Chapter 27: Abbot Yuan Fang

Guangyi Commandery, Little Nanshan. The mountains were green and the forest deep and quiet. Near dusk, three riders charged into the hills, shattering the stillness and startling birds and beasts from beside the mountain road. In the shade beside the path stood a small pavilion sheltering a stone stele from wind and rain. Time had worn at the three characters carved into it: Nanshan Temple. Song Yanqing, Xu Yitian, and Chen Guishuo reined in their horses. After checking the inscription to make sure they had come to the right place, they looked up at the stone steps winding toward the summit. Through the dense trees above, the corner of an upturned roof could just be seen. Presumably, that was the temple.

Song Yanqing tilted his head in silent instruction. Xu Yitian tapped his heels against his horse and urged it straight up the steps. Song Yanqing followed, with Chen Guishuo bringing up the rear. At the summit stood an old-fashioned temple in tranquil surroundings. A young monk sweeping before the gate watched the three men dismount and came forward to greet them.

"Three benefactors, the hour is already late. May I ask—"

Song Yanqing gave him a cold, arrogant glance, shoved him aside with one hand, and strode straight through the gate. Xu Yitian and Chen Guishuo led their horses directly through the main entrance after him. The young monk threw down his broom and ran back inside to report the intrusion. Before long, more than a dozen strong young monks rushed out. Carrying staffs, they formed a line across the main courtyard and blocked the three men. Their robes had been washed so often they had faded nearly white, giving the whole group a rather impoverished appearance. Song Yanqing reached into the money pouch at his waist, grabbed a handful of coins, and tossed them out. Coins clattered around the monks' feet. Every one of them was gold.

This was no small sum. The monks exchanged looks.

"Incense money," Song Yanqing said indifferently. "Prepare guest rooms for us. Feed the horses your best fodder."

"So the benefactors are worshippers!" The managing monk beneath the eaves of the main hall gave an exclamation and hurried over. With a wave, he told the staff-bearing monks to lower their weapons, then personally welcomed Song Yanqing. "These are troubled times, and there are no shortage of bandits in the mountains. When we saw the three benefactors forcing your way in with horses, we mistook you for villains. A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. Please, come inside."

He gestured toward the reception room. Others took the three horses away to be cared for, while the monks with staffs began picking up the gold scattered across the ground.

Walking beneath the covered corridor with his hands behind his back, Song Yanqing asked, "Are you the abbot here?"

"No, no. This humble monk is Ruhu, Head of the East Courtyard." Ruhu introduced himself with exceptional politeness. From his manner, he seemed to have taken Song Yanqing for a wealthy patron worth flattering.

Song Yanqing gave him a sidelong glance. "Have your abbot come see me."

Ruhu shook his head. "Unfortunately, the abbot has gone out to visit a friend. He won't return until tomorrow."

That night, Song Yanqing and the other two settled into the guest quarters. Smoke from the temple kitchen had only recently died away when two young monks brought them a vegetarian meal. Once the food had been laid out, the two monks withdrew. Xu Yitian walked to the table and took a look. It was nothing more than a pot of rice soaked in vegetable broth, simple to the point of austerity. Xu Yitian took out a small porcelain bottle and shook a little white powder into the pot. He stirred it with a ladle. His expression quickly changed. The food was beginning to darken.

"Senior Brother," he called softly.

Song Yanqing and Chen Guishuo came over. One glance was enough to change their expressions as well. The meal was poisoned. Fortunately, they had tested it. Otherwise, who knew what might have happened? Who would have imagined that a temple that looked so respectable could do something like this?

"Pack of thieving baldies!" Chen Guishuo snarled, turning to go settle accounts with the monks.

Song Yanqing grabbed his arm. He drew both men close, and the three put their heads together and whispered for a while. Afterward, Xu Yitian carried the pot to a secluded corner and disposed of the food. He returned and made a few minor adjustments to the dishes and bowls on the table. The three exchanged nods. Then, one after another, they collapsed to the floor and lay motionless. Less than an hour later, one corner window was quietly eased open, leaving a narrow crack. An eye peered inside, then vanished. Before long, footsteps sounded outside. The door opened. Two staff-bearing monks entered first, followed by an old monk in a kasaya. He was short, lean, and slightly stooped, with dark skin, a long white beard, and bright, spirited eyes.

