Chapter 00043: The Cotton Kasaya
# The Cotton Kasaya
Chapter 43
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 43: The Cotton Kasaya
Shanghai, No. 74 Shaoxing Road.
Two lush camphor trees stood guard over this secluded courtyard, within which stood a three-story building.
A sign hung at the entrance: "Story Magazine Editorial Office!"
Early in the morning, He Chengwei rode his bicycle to work.
He had joined the magazine in 1974 and was the youngest editor there.
"Good morning, Editor-in-Chief!"
"Morning!"
He Chengwei went up to the second floor and sat at his desk.
The magazine office wasn’t large, with only about twenty people in total, including editors, graphic designers, and distribution staff.
The magazine was published bimonthly, so in theory, there should have been plenty of time to gather content.
Yet, He Chengwei felt constantly stressed because there simply weren’t enough usable manuscripts.
At the time, Story Magazine didn’t have specific columns.
Each issue serialized five long stories: two were handwritten manuscripts, two were old revolutionary tales, and only one was a new story.
The editors were so desperate for content that they often had to write stories themselves or scour for material wherever they could find it.
Just the day before, He Chengwei had visited a boastful storyteller on Chongming Island.
People who loved to brag often had a knack for spinning tales, and He Chengwei had managed to extract over a dozen small stories from the man, filling an entire notebook.
"Xiao He, take a look at this handwritten manuscript. Can we publish it?"
"Sure!"
The editor-in-chief tossed him a worn-out notebook.
It was thick, with messy handwriting and some pages missing.
He Chengwei was used to this.
Since the beginning of the year, he had seen countless handwritten manuscripts, all of which were "forbidden books" from a special era.
Titles like The Second Handshake, The Green Corpse, A Pair of Embroidered Shoes, The Plum Blossom Party, and The Heart of a Maiden were among them.
How obsessed were people with these handwritten manuscripts back then?
It was said that one educated youth, upon hearing that someone had a copy of The Second Handshake, walked 20 miles to borrow it.
He made a makeshift oil lamp out of an ink bottle and read it secretly in a sweltering livestock shed at night.
To fend off the summer mosquitoes, he wore thick clothes and soaked his feet in a bucket of water.
After five sleepless nights, he finally finished reading The Second Handshake.
The Heart of a Maiden was even more infamous.
It told the story of two young people falling in love, complete with sexual descriptions.
The so-called sexual descriptions were actually quite laughable.
No one knew what the original version looked like, but as the manuscript circulated, the restless men and women who read it couldn’t help but add their own imaginative touches to the steamy parts.
However, lacking any real experience, their additions were often ridiculous—things like licking tongues, groping breasts, and watching streams flow.
It was akin to some modern online novels where authors write lines like, "He massaged his girlfriend’s chest so much that it grew from a C cup to a B cup"—pure virgin literature.
But back then, The Heart of a Maiden was like a flood of forbidden knowledge.
Countless people passed it around, and many were corrupted by it.
There was even a story about a Shanghai student who, after reading the book, began pursuing his own sister and imitating the book’s scenes, ultimately being sentenced to death for his actions.
He Chengwei quickly flipped through the handwritten manuscript.
He only needed to confirm the general plot and whether it was suitable for publication.
Any prohibited content would be scrutinized in detail later.
"This story can be used!"
"Good, you handle it."
By the time he finished with that, it was already noon.
After lunch, He Chengwei took a short walk outside and returned just as the postman arrived.
"Your magazine’s mail is increasing. I read every issue of Story Magazine. Keep up the good work!"
"Thank you, comrade!"
He Chengwei carried the package upstairs and opened it.
Inside were letters from readers and submissions in brown paper envelopes.
He started with the submissions.
The first was a new story written by an amateur author from Jiangsu, who claimed to be a factory worker.
The story was about the factory’s security department catching thieves and chasing after the factory beauty.
"Not bad!"
He marked it for potential use and moved on to the next submission.
"This one’s from Lushan…"
He Chengwei flipped through the manuscript, estimating it to be around 20,000 words.
