Li Xuan stood confidently, straightening his gray monk robe as he rose, and loudly recited:
"Douyi military's leftover seed not yet sprouted, hidden form, buried again with a thousand carts. The will of the heavens, no difference in choosing, enters the long fasting to worship the Buddha's house."
He finished the four seven-character lines with a proud glance at the others.
Qian Delu stroked his beard and nodded slightly. "Hmm, good, good, full of emotion and scenery. Truly, it feels as if one is there, quite well done."
Chen Ding and Zhao Wujing also nodded approvingly.
Huo Yuanzhen observed coldly. The poem was fine, but it certainly couldn't be called brilliant. Qian Delu's evaluation was just okay, while Chen Ding and Zhao Wujing's reactions seemed a bit too exaggerated.
But the two weren't completely shameless in their praise, which gave Huo Yuanzhen a sense of relief. As long as his own poem clearly surpassed Li Xuan's, it seemed that Chen Ding and Zhao Wujing wouldn't be overly biased.
Li Xuan, feeling pleased with himself, shot a provoking glance at Huo Yuanzhen.
It wasn't surprising, really. In the martial world, how many people could truly appreciate poetry? Drawing a sword was far easier than picking up a brush. If not for Zhao Wujing today, Li Xuan would never have bothered with poetry. To him, Huo Yuanzhen, though a young monk who had pointed out something to Zhao Wujing earlier, was too young to have any true literary talent. He likely just got lucky. Moreover, since the theme of the poem had to relate to Buddhism, Li Xuan had prepared this verse well in advance, while Huo Yuanzhen would likely struggle to come up with something on the spot.
Huo Yuanzhen glanced at Li Xuan but made no comment about his poem. Instead, he turned to the other three. "Gentlemen, allow me to present my humble verse."
"Please, Abbot." Qian Delu gestured with a smile, and Chen Ding and Zhao Wujing both nodded slightly.
Huo Yuanzhen rose from his seat, moved away from the table, and walked toward the apricot blossoms nearby.
The others followed his figure, eager to see what kind of verse the young monk would come up with.
Arriving under the apricot tree, Huo Yuanzhen turned back toward the bright moon and said, "The moonlight tonight is quite beautiful."
"Indeed, the apricot blossoms and the bright moon, savoring wine and composing poetry—this is one of life's great pleasures," Qian Delu replied.
Li Xuan glanced sideways at Huo Yuanzhen. "Abbot, don't delay any longer. You should compose your poem quickly."
Huo Yuanzhen understood his intent, knowing that Li Xuan didn't want him to have too much time to think. But Huo Yuanzhen had already made up his mind. With a calm smile, he responded, "Master Li, being a monk is about cultivating the mind. If we are too hasty, it would go against Buddhist teachings and disturb our inner peace."
"Hmph!" Li Xuan snorted. "I'm not in a rush. I'm just afraid it's the Abbot who is eager now."
Chen Ding added, "Abbot, it's late. Please begin quickly."
Huo Yuanzhen did not reply but took a few more steps, his eyes still fixed on the moon in the sky, and then said, "The Zen heart is like the moon, pure and untarnished."
As the words left his lips, a silence fell over the room. Zhao Wujing, who had been about to take a sip of wine, froze with the cup in midair, softly repeating the line.
After a moment, Zhao Wujing set his cup down, and couldn't help but clap his hands enthusiastically. "Wonderful! Truly wonderful! Abbot, though your poem doesn't mention Buddhism directly, the meaning behind it, I can already feel it."
Qian Delu raised his cup and drank it in one go. "A fine poem! With this line alone, I feel as if the world has become clear to me. If I weren't already a merchant, I might consider becoming a monk myself."
Chen Ding also nodded in approval, but Li Xuan's expression darkened. He sneered, "Abbot, one line doesn't quite count as a poem, does it?"
Huo Yuanzhen calmly continued, "The Zen heart is like the moon, pure and untarnished. The poetry flows like the sky, renewed and clear. Good verses are like exquisite brocades, and good literature does not need to be adorned with rare treasures. The Six Dynasties washed away the luxury, and the Four Histories erased the elegance. A pillow half-pressed by the pine wind, the tea still unripe, but my heart is full of the springtime of poetry."
With these eight lines flowing seamlessly, Huo Yuanzhen returned to his seat, picked up his teacup, and took a slow sip. His demeanor was calm and dignified, like that of a seasoned monk.
