Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Shaolin Temple
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Time passed, the weather turned noticeably cooler, and the beads of sweat vanished from the brows of those visiting Shaolin Temple.
Around then, rumors spread that the Wooden Man Alley had been repaired.
The regular assembly that followed drew an unusually large crowd, and the Pursuit Hall Leader announced to the abbey leaders and hall masters that the Wooden Man Alley was fully restored.
He added specifics: it would open three days later, and anyone curious should come to the entrance.
Of course, not a single person at the assembly lacked curiosity about the Wooden Man Alley.
The Qing-generation monks, aged between forty and sixty, maintained composed expressions, but their eyes brimmed with curiosity and excitement.
What facilities did this Wooden Man Alley, unmoved for over three hundred years, hold? Were the old tales true, that the wooden men once moved?
Even among the higher-ranking monks, most knew little about it, given how long it had been abandoned.
Three days passed in an uncharacteristically excited atmosphere at Shaolin Temple, and by morning, the elderly monks gathered one by one before the Wooden Man Alley.
The younger Jeong-generation and child Jin-generation monks were absent from the gathering because the Qing-generation monks, who held real power, had piled work on them.
Their willingness to abuse authority without hesitation showed just how great their anticipation and curiosity for the Wooden Man Alley was.
"I'm opening the door."
The Pursuit Hall Leader slid back the bolt. A dilapidated building, its wood's natural brown hue almost entirely faded, appeared before them.
"It looks like the building itself wasn't repaired."
"We didn't have the manpower to go that far."
"I'm not reproaching you, so don't worry. The important part is the interior, isn't it?"
The Pursuit Hall Leader nodded and led the group inside the building.
Few among Shaolin's monks had ever entered this far. They looked around with expressions full of curiosity.
The building was old but spotlessly clean, and the thick scent of castor oil wafted from somewhere.
The Pursuit Hall Leader halted before an especially large sliding door.
"This is the Wooden Man Alley."
The sliding door opened.
Thirty-six wooden men lined up along both sides of the Wooden Man Alley came into view.
"Impressive."
"To carve thirty-six wooden dummies in such a short time? Astonishing."
The monks marveled at the sight.
Unlike the crude log approximations of the old wooden men inside the current Wooden Man Alley, these thirty-six were different.
Their exteriors were more intricate than any Buddha statue within Shaolin Temple, and each of the thirty-six wooden men had a distinct face and posed in a unique stance—dynamic enough to seem alive and ready to move at any moment.
Some monks were satisfied with that. But those who had heard a bit more about the Wooden Man Alley posed questions to the Pursuit Hall Leader.
"I've heard the wooden men in the old Wooden Man Alley could move."
When the Discipline Hall Leader spoke, a nearby Ki-eo Gesung monk chided him.
"Come now. Does that even make sense?"
"But you've heard the same stories, haven't you?"
"Over long ages, things that never happened become 'fact,' and real events sprout wild embellishments into new tales. A story of wooden men that looked ready to move becomes, after ages, one of wooden men that actually moved."
Several martial monks nodded at the Ki-eo Gesung monk's sharp, critical point.
But subtle disappointment tinged the group's expressions. Many had gathered hoping to see moving wooden men.
At that moment, the Pursuit Hall Leader spoke.
"They will move."
"They move?"
"Yes. Please wait a moment."
That was the extent of the Pursuit Hall Leader's explanation.
The Ki-eo Gesung monk glanced around with a look that said he couldn't tell if it was a joke or serious, then waited silently.
After a short while, two men entered the Wooden Man Alley carrying a long pole and a small pestle-like component. It was Dang Mujin and the ragged-clothed man.
"We're late."
Ignoring the stares, Dang Mujin entered the interior and opened a section of the floor.
The monks' eyes beheld the complex underground structure of the Wooden Man Alley, intricately intertwined. Yet no one could comprehend it.
Dang Mujin beckoned the ragged-clothed man, who inserted the pole into a hole beside the sliding door and pulled.
The floor's mechanism parted left and right, creating a precise slot for one component. Dang Mujin fitted the pestle-like part into the gap, poured in a bit of castor oil, and closed the floor.
Dang Mujin returned to the sliding door and took hold of the pole the ragged-clothed man had pulled. His heart raced.
"Here we go."
