Episode 55: Shaolin Temple

Dang Mujin couldn’t believe his ears.

When the wooden dummies were being repaired, it was the Precepts Master who had defended Dang Mujin, saying it was a good thing that the monks were swinging pickaxes in his stead.

Back then, he hadn’t said much, but now, out of nowhere, he was spouting such nonsense. Dang Mujin couldn’t fathom the sudden change in attitude.

It was like a spider’s behavior.

A spider that digs a trap, waiting for its prey to struggle and bind itself tighter.

How could a person speak with such malice?

Dang Mujin glared at the Precepts Master. Yet, there wasn’t a hint of malice in his expression.

His face was as dry as the wooden dummies, as if his words were the most natural and reasonable thing in the world.

Feeling something rise within him, Dang Mujin opened his mouth to speak.

“Last time, you said—”

But his protest was cut short. The booming voice of Monk Cheongbok drowned him out.

“Cheong-yul!”

Though not quite a lion’s roar, Cheongbok’s voice carried the righteous energy befitting a high monk of Shaolin.

The loud voice erupted right beside him, yet the Precepts Master didn’t even flinch, simply looking at Cheongbok.

“What is it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Dang Mujin has spent months restoring the wooden dummies. Unlike any charlatan, he has exceeded all expectations!”

“Yes, I agree.”

The Precepts Master nodded indifferently, as if mocking him, causing Cheongbok’s face to flush with anger.

Cheongbok was straightforward by nature, without pretense or grudges. Unlike others, he had openly expressed his dissatisfaction with the wooden dummies.

But now the situation had changed. The wooden dummies were no longer an obstacle but a beacon lighting his path. Cheongbok was ready to express his gratitude to Dang Mujin without reservation.

His voice grew louder.

“Do you know what you’re saying? Three hundred years! Shaolin has reclaimed the wooden dummies after three hundred years. This is an achievement beyond any miraculous elixir!”

“Is that so?”

“Of course! An elixir’s effects are limited to one person, but the wooden dummies will enlighten countless monks. And that’s not all! They’ll reignite the passion for martial arts in those who have given up. Even lost martial arts have been revived through the dummies!”

Cheongbok’s enthusiasm made his words somewhat disorganized, but his point was clear and easy to understand. The surrounding monks nodded in agreement.

All except for the Precepts Master, Cheongyul.

“Listen, Cheongbok.”

“I’m listening.”

“Doesn’t it clearly violate the precepts of the Great Three Realms?”

Cheongbok’s face showed shock. He couldn’t respond immediately, his mouth opening and closing before he shouted again.

“That’s nonsense!”

“Bodhidharma stated that one cannot learn Shaolin martial arts without a master. If you claim Dang Mujin hasn’t broken the precepts, then reveal who taught him.”

Cheongbok’s eyes and mouth trembled as if he had suffered a stroke. If he weren’t a high monk, he might have hurled insults at Cheongyul right there.

His breath came in angry gasps, his voice almost a pant.

“Precepts? Is that what’s important? Sure, they’re important! But in a situation like this, we shouldn’t be talking about precepts. We should be expressing gratitude and thinking about how to repay him. That’s the duty of a Buddhist, and a basic human decency!”

“Listen, Cheongbok.”

“I’m curious to hear your grand reason.”

“Reason? There’s no need for one. It’s a precept because it requires no reason.”

The Precepts Master continued.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t acknowledge his efforts. I believe we should compensate Dang Mujin adequately. But at the same time, we must sever his meridians or take his life.”

The rigid stance left not only Cheongbok but also Dang Mujin and the other monks speechless.

Unbelievable. Not balancing reward and punishment, but enforcing both simultaneously? How does that make sense?

The silence was broken by Monk Cheonguk, his forehead veined with anger.

“Cheongyul! I’ve known you since we were young, but I never thought you were like this. I’m truly disappointed.”

Other monks quickly joined in, directing criticism and anger at Cheongyul.

“Precepts Master, don’t disappoint me further.”

“Cheongyul! How do you think Dang Mujin and this benefactor view Shaolin? If this story spreads, what will people say about Shaolin? They’ll call it a den of ingrates! Even beasts or outlaws wouldn’t say such things!”

The harsh words, bordering on personal attacks, were things that should never be spoken among brothers who had lived together for decades.

The monks’ anger was so intense that Dang Mujin, despite being the one involved, couldn’t say a word.

Yet the Precepts Master silently endured all the words. He didn’t argue back.

He only repeated the need to uphold the precepts.

Words were exchanged, but no real conversation took place.

The atmosphere grew so tense it seemed a fight might break out. Then, an elderly man entered the room.

He was much older than the other monks, with a long, white beard and an aura that set him apart.

If the other monks were like solid, compact stones, the old man felt like a cool breeze in the forest.

A whisper of awe spread.

“It’s the Sage Monk. He must have completed his seclusion.”

The head of Shaolin Temple. One of the Six Great Masters of the Orthodox Sect. A name that would never be left out when naming the greatest in the world.

All eyes turned to the Sage Monk.