Zhao Wujing said nothing further, but raised his cup to Huo Yuanzhen in a silent toast before drinking it all down.
After finishing his drink, Zhao Wujing sighed, "A line like 'the spring of poetry'—Abbot, your grandeur and ambition are evident. If you were to leave the monkhood, you would have no trouble achieving fame and success."
"Master Zhao, you flatter me," Huo Yuanzhen replied humbly. "As a monk, fame and fortune mean nothing to me. At present, I am only seeking to establish a safe haven for my fellow monks and a place where the people of the land can offer their prayers. It is only for this reason that I must trouble Master Zhao. Otherwise, I would not have come here."
Despite his words, Huo Yuanzhen's intent was clear: he was preparing to develop the Shaolin Temple, with plans for dominance in the martial world. He could speak with such righteousness that others couldn't help but believe him.
Sure enough, Zhao Wujing's expression turned admiring, and he once again raised his cup to Huo Yuanzhen.
Li Xuan's face grew increasingly darker as he finally could no longer hold back. He turned to Zhao Wujing and the others. "Well, aren't you going to say whose poem is better? Mine, or his?"
Qian Delu glanced at Li Xuan, his voice cold. "Li Xuan, it's hard to compare, isn't it?"
"What do you mean 'hard to compare'? The better one is better, and the worse one is worse!"
"Li Xuan, if you insist on comparing, then I must say, a rough stone cannot be compared to gold and jade. To try would only show that the one holding the rough stone cannot recognize gold and jade."
"You... What did you say!" Li Xuan's face flushed in anger. "No, I don't believe you. Zhao, you are a scholar, tell me, whose poem is better?"
Zhao Wujing looked at Li Xuan with some helplessness and then spoke: "Li Xuan, if you must compare, let me tell you, Abbot's poem is the finest I've ever heard. It's not worth continuing the comparison."
Li Xuan's face was filled with resentment, but finally, he relented. He sneered, "Fine. What is three thousand taels of silver, anyway? My senior brother can deal with it easily. If you don't want to lend it, someone else will. If I can't stay here, I'll leave. Goodbye!"
With that, Li Xuan flung his sleeve and turned to leave.
Chen Ding opened his mouth to stop him but found no words.
Li Xuan reached the door, suddenly turned, and glared at Huo Yuanzhen. "Abbot, build your Shaolin well, and spend all the silver you can. If one day your temple is destroyed, you'll never be able to repay Master Zhao."
"Amidst all this, you have no need to worry, Master Li. I will manage Shaolin well. Even if it is destroyed one day, it would be my fate. But I believe that day will never come. Anyone who dares to harm my Shaolin will have to face my retribution."
"Humph! You don't know what's good for you."
Li Xuan didn't want to argue further, and quickly left.
Huo Yuanzhen turned to Zhao Wujing. "Master Zhao, you've heard Li Xuan's words. If you're worried about recovering the silver, I am prepared to abandon my proposal."
Unexpectedly, Zhao Wujing raised his eyebrows. "Abbot, why such words? I may be a scholar, but I've always stood by what is right. They may be from the martial world, but I am not afraid of them. Abbot, I believe they won't harm you. The five thousand taels you need? I'll lend it to you!"
Huo Yuanzhen smiled inwardly. He had already sensed Zhao Wujing's pride as a scholar. With a little prodding, he had taken the bait.
"Very well, Master Zhao. I am deeply grateful for your generosity."
The two men quickly reached an agreement, with Zhao Wujing arranging for the money to be lent immediately. The contract was signed, with Qian Delu as the guarantor. Five thousand taels of silver were now in Huo Yuanzhen's hands
, ensuring the construction of Shaolin Temple was no longer a problem.
Once everything was settled, Huo Yuanzhen prepared to leave. Zhao Wujing, however, insisted that he stay the night. The next morning, he arranged for Huang Feihong to escort Huo Yuanzhen back to the mountain.
As they approached the foot of Shaoshi Mountain, Huang Feihong reluctantly said, "Abbot, if I have time in the future, I will come to hear you tell stories."
Huo Yuanzhen smiled, "You can come to hear me, and you can also come to practice martial arts at Shaolin."
"Practice martial arts!" Huang Feihong's eyes brightened. He hesitated before asking, "But aren't there very few monks at Shaolin? Can anyone there actually practice martial arts?"
Huo Yuanzhen glanced around, spotting a stone about the size of two large bowls. He walked over and, much to Huang Feihong's amazement, slammed his head straight into it!