This was Yuan Fang, abbot of Nanshan Temple. Several more staff-bearing monks followed him in. Ruhu, Head of the East Courtyard, stood on the old monk's left, while Ruming, Head of the West Courtyard, stood on his right.

A disciple held up the empty pot. "They ate it all."

Ruming looked at the men lying on the floor, pressed his palms together, and sighed. "Sin, sin. Abbot, we've taken lives again."

Yuan Fang sighed as well. "The world is in such chaos that the common people can barely survive. Who still has money to donate for incense? Nanshan Temple is far from any city and buried deep in the mountains. If we don't think of some way to bring in money, where is the incense money supposed to come from? If everyone can't even fill his stomach, and the monks all leave until the place falls apart, how are we supposed to talk about reviving Nanshan Temple? Give me a few more years. Once I've saved enough money, I'll build a great temple in the city and fulfill the former abbot's dying wish. Then incense money will come in every day, and we won't need to do this anymore."

Several monks sighed. Ruhu gestured. A number of the staff-bearing monks stepped forward to search the three bodies. Then everything changed.

"Ah!"

One monk screamed as Xu Yitian kicked him flying. He crashed backward into several others and sent them tumbling.

Song Yanqing surged to his feet at the same instant, seized another monk by the throat, and sneered, "What a fine den of thieving monks, murdering travelers for their wealth!"

With a twist of his hand, there was a crack. He snapped the monk's neck outright. Then he reached backward through empty air. The treasured sword lying behind him sprang from its sheath and flew into his grasp. Three flashes of sword light erupted. The monks swung their wooden staffs desperately to block, but how could they possibly hold out? In the blink of an eye, flesh and blood flew and screams filled the room. The survivors fled in panic. Only Abbot Yuan Fang remained behind, swinging his monk's staff with a rapid series of clangs to cover their retreat. A faint demonic aura began rising from his body.

"So you're a demon!" Song Yanqing sneered.

He brought his sword down in a vicious chop. Yuan Fang raised the monk's staff to block it. The impact numbed Song Yanqing's arm. Yuan Fang was plainly no match for Song Yanqing and his companions. Any one of them could almost beat him so badly he had no strength to strike back. Aside from astonishing brute force, his cultivation genuinely was nothing impressive. What surprised the three of them was that Yuan Fang had already taken several sword blows. His clothes had been shredded, yet the blades had failed to wound his body, as though he wore some kind of protective armor. Otherwise, those cuts would already have cost him his life. Through the tears in his clothing, something furry could be seen underneath.

When a sword edge scraped across it, it actually produced the rasp of metal against metal. The three quickly discovered Yuan Fang's weakness. Slashing and chopping did little, but a thrust could pierce his flesh. Even though Yuan Fang was thick-skinned and repeatedly managed to avoid vital points, taking several thrusts in succession was still more than he could comfortably endure. Blood dripped steadily behind him as he dodged. The fight spilled into the courtyard. Song Yanqing raised one hand slightly. Xu Yitian and Chen Guishuo stopped attacking. The three positioned themselves in a triangle and surrounded Yuan Fang, who now looked bedraggled and terrified.

By this point, every monk in the temple seemed to have appeared. Besides the dozen or so who had just died at the hands of Song Yanqing's group, another twenty-odd monks remained. All held weapons, their faces filled with fear. Having witnessed the trio's strength, none dared approach. Yet none seemed willing to abandon Yuan Fang and flee either. Blood dripping from his wounds, Yuan Fang panted heavily and held his monk's staff crosswise as he slowly turned, guarding against all three men.

"Do you want to die, or do you want to live?" Song Yanqing asked calmly.

Yuan Fang gritted his teeth. "If I say I want to live, will you let me go?"