The handwriting wasn’t great, but it was legible.
The title at the beginning read:
The Cotton Kasaya.
"What’s this? Such a strange name."
He read the first sentence.
"The story begins in the late Ming Dynasty, a time of widespread suffering, with corrupt officials in power, exploiting the people without mercy. Righteous individuals across the land rose up under the banner of Shaolin’s true teachings to resist them. The treacherous official Wang Cheng, filled with hatred, summoned Qi Tianyuan, a renegade from Wudang, and ordered him to go to Shaolin Temple to seize the Cotton Kasaya…"
He Chengwei’s spirits lifted.
This was someone who knew how to tell a story!
Story Magazine was, in essence, a platform for oral literature.
It required stories to be easy to understand, fast-paced, and full of dramatic twists—much like today’s online novels.
If a story in People’s Literature described a woman, it might say: "She was in her early twenties, tall and fair, with features as delicate as a painting, her eyes like tranquil pools…"
But in Story Magazine, it would simply be: "She was a beautiful woman."
This was why Story Magazine was often looked down upon, dismissed as reading material for migrant workers and drifters.
Even Sister Feng, who had moved to the United States, couldn’t forget it and continued reading Story Magazine abroad.
He Chengwei kept reading.
The story maintained its straightforward and lively style, telling a martial arts tale in simple terms.
It said that when Bodhidharma came to the East, he brought with him a cotton kasaya, which had been passed down through generations at Shaolin Temple.
Whoever possessed this kasaya could become the abbot.
Qi Tianyuan, the Wudang renegade, shaved his head and infiltrated Shaolin Temple, aiming to steal the kasaya and claim the position of abbot.
Meanwhile, Ding Mo, a lay disciple of Shaolin, was traveling the land and met a horse trader named Lin Cangbo.
Lin Cangbo had four daughters, each skilled in martial arts, especially the eldest, Lin Ying, who was as beautiful as she was talented.
One day, Wang Cheng’s men arrived, demanding to confiscate their horses.
Lin Ying secretly incited the herdsmen to spook the horses.
On the vast grasslands, thousands of horses stampeded, leaving Wang Cheng’s men unable to give chase.
Lin Ying and her sisters rounded up the horses, and Ding Mo happened to pass by, offering his assistance.
Lin Ying, impressed by his bravery, began to develop feelings for him.
Ding Mo, too, was drawn to her, and the two exchanged tokens of affection.
From Lin Cangbo, Ding Mo learned that Wang Cheng might be targeting Shaolin Temple, so he hurriedly left for Song Mountain.
Meanwhile, Qi Tianyuan attempted to forcibly take the position of abbot, clashing with Shaolin’s Master Yuanhui.
Outmatched, Qi Tianyuan called for Wang Cheng’s troops to storm the temple.
Ding Mo arrived just in time to rescue Master Yuanhui, and they retreated to the scripture library.
Master Yuanhui entrusted the kasaya to Ding Mo and a few other disciples, instructing them to flee.
Wang Cheng’s troops overran Shaolin Temple, capturing the monks and threatening Master Yuanhui to hand over the kasaya in exchange for their lives.
Master Yuanhui, resolute, walked into the blazing flames.
"Abbot!"
"Abbot!"
"I came into this world pure, and I shall leave it pure. What can fire and swords do to me?"
Amid the cries of his disciples, Master Yuanhui stepped into the flames, choosing to end his life through self-immolation.
Ding Mo and his fellow disciples escaped, but the imperial forces were hot on their trail.
Ding Mo created a fake kasaya and lured the pursuers away, only to be defeated by Qi Tianyuan and thrown off a cliff…
"Ah!"
The story flowed like water, and He Chengwei was both thrilled and heartbroken.
When Ding Mo fell off the cliff, his heart clenched, and he eagerly wanted to know what happened next.
But when he turned the page…
"It’s over?"
"Damn it!"
He Chengwei felt as restless as a wild donkey in heat.
How could they leave it like this? What happened after he fell off the cliff? It just ended!
(End of Chapter)