Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Shaolin Temple
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In Shaolin Temple's Longevity Pavilion, regular meetings were held every half month—once on the full moon and once on the new moon.
It just so happened that today was the night of the full moon, and quite a few people had gathered in the pavilion. Monks who held positions large and small within Shaolin Temple.
That said, there were just as many empty seats as occupied ones. The abbot's closed-door training hadn't ended yet, and others had stepped out due to their duties.
Shaolin's regular meetings were the sort where anyone could skip out without qualms if they had business, meaning no earth-shattering discussions ever took place.
It was less a true meeting and more a casual spot for people who rarely crossed paths to catch up and chat.
Once the usual chit-chat disguised as a meeting wrapped up and a few impatient monks had left, one of the Ten Precept Monks, Monk Cheongbok of the Evil Speech Precept, spoke up.
"Come to think of it, I heard they've opened up Wooden Man Alley. Is that true?"
The Pursuit Hall Leader nodded.
"Yes."
"Why on earth? Weren't they supposed to dismantle it before winter?"
Among Shaolin's monks, plenty had called for tearing down Wooden Man Alley. If you named the two most vocal proponents, they were none other than Monk Cheongbok of the Evil Speech Precept and Pursuit Hall Leader Cheongjin.
The Pursuit Hall Leader had wanted it gone because he was always stuck cleaning up after the con artists who spouted nonsense about the alley, but Cheongbok had a simpler reason for hating it. The alley loomed right in front of his quarters.
Cheongbok knew it was a petty reason.
When he'd first been assigned the Evil Speech Precept Monk's quarters as one of the Ten Precept Monks, he hadn't cared one bit whether Wooden Man Alley blocked the view.
But when his martial prowess stalled at the bottom rung of peak level for years on end,
And his junior brothers, who had lagged behind, ascended to peak realm and overtook him,
The first thing that caught Cheongbok's eye was that massive Wooden Man Alley blocking his front yard.
His progress had ground to a halt, leaving him depressed enough already, but staring at the half-foot sliver of sunlight peeking past the alley brought all sorts of thoughts bubbling up.
Feng shui he'd never given a second thought to before. Or those offhand comments from Daoists about how it looked all clogged up.
Maybe that's why he couldn't break through the peak wall.
He tried dismissing it as nonsense and clearing his mind, but with the alley staring him in the face every time he opened his door, shaking off the thoughts wasn't easy.
Now he thought he understood why the previous Evil Speech Precept Monk had despised it so much. Even that monk, tasked with reining in Shaolin brothers from foul speech, must have had curses rising to his throat at the sight of it. Cheongbok certainly did.
Unaware or uncaring of Cheongbok's seething resentment, the Pursuit Hall Leader replied calmly.
"There's no special reason. Someone capable of handling it just showed up."
"That's what makes it even harder to understand. Word is, it's the young hero that Strange Physician brought along who's taking charge."
At the mention of the nickname "Strange Physician," the rumor-shy monks stirred faintly. He was just that poorly regarded.
Cheongbok continued.
"I don't like that Strange Physician's tangled up in Shaolin business from the start. I still can't fathom why he hasn't been named a public enemy of the martial world. He goes around killing innocent people on whims, and somehow gets away with it."
Arhat Hall Leader, Powerful Monk Cheonguk, jumped in.
"Anyone hearing that would think Yi Chung only slaughters the innocent. Most of the people he killed were wicked scum."
"But he killed plenty of innocents too. Does it make sense to murder a physician for not handing over a treasured medical text passed down as family heirloom? Can anyone understand chopping off a patient's arm for not paying his medicine bill?"
Powerful Monk was at a loss for words. Those were undeniably Strange Physician's misdeeds.
But he pivoted the conversation to defend him.
"Still, people see his merits outweighing his faults, so he's not branded a public enemy. Name a famous sect or clan that hasn't owed Yi Chung a debt, big or small? Or have you ever heard of him refusing treatment to the poor?"
"I wouldn't know if worldly folks forgive sins with merits, but whether the King of Hell upstairs weighs it the same way is another matter. His disciple won't be any different."
"Young Master Dang isn't Yi Chung's disciple. Just a traveling companion."