"Of course it won't be that easy," Song Yanqing replied. "If you want to live, serve me. Obey properly and I'll help you fulfill your wish of building a temple in the city. I can even arrange an official identity for you with the court. Otherwise, you're a demon. Wherever you run, your life will be in danger. Cultivators who slay demons and exorcise devils won't let you off easily."

He turned his hand over and revealed a token. The single character engraved on it—Punishment—made Yuan Fang's pupils contract... A while later, the surviving monks were cleaning up the corpses of their companions with the grief of foxes mourning a dead rabbit. Song Yanqing and the others moved into another set of clean guest rooms. Inside, Yuan Fang had already had his wounds bandaged in front of the three men. He dismissed the disciple who had treated him. Now Song Yanqing and the others had clearly seen the golden fur covering his body. So he truly was an unimpressive little demon who had not even completed his transformation into human form.

Watching Yuan Fang put his clothes back on, Song Yanqing asked curiously, "As far as I know, Nanshan Temple has existed for quite a few years. How did a group of monks end up letting a demon become their abbot?"

He had already confirmed in the fight that the other monks were genuine humans. The abbot alone was a demon.

How could that not be strange?

Yuan Fang dressed slowly to avoid tearing open his wounds and gave a bitter smile. "Actually, I'm not Abbot Yuan Fang..."

Only after he explained the truth from beginning to end did Song Yanqing and the others understand. The real Abbot Yuan Fang had passed away two years earlier. As for this one, he was a bear that the monks of Nanshan Temple had found in the mountains and taken in two hundred years ago. Perhaps because he constantly heard Buddhist teachings, he gradually developed intelligence. On his own, he comprehended a method for absorbing the spiritual qi of Heaven and Earth and slowly gained cultivation. From then on, he cultivated in the mountains. When his cultivation became sufficient for him to begin transforming, the person he used as a model was Abbot Yuan Fang. That was why he had taken on Yuan Fang's appearance.

His cultivation was simply still too weak for the transformation to be complete. He had more progress to make. Things had also happened much as he said. The times were chaotic, and Nanshan Temple was difficult to maintain. While the real Abbot Yuan Fang was still alive, it had been this bear demon who continually brought back wealth and supplies from outside, barely keeping the temple from collapsing. When the real abbot passed away, he did not want Nanshan Temple to disappear, so he entrusted the temple to the bear. Unfortunately, in order to fulfill the old abbot's final wish, the fellow began leading the monks into activities that could not bear the light of day.

They did not merely poison travelers inside the temple and murder them for their wealth. He also led the monks of Nanshan Temple to set ambushes along the roads and rob passersby. Some of the monks had been able to tolerate quietly living off the wealth he brought back before. But once they were expected to personally take part in robbery, quite a few could no longer stomach it.

Buddhist disciples becoming highwaymen?

What kind of thing was that?

They left. Of the temple's original hundred-odd people, fewer than half remained. And now their latest attempt at murder and robbery had landed directly on Song Yanqing.

"I've actually done plenty of good deeds too," Yuan Fang emphasized. "There used to be several groups of bandits hiding in these mountains. I secretly led Nanshan Temple's disciples to wipe them out. Whenever another group came, we cleared them away too. Those bandits were far too wicked. They robbed everyone they met and dragged any women they caught back to their strongholds. We're different. We only rob rich people. We absolutely never take so much as a needle or thread from the poor. When we make an especially good haul, we even donate grain to nearby villages from time to time. If you don't believe me, go ask around. Ever since I became abbot, the nearby villages have never needed to worry about bandits again. They could sleep with their doors open at night if they wanted. They don't know it was Nanshan Temple that solved the problem for them, but they'll only say good things about Nanshan Temple, never a single bad word. Nanshan Temple's reputation around here is absolutely spotless!"

He stressed the point repeatedly, clearly intent on proving that he was, in fact, a good person. Song Yanqing and the others stared at him, speechless. This abbot had opened their eyes.

What kind of temple abbot was this?

He was obviously a bandit boss!

[End of Chapter 27]