In the early Tang dynasty, the Thirteen Shaolin Staff Monks rendered great service to the empire. For their aid in battle, Emperor Taizong of Tang rewarded them with a thousand acres of fertile land, a water-mill, and bestowed honors upon each monk who fought. From that day, Shaolin monks were recognized as warrior-monks, their renown spreading far and wide. Shaolin's name thundered across the martial world, standing at the very summit of Wulin. As the saying goes: "When earth piles into a mountain, wind and rain arise; when water pools into an abyss, dragons are born."
But prosperity is always followed by decline. Shaolin's arts, once unrivaled, had grown feeble with time—not by one night's decay, but by generations of neglect. The rot was deep, difficult to reverse.
The Chief Monk, Běnguāng, frowned, his face heavy with worry. In a grave tone he said:"This must be a misunderstanding of Shaolin's present state. You two were among our finest disciples; it is your duty to shoulder the task of reviving our martial legacy. Let go of past grievances, free yourselves from obsession, and you will find peace. Come back to Shaolin with us, return and plan the future alongside your brethren."
Yuánguāng only gave a cold, disdainful laugh."Return? Return for what? To chant sutras day after day, to live that dull and joyless life of fruitless training, with no battlefield to prove ourselves? We have chosen to walk the Jianghu. Today we seize Daqin Temple, and here we shall forge our own power!"
Běnguāng's brows knotted tighter, his voice low and angry:"So you truly refuse to see reason? Will you not leave even a shred of respect for Shaolin?"
Yuánguāng smirked, eyes full of mockery:"Shaolin? We severed ties long ago. And you, still addressing us as if you hold authority? From this day forth, we have nothing to do with Shaolin. You do not meddle in our affairs, and we will not trouble Shaolin. We walk our own paths—the river flows east, the well water keeps to its own."
At these words, Běnguāng's anger flared."You truly believe Shaolin cannot deal with the likes of you?"
Yuántōng gave a contemptuous snort."Chief Monk though you may be, even your skills would not impress my nephew Yuánguāng."
Rage surged in Běnguāng's chest. He stepped forward, voice like thunder:"So you think yourselves mighty? Very well! Today I shall show you the true power of Shaolin arts!"
Yuánguāng smirked, his tone icy:"Our skills may be modest—but they are enough to surpass yours."
"Such arrogance!" Běnguāng roared. "Let me weigh your worth!"With that, he advanced, body flowing like a dragon, palms sweeping out in powerful arcs. A storm of energy blasted forth, surging straight toward Yuánguāng.
Yuánguāng stood calm, sneering:"Spare me your posturing—if you would purge us, then show some real skill!"
The Chief Monk's fury erupted. Palm after palm hammered forth, each strike aimed at Yuánguāng's vitals. Yet Yuánguāng's footwork was deft, his movements light and fluid. Every blow missed.
Smiling faintly, he jeered:"In truth, Chief Monk, your skill is even beneath that of Uncle Běnxīn."
The words cut deep. For the chief of Shaolin's monks to be mocked thus by a traitorous disciple—how could Běnguāng endure it? His face darkened, his attacks grew ever fiercer, a tempest of strikes forcing Yuánguāng back step by step.
But Yuánguāng remained calm."Am I arrogant? Perhaps. But tell me, Uncle—how long has it been since you entered the Thousand Buddha Hall to train? You live in comfort, waited on hand and foot. Have you forgotten the hardships of true cultivation?"
The hall fell silent. Běnguāng's face changed, struck to the core. Since taking the high seat, he had indeed grown accustomed to ease. His practice had not ceased, yet it lacked the bitter edge of youth. Without this confrontation, he might never have realized it.
Still, pride held him. He barked back:"Traitor! If you were truly so skilled, why did you fall so easily at the Rebel-Suppressing Assembly? Shaolin's name was shamed by the likes of you!"
At this, Yuánguāng's face twisted, his fists clenching. That defeat—at the hands of an unknown youth—was his deepest humiliation. Scorned by his brothers upon return, mocked as Shaolin's disgrace, his heart had curdled into hatred.
He gave a bitter laugh."Chief Monk, enough boasting! Your skills would not even rank high within Shaolin. Allow me to show you what true martial strength is!"
With that, Yuánguāng's eyes snapped shut, his qi sinking to his dantian. Energy surged, bones crackled, power radiated like storm winds. With a sudden leap, he struck, left hand darting like lightning for Běnguāng's chest!
The Chief Monk hesitated, just a breath too slow. Yuánguāng's heart leapt with grim satisfaction: So it is true—years of comfort have dulled him.
He pressed harder, fists, palms, kicks raining down in a blur. His entire arsenal burst forth, waves of strikes crashing like