When the news spread that the Dharma King Temple had witnessed a miraculous event, the people at Shaolin Temple couldn't help but feel uneasy.
Especially the newly joined lay disciples, many of whom had chosen to enter Shaolin because of the supposed divine miracles that occurred there, believing it to be a sacred place under the protection of the Buddha.
Before the miracle, Shaolin was an obscure small sect, barely known to the masses. But now, with the emergence of the miracle, it was gaining fame.
On the other hand, the Dharma King Temple was different. The abbot, Likuang, was a martial arts master at the mid-later stage of the acquired realm, and it was said he would soon break through to the late acquired realm within three years. Even the temple's other senior monk, Lixuan, was close to advancing into the mid-later stage.
With two powerful figures in charge and several dozen monks under their command, the Dharma King Temple's reputation was not small. Among the temples in Mount Shaoshi, only the Zhongyue Sect had the power to suppress it; Shaolin was never a match.
But now, the Dharma King Temple also claimed to have a miracle, which made some of the disciples start to reconsider their loyalties.
These thoughts didn't escape the notice of Master Huo Yuan. He observed everyone's expressions, especially the newcomers, but he remained calm. With only a week until the eighth day of the seventh month, everything would become clear soon enough.
Aside from a few lay disciples, most of the others held firm resolve. Even the newly initiated Guanshan Yue spoke up, "Master, what miracle? Do you think miracles grow on trees, to just appear whenever? The miracles we saw at Shaolin are the only true ones. Anything else is a lie. That Dharma King Temple—when I once went there to seek something with true Buddhist energy, that Likuang old monk tried to fool me with a pile of junk. If it hadn't been a Buddhist temple, I would have torn that broken temple down right there!"
Turning to Master Huo Yuan, Guanshan Yue added, "Master, if you give the word, I'll personally set fire to their broken temple. Let's see who dares come to Shaolin seeking revenge!"
Huo Yuan shook his head. "Yichen, do not act recklessly. I know their so-called miracle is false. But perhaps this could be an opportunity."
"Opportunity? What opportunity? Master, now that they have their miracle, people will flock to them! If it were up to me, I would—"
"No need to say more. I understand your intentions. This matter, I will handle."
Interrupting Yichen's words, Huo Yuan continued, "Tell me, what skills can you teach the disciples of the temple?"
Guanshan Yue pondered for a moment. "Master, my most powerful skill is the Five Tiger Gate-Cutting Blade. It's an extremely lethal technique designed to kill. It might not be suitable for our Shaolin disciples."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. My staff techniques are decent, though not as impressive as my blade techniques. Also, my lightness skill is... well, I thought it was excellent, but after seeing your abilities, Master, I realize I was just a frog in a well."
"My lightness skill is called 'One Reed Crossing the River'," Huo Yuan declared, subtly showing off his own skills. He wanted to give the disciples a sense of awe and mystery about him, so that any future abilities he revealed wouldn't seem so extraordinary.
"One Reed Crossing the River! My heavens!" Guanshan Yue was astounded. He understood immediately that this lightness skill was incredibly advanced—few skills in the martial world could compare to it.
Moreover, the fact that it was Buddhist in origin, developed by the great Bodhidharma, added immense prestige. Guanshan Yue, now a Shaolin disciple, was deeply moved by the connection to his Buddhist roots. He realized that not learning this skill would be a grave mistake.
Noticing the eager look in Guanshan Yue's eyes, Huo Yuan thought for a moment, then decided to give him the "One Reed Crossing the River" manual. "Our temple has a general lack of martial prowess. Since you've come, I'll entrust this skill to you. I hope that in the future, you will protect our Shaolin Temple as your home."
Guanshan Yue, filled with excitement, took the manual with trembling hands. He immediately knelt, saying, "Master, Yichen thanks you for your great kindness. I will surely dedicate my life to Shaolin!"
Huo Yuan accepted the gesture with composure, having grown accustomed to disciples kneeling before him. "Very well. But remember this: If you ever act recklessly, I will personally revoke your martial arts and expel you from Shaolin, in the name of the ancestors."
"Disciple will remember!" Guanshan Yue responded.
"Rise. From now on, don't call me 'Master'. We are of the same generation. We will address each other as brothers. I will be the eldest brother, Yichen will be the second brother, Yikong is third, and Yijing will be last."
Guanshan Yue was now the second brother, Yikong third, and Yijing fourth. While Yikong wanted to argue, he could only remain silent—Shaolin under Master Huo Yuan's leadership had a new order. As the abbot, Huo Yuan's word was final.
Yijing, who had once been the third brother, now felt slighted, but accepted his demotion without protest. He was used to being at the bottom.
Once everyone had come to terms with the changes, Huo Yuan addressed the lay disciples, "From now on, you will follow the order in which you joined the temple. Huang Feihong will be the eldest brother, Tieniu the second, and Su Can the third. Remember, there must be no internal strife. If I find out there is discord, I will expel you and strip you of your martial arts. For grave offenses, I will pursue you to the ends of the earth."
"Yes, Master," they all answered in unison, though a few of them seemed less resolute, especially the ones who had been visibly shaken by the news of the Dharma King Temple's miracle.
"Now, go and perform your morning rituals. Huang Feihong, you are to copy the Heart Sutra five times as punishment for being late. From now on, never be late again."
"Yes, Master." Huang Feihong lowered his head in shame, though he did not protest.
After sending them off, Huo Yuan returned to his room, took out a brush, and began to draw. Although he had graduated from university, his academic performance wasn't great, but his drawing skills were decent. He quickly sketched several pictures.
After finishing, he looked outside. The morning rituals were over, and the disciples were preparing to train under Guanshan Yue.
He called out from a distance, "Yichen, come here."
Guanshan Yue hurried over. "Master, what is your command?"
"After the training today, go outside and have some statues made based on these drawings," Huo Yuan said.
Guanshan Yue looked at the drawings curiously and then broke into a strange smile. "Master, this... this is brilliant. It'll make things much more interesting."
"Go, but remember, don't speak of this to anyone."
Guanshan Yue nodded enthusiastically, his laughter ringing as he left.
Huo Yuan sat down, deep in thought about the upcoming Dharma King Temple's grand event.
The temple fair was a significant occasion for promoting the sect. He had seen many wealthy benefactors at temple fairs in his past life, donating vast sums—sometimes millions of silver taels. Even without miracles, some temples had thrived during these events.
With Shaolin's miracle on display, it would be even more successful. But Huo Yuan was already thinking ahead: it might be time for Shaolin to hold its own temple fair.
Such events allowed the temple to amass wealth, and with his plan, Shaolin was bound to shine. The preparations would take time, but soon enough, Shaolin would be able to host its own fair—an event that would not only secure the temple's financial future but also its position as a powerful force.