"But there's that saying about birds of a feather."
"Enough."
The Precepts Academy Leader, who had been listening silently, cut into their bickering.
The remaining monks perked up to hear him.
He never spoke idly, and he held one of Shaolin's top positions.
"On a related note, I heard that young hero recently completed a wooden man."
"Yes. It was splendid."
The Pursuit Hall Leader nodded.
His faith hadn't been misplaced. Dang Mujin had delivered two wooden men in just a few days.
He'd even demonstrated them swinging limbs in front of the Pursuit Hall Leader—a sight that made even a martial arts novice like him nod in approval.
"You brought a finished wooden man from outside the gates?"
"Yes."
"That's a problem. As you know, Shaolin strictly guards against leaking martial arts outward. Lose even one, and it could spell trouble."
The Pursuit Hall Leader couldn't hide his embarrassment at the Precepts Academy Leader's words.
"I'm no warrior monk, but losing a wooden man or two hardly counts as leaking Shaolin martial arts."
"I know. But we shouldn't slack on small things—better to be cautious from the start."
"So what should we do? A fix for Wooden Man Alley has finally appeared. You're not suggesting we halt repairs?"
"Of course not. But if we're making wooden men, we should figure out how to do it within temple grounds."
The Precepts Academy Leader's words were stuffy and by-the-book, but right on the mark. The other monks nodded, tentatively agreeing.
*
"...And that's how it went."
The Pursuit Hall Leader explained the whole story to Dang Mujin with an awkward expression.
"You're not telling me to scrap the pre-made ones and start over, right?"
"No need for that. But any new ones have to be made inside the gates from now on."
Dang Mujin understood, but it wasn't easy to swallow practically.
"I have no confidence in repairing Wooden Man Alley without Miss Dan's help. Only she knows the structure of the wooden men and the alley precisely."
Buoyed by success with the first, Dang Mujin had tried the second without a prototype, relying solely on Dan Seoyeong's explanations.
The result was a dismal failure. Two days to make it, two more to test fixes alone. Four days wasted with nothing to show.
That taught him: to make wooden men, he needed Dan Seoyeong's help first to grasp the structure via prototypes, then proceed.
"Figuring as much, I talked it over with the Precepts Academy Leader as best I could. He said making partial prototypes outside is fine. But they can't take the full form of a complete wooden man. Can you manage?"
"That should be doable."
"Sorry for the added hassle. But it's the Precepts Academy Leader's word—no helping it."
The Pursuit Hall Leader looked genuinely apologetic, though it wasn't his fault. Dang Mujin nodded.
*
When Dang Mujin found Dan Seoyeong, she had materials piled up for wooden men and was waiting for him.
Recalling her joyful face at the moving wooden man weighed on his heart. But he had to say it.
"They say we can't make wooden men outside anymore."
"What're you talking about?"
Dang Mujin relayed the Pursuit Hall Leader's words. Expecting deep disappointment, he was surprised by her calm expression.
"No big deal. I just want to fix Wooden Man Alley—I wasn't planning to sightsee the repaired wooden men anyway. Knowing we're fixing it now feels like a dream. Plus, I've had some worries lately."
"What worries?"
"I have my own work, but I haven't touched it lately."
She pointed to the dug-up plot she'd abandoned.
Lately, Dang Mujin hadn't seen her with a pickaxe. Whenever they met, they'd huddle over wooden men, pouring in all focus.
After a moment's thought, Dan Seoyeong added,
"Anyway, you won't come every day from now on?"
"Probably. I'll visit every three days to make prototypes, but the next two days, work inside the alley."
For a fleeting instant, regret flickered across Dan Seoyeong's face.
She'd been playing it cool, but missing the moving wooden men clearly bugged her.
Dang Mujin couldn't pinpoint why, but his mood sank too.
No helping it, though. Rules were rules because you couldn't compromise.
To lighten the air, he forced a cheery tone.
"Don't worry today. Same as always for the prototype—just don't assemble fully. Testing limbs separately is no issue, right?"
"Yeah. Sure."
Dan Seoyeong gave a strained smile.