“What a mess. What kind of disgrace is this in front of benefactors?”

“Master! The Precepts Master—”

“Silence.”

With that single word, the room fell silent as if by magic. The sound of each other’s breathing was clearly audible.

The Sage Monk, as if aware of the conversation that had taken place inside the wooden dummies, spoke decisively.

“The Precepts Master has the authority to propose punishment for those who break the precepts. Do not argue.”

The monks’ faces were filled with dissatisfaction.

But no one openly challenged the Sage Monk’s words.

There were two reasons. The Sage Monk’s authority was that strong, and no one believed Dang Mujin would actually be punished.

The Precepts Master’s authority was to propose and discuss punishment, not to decide the target or content of the punishment.

In other words, for the Precepts Master to punish Dang Mujin for breaking the precepts, he needed the agreement of the other monks.

The problem was that the other monks didn’t want Dang Mujin punished.

The Precepts Master must have known that punishment wouldn’t follow. That’s why the monks couldn’t understand him even more.

The Precepts Master informed the monks.

“We will hold an emergency meeting tomorrow to discuss this matter. Those who wish to express their opinions, please come to the Hall of Longevity.”

With that, the Precepts Master left the wooden dummies.

The atmosphere was heavy.

Many monks wanted to challenge the wooden dummies, but the mood was too serious, forcing them to turn away.

Dang Mujin also left the wooden dummies with a heavy heart.

Dang Mujin didn’t return to the guest quarters to rest. There was somewhere he needed to go first.

He left the temple gates. The monks guarding the gate didn’t stop him, despite the talk of him violating the precepts.

He arrived at Dan Seolyeong’s place. She was sitting by the waterwheel, lost in thought.

Today, however, she wasn’t holding a pickaxe or a carving knife. It was the first time he saw her so relaxed.

Hearing his footsteps, Dan Seolyeong turned to look at him. She patted the spot next to her, inviting him to sit.

Dang Mujin sat beside her. Instead of the usual smell of sweat, there was a slightly sweet scent in the air. Familiar, yet unfamiliar.

Dan Seolyeong looked at him and asked.

“So, how did the wooden dummies work out?”

The events inside the wooden dummies came to mind. The Precepts Master’s voice, discussing punishment before gratitude.

But Dang Mujin didn’t want to bring that up in front of Dan Seolyeong. She deserved to hear only happy stories today.

“Of course. When the dummies moved, the monks who were skeptical nearly fell over in surprise.”

“Really?”

Her face lit up with a bright smile. Seeing that, Dang Mujin couldn’t help but smile back.

“Absolutely. There was a monk named Cheongbok who always looked at me with a stern face. Today, he was the first to challenge the wooden dummies.”

“Yeah? How did it go?”

“Want me to show you?”

Dang Mujin stood up and mimicked Cheongbok’s movements, taking a few steps before pretending to be struck by an invisible wooden dummy and tumbling onto the dirt ground.

Finally, as he sat back down and looked around with a bewildered expression, Dan Seolyeong burst into laughter.

Dusting off the dirt from his clothes, Dang Mujin got to his feet again.

“I only managed six steps before getting knocked over by the dummy. And I’m not just any average fighter—I’m supposed to be a top-tier master!”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

Riddles are only satisfying when someone fails to solve them. Even renowned masters couldn’t crack this one. A hint of pride flickered across Dan Seolyeong’s face.

“Has anyone ever made it to the end?”

“No. Do you know Manryeokseung, the head of the Nahan Sect?”

“I’ve heard of him. They say he’s the strongest after the divine monks, right?”

“Even he only managed eleven steps. Not even halfway, not even a third.”

Dang Mujin described the wooden dummy path slowly and meticulously, recounting the reactions of the martial artists. He had never told a story with such enthusiasm before.

Dan Seolyeong closed her eyes, listening intently to Dang Mujin’s tale. In her mind, and beneath her eyelids, the wooden dummies and the awestruck monks came to life vividly.

Dang Mujin watched her, noticing the way her hair fluttered in the breeze and the gentle smile that played on her lips.

When the story ended, Dan Seolyeong opened her eyes and smiled broadly, revealing her white teeth.

“I’m completely satisfied. I have no regrets now.”

Hearing this, a question arose in Dang Mujin’s heart.

What would Dan Seolyeong aim for next in life?

“Now that the wooden dummy path is fixed, what will you do?”

“What else? I’ll stay here and make sure the waterwheel keeps the dummies in good shape. But now that I have a bit more free time, I might spend some time in the village below.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Of course. Where else would I go?”

Dang Mujin felt an inexplicable sense of regret and asked a question he’d been holding inside.

“Aren’t you disappointed you never saw the wooden dummy path?”

“Silly, what do you mean I never saw it?”

“Huh?”

“People are only seeing it now, but since I was ten, I could see it clearly every time I closed my eyes.”

Dan Seolyeong smiled confidently.

Yet, as Dang Mujin watched her, he felt a small pang of regret.

A wish that Dan Seolyeong could smile just a little more brightly.