confusion, “Isn’t she? Who else has suffered such a calamity as a family?”

The abbot said, “It’s not surprising that you think that way because this monk believes she is Tang Yingying, but in fact, she is someone else. Please take a guess, who is this person?”

Zhu Que thought it must be a person very similar to Yingying or even identical. With a sudden realization, he blurted out, “It’s Tang Yingying’s twin sister.”

The abbot said, “Correct, it’s rare for a benefactor to guess it right. This Tang Yingying’s twin sister is surnamed Su and is called Su Xiaoyue. Tang Bingzhong’s wife also has the surname Su, and Su Xiaoyue took her mother’s surname. Su Xiaoyue was fostered outside since childhood; even Tang Yingying didn’t know about it. This time, when Tang Bingzhong resigned from his official position and returned to his hometown, he planned to bring Su Xiaoyue back home, but unexpectedly, disaster struck, and the Tang family was tragically murdered, causing Su Xiaoyue to run away and go missing.”

Zhu Que asked, “Since Su Xiaoyue has already gone missing, how does the master know the ins and outs of this matter?”

The abbot replied, “Before Tang Bingzhong returned to his hometown, he wrote a letter to the family fostering Su Xiaoyue, explaining the matter.”

Zhu Que asked, “Who is that Master Honglian?”

The abbot said, “Master Honglian is indeed Master Honglian. Before he became a monk, his secular name was Hong Qinglian. Ever since Su Xiaoyue ran away from home, he has been heartbroken and decided to leave the secular world. He possesses an extraordinary talent in the Buddhist path, having read hundreds of scriptures and grasped the essence of Buddhism, able to express profound insights and engage in discussions about Buddhism with remarkable eloquence. His understanding of Buddhism has reached an extraordinary level. Unfortunately, while he can discuss Buddhism with deep wisdom, he cannot break free from the attachments of worldly desires. He came to this temple to stay because he heard that Su Xiaoyue was in this town. Not knowing her exact whereabouts, he sought my help. Our temple reveres Guanyin and is a sacred Buddhist place; how could I agree to his misguided request? He knelt before me, crying and pleading, unwilling to leave. Reluctantly, I agreed to let him stay here, but whether he could find Su Xiaoyue, let it leave to fate. To my surprise, the next day, he opened a teaching session. His eloquence and fortune-telling skills quickly gained him a reputation, spreading through the city thanks to some foolish men and women. His intention was for Su Xiaoyue to remember his original name ‘Hong Qinglian’ (3) upon hearing ‘Honglian’ (4) and to come to meet him. However, by a twist of fate, she did not come; instead, Tang Yingying appeared.”

Hearing this strange yet undeniable account, Zhu Que thought about the woman he had seen in the morning, who should be Su Xiaoyue. But why had she gone to Zhuang Yuxie’s house? And why hadn’t she met with Hong Qinglian? Unable to make sense of it, he continued listening to the abbot’s narration.

The abbot said, “After talking with Tang Yingying, he realized he had mistaken the person; Tang Yingying was not Su Xiaoyue but had come to seek a child for her husband. Honglian gave her a pill and sent her back but felt an unusual sense of loss in his heart, fearing that the Su Xiaoyue he had heard about was also a misunderstanding. However, he could not be certain and had to stay here for a bit longer. Not long after, Tang Yingying came to ask Hong Lian to determine whether she was carrying a boy or a girl. Seeing her come alone, Hong Lian couldn’t help but mention Su Xiaoyue. After hearing this, Tang Yingying was filled with mixed emotions; she was happy to have a relative still alive, yet worried about Su Xiaoyue’s safety, and returned home to fall ill with a strange disease. When the young man from the Zhuang family came to seek help from Honglian, he guessed that Tang Yingying was sick because she missed her family and remembered her tragically deceased parents. Thus, he was even more determined to find Su Xiaoyue’s whereabouts, hoping that Tang Yingying would feel better upon seeing her.”

Zhu Que listened patiently.

The abbot continued, “I didn’t expect Su Xiaoyue would actually come. At that time, Tang Yingying was seriously ill and unconscious. Honglian placed her on the bed and just happened to be seen by Su Xiaoyue, which led to a misunderstanding. Su Xiaoyue turned and left, and Honglian put down Tang Yingying to chase after her, but to no avail. The next day, when Honglian returned, he found that Tang Yingying was missing. He immediately left afterward, presumably to continue searching for Su Xiaoyue.”

Zhu Que asked, “When Zhuang Yuxie came to inquire, why didn’t the master tell him the truth?”

The abbot was silent for a moment and said, “In fact, even if she hadn’t gone missing, she wouldn’t have lived much longer. I see that Master Zhuang is so infatuated with her; if he were to learn the truth, he wouldn’t be able to accept it and would lose the will to live. It’s better to leave him with a glimmer of hope, allowing him to come to his own understanding, which can be considered saving his life.”

Zhu Que said, “That’s because you don’t understand Zhuang Yuxie. In his heart, he has already accepted that Tang Yingying is dead, and they even have her memorial tablet set up at home.”

The abbot murmured, “Amitabha,” and said no more.

Zhu Que cupped his hands towards the abbot and said, “Thank you for informing me, Master. I will return now.”

The abbot stood up to see him off and said, “May you have a safe journey, benefactor. Forgive this old monk for not being able to accompany you.”

As Zhu Que was about to leave and reached the door, he saw the closed door and suddenly remembered the marks on the walls of Master Honglian’s room. He turned back and asked, “I wonder how Master Honglian’s martial arts skills are? What school or sect’s internal skills does he practice from?”

The abbot was taken aback and asked, “Does he know martial arts?”

Zhu Que originally wanted to tell him how powerful Honglian’s palm technique was, but the words came to his lips and turned into: “I don’t know either, just asking casually.”

The abbot nodded and said, “He probably doesn’t know any martial arts.”

Zhu Que said, “Then I won’t disturb the master’s rest any longer. Farewell.”

After speaking, he opened the door and stepped out, then turned to close the door. Through the gradually closing gap, Zhu Que saw the abbot still standing there, looking at him.

The two doors made a slight sound as they closed, but the door in Zhu Que’s heart had just opened.

(1) benefactor — 施主 / shī zhǔ, a term used by monks to address a layperson

(2) the arrival of the third watch — means to meet on the third night

(3) ‘Hong Qinglian’ — 洪青莲, surname 洪 Hong, 青 Qing means green/youthful, 莲 Lian means lotus

(4) ‘Honglian’ — 红莲, 红 Hong means red/crimson, 莲 Lian means lotus