*
While Dang Mujin and Dan Seoyeong slaved over Wooden Man Alley, and Strange Physician hunkered in a corner scribbling, Hong Geolgae roamed every nook of the lower village.
In days, he'd become well-known among local beggars. Three knots made you a solid player in beggar circles.
Of course, the Beggars' Sect Dengbong Branch under Mount Song had its own Three-Knot Elder. Dengbong Branch Leader Wang Bong chose camaraderie over rivalry with Hong Geolgae.
The guy looked tough in martial arts and wasn't sticking around long—antagonizing him gained nothing.
"Hey, brother. You're here."
"Had a peaceful night, elder brother?"
Hong Geolgae had no reason to antagonize Wang Bong either.
Far from it—with his age and three knots treating him warmly, "elder brother" slipped out naturally. Their personalities meshed too.
By bright day, they lounged instead of begging, then as dusk fell, they leisurely prowled tavern alleys.
Shaolin monks embodied restraint. But visitors to the temple didn't.
With Mount Song's Lesser Room Peak calmly settled, the village below buzzed even more.
Come evening, gamblers set up games everywhere, drawing wanderers from across the Central Plains to gawk at the mountain and roll dice.
Hong Geolgae and Wang Bong learned begging around gambling dens worked best.
Wang Bong, ever smiling, easily got alms from winners riding high.
"Heh heh. Great hero. Won big today?"
"Wang, my man! Of course! Here, grab a bite with this."
The gambler rummaged his pouch gladly.
His tone suggested silvers, but two coppers landed in Wang Bong's palm. Big or small, free money was free.
Hong Geolgae drew the opposite crowd.
A gambler who'd lost big and torn at his hair lit up at Hong Geolgae's sight.
"Hey, Young Hero Hong! Come here!"
Just approaching got him five or ten coppers without buttering up—like tribute, not alms.
One reason: rumors flew that Hong Geolgae brought luck.
"Young Hero Hong! Roll the dice for me."
"Not hard, but no guarantee of good rolls."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't sweat it—just roll."
The gambler, heavy loser at chupu, sweated despite cool weather.
Hong Geolgae took two dice, rolled: 2-5. Average.
No blame—he clasped hands, awaiting his turn.
4-3. 3-5. 1-4. More averages.
Fifth roll: doubles. 6-6.
"Yaaah! Yaaah!"
The gambler whooped. He'd recouped big in one go.
What took others thirty or fifty rolls came for Hong Geolgae every five or ten. He didn't know why—first time touching dice was days ago.
The gambler swept winnings, handed ten more coppers. A hefty sum in coppers.
Not enough—he stood behind, kneading Hong Geolgae's shoulders like a superior.
"Whew, Young Hero Hong saved me. Roll a few more? I'll reward you proper."
Hong Geolgae glanced around. Other gamblers looked uneasy.
They figured lucky fluke, but eyed him like he held some magic. Gamblers were superstitious.
"Nah. Can't do it."
So he waved it off and stood.
Joyful faces were nice; resentment, not.
"One more hand—no more, no less? Please?"
"Heard good luck's followed by bad. Feels like the worst roll's coming."
"Fair enough, then."
As Hong Geolgae rose, Wang Bong sidled up with a grin.
"The more I see, the weirder it gets. Seen tons of beggars in my time, but you're the only one alms from losers."
"Dice like me, I guess. Who knows how long."
Walking, Hong Geolgae spotted a beggar father and daughter. Both skin-and-bones pitiful.
He gave them all the coppers from gamblers. A beggar alms-giving beggar—odd sight.
The father gawked, bowing nonstop.
"Sir! Thank you! Thank you!"
"They say free money vanishes if you hoard it. Take your girl, buy something tasty quick."
"Oh, got it!"
The girl, clutching her dad's hand, beamed with anticipation. First real taste of treats she'd only smelled.
Watching the light-footed pair go, Wang Bong laughed heartily.
"More amazing: earning coppers, then sharing them. Not a pang of regret?"
"Never bought anything with money my whole life. Won't start now."
"That so? Guess I should try alms like my little brother. Care to donate dinner?"
"Sure."
They vanished into dingy alleys.
An old man watched Hong Geolgae's retreating back.