Dang Mujin took a deep breath and slowly pushed the pole. A low rumbling sounded, accompanied by a faint tremor beneath their feet.
In that instant, the wooden men filling both sides of the Wooden Man Alley began to move.
The thirty-six stances of the wooden men shifted into thirty-six motions. Their flawless group dance filled the martial monks' vision without a single error.
A sight unseen for centuries transcended time to unfold here.
"Guanyin Bodhisattva..."
The monks' shock dwarfed their reaction to the stationary wooden men.
Dang Mujin stepped forward before the wide-eyed monks and began explaining.
"Some of you may already know, but the Wooden Man Alley isn't mere decoration. It's a training mechanism."
It would have been nice if someone chimed in or engaged, but the monks had no spare mind—they simply panted, eyes glued to the Wooden Man Alley.
Dang Mujin continued.
"The method is simple. With each forward step, execute one technique to block the wooden man's attack, and reach the end of the Wooden Man Alley. Naturally, no internal energy. The wooden men would shatter. Purely execute techniques, link them fluidly, and advance."
The martial monks inwardly repeated it while watching the living wooden men: one step, one technique. To pierce the thirty-six wooden men staggered slightly at angles on both sides required thirty-six steps and thirty-six techniques.
The monks' gazes tangled in confusion.
They wanted to try, but being first felt burdensome.
Then, one stepped forward. Akgu Gesung monk Cheongbok.
"Can I go first?"
The monks showed mild surprise. Wasn't Akgu Gesung Cheongbok the one at Shaolin most averse to the Wooden Man Alley?
But conversely, no one suited the first challenger better. Of the two who had long suffered over it, only Cheongbok was a martial monk.
The monks nodded, and Cheongbok stood before the Wooden Man Alley with a satisfied expression.
He observed the wooden men's motions: the first on the right, then the first on the left. How to advance through that path?
Cheongbok pondered in his mind but ultimately shook it off. You never knew until you tried. Half-resigned, he entered the Wooden Man Alley.
He blocked the first right wooden man's two punches with palm strikes, extended his right leg forward to dodge the kick.
Then, one step forward.
Now the first left wooden man attacked. Cheongbok executed a Dharma Eighteen Hands technique to block the high strike, stepped into Diamond Guard to retreat half a pace. He then adapted a Heart-Mind Fist technique to defend and advanced another step.
Third step, fourth. Cheongbok inched forward precariously. The martial monks watched his back and whispered.
"I'd have endured there with Small Flood Step."
"Blocking the left hand with Seven Star Fist?"
"There, adapting Child Paying Respects to Buddha to deflect would be smoother."
"No, Seven Star Fist fits. Child Paying Respects limits the next link."
"Ah, true. But Seven Star Fist isn't perfect either. One slip, and balance is lost."
As the martial monks whispered opinions, Cheongbok tripped over the sixth wooden man's foot and fell.
Thud. A dull sound.
The Wooden Man Alley fell silent for a moment. Cheongbok's face seemed to flush.
The Cheongbok who hated the Wooden Man Alley. The hot-tempered Cheongbok from youth to now.
And the spectacle before so many.
Clear unease rose in the martial monks' hearts. They could easily guess what Cheongbok might do.
As Manryeokseung lunged to grab him, Cheongbok sat up.
Instead of lashing out at the wooden man, he burst into hearty laughter.
"It's insane. Insane! Who knew such a thing existed!"
Manryeokseung halted.
It was the laugh of one who hadn't laughed in ages, filled solely with pure joy—no trace of anger or shame.
Martial arts training was endless repetition of simple processes.
After repeated bone-grinding pain, one day looking back reveals progress. Measuring the distance brings joy, but the process's torment usually outweighs it.
Countless martial artists abandoned the path, unable to endure. Even famed orthodox sects like Shaolin weren't immune.
But Cheongbok found this Wooden Man Alley purely enjoyable. Less training, more like a game.
Merely six steps, yet he'd faced countless choices and possibilities.
What if he'd responded to the third wooden man differently? What if another footwork at the fourth? What if he'd steadied his momentum before the fifth and advanced slowly?
Faced with myriad questions, he'd tried his best repeatedly, only to trip. A clean failure, no tricks involved. Thus, Cheongbok felt not shame or defeat, but boiling competitive spirit.
Next time, he could go farther. The process could be smoother, more refined.
He had to try again. Get pummeled and kicked by the wooden men once more.
What next time? Would this work?
As Cheongbok returned to the start, he envisioned himself at the end. His future self, enlightened anew.
With utmost satisfaction, Cheongbok addressed the other martial monks.
"After rolling around once, I get it. This isn't just a mechanism. It's a riddle solved with the body—a martial arts manual crafted not of brush and paper, but wood and gears."
Cheongbok looked at Dang Mujin and asked.
"Hey, Dang layman."
"Yes."
"When you reach the end of the Wooden Man Alley, what is the name of the martial art you'll comprehend?"
"The fist technique is White Lotus Divine Fist; the footwork is Buddha Shadow Immortal霞 Step."
The name of the martial art discovered while excavating the worn mechanisms beneath the Wooden Man Alley. A name that would have been forgotten had they not inspected meticulously for anything worthwhile.
"If I had a Great Returning Pill in hand right now, I'd hand it to you without hesitation. You've given Shaolin Temple an immense gift."
Extravagant praise from the stingy-with-compliments Akgu Gesung Cheongbok.
The elder martial monks rushed to challenge the Wooden Man Alley one after another.
"Here comes Dalma Hall Leader Cheonghwan!"
"Next is me."
Shaolin's martial monks took turns. They were pushed over, struck on the head by wooden hands, kicked in the side. Yet none felt shame.
Cheers and playful jeers erupted.
They were no longer Shaolin's esteemed elders. They resembled fifteen-year-old martial monks tussling before the Dalma Hall.
They truly rejoiced at facing the Wooden Man Alley across centuries and expressed boundless gratitude to Dang Mujin for reviving such a treasure.
After one full round, the farthest was Nahandan Leader Manryeokseung Cheonguk.
He'd advanced eleven steps—no small feat, achieved by improvising techniques tailored to the wooden men's motions, beyond his prior knowledge.
Keep at it, and unknowingly, he'd master White Lotus Divine Fist and Buddha Shadow Immortal霞 Step.
As the round ended and Akgu Gesung Cheongbok prepared another try, someone spoke.
"We seem to be having too much fun among ourselves. Shouldn't we give the hardest worker, Dang layman, a chance? He might know the solution better than us."
Dang Mujin grinned and stood before the Wooden Man Alley.
In truth, Dang Mujin alone knew all thirty-six techniques and steps to pierce it. The one who sets the puzzle knows the answer best, not the cleverest solver.
Dang Mujin had built and repaired the Wooden Man Alley with Dan Seol-yeong, delving into Dang family records. Retracing the creator's steps from the creator's viewpoint, he'd restored it. Knowing every action of the thirty-six wooden men, he knew the solution.
As Dang Mujin took position, the martial monks cheered. Their usual stern faces long gone.
Dang Mujin executed White Lotus Divine Fist techniques while stepping Buddha Shadow Immortal霞 Step.
One step, two. Over twenty peak experts watched piercingly. Dang Mujin's solution differed entirely from theirs—most efficient. The essence they'd guessed manifested through Dang Mujin, barely past thirty.
Yet Dang Mujin had no intent to reach the end.
'Manryeokseung went eleven steps.'
Dang Mujin advanced exactly twelve and stopped.
It was his consideration.
A riddle's joy lies not in knowing the answer, but in the head-scratching process toward it.
Dang Mujin wasn't so shortsighted as to spoil it hastily—especially this most entertaining riddle in three centuries.
Understanding his thoughtfulness, the martial monks cheered.
Dang Mujin smiled sheepishly and glanced back. Amid the laughing monks stood one with a calm, smile-less face: Precepts Institute Leader Cheongryul.
Precepts Institute Leader Cheongryul spoke.
"Dang layman, you've gone the farthest. With will, you could reach the end. But—"
Dang Mujin felt an inexplicable unease. Unaware or not, Precepts Institute Leader Cheongryul continued calmly.
"Darma left three precepts to uphold at Shaolin Temple: the Great Three Precepts."
"First: No women within the temple gates."
"Second: Those expelled from Shaolin shall never reenter the gates. Violators have ankles severed."
"Third: Forbid taking no formal master, self-learning, or stealing martial arts. Violators face death or severed meridians."
"I ask you, Dang layman. Who was your master in learning White Lotus Divine Fist and Buddha Shadow Immortal霞 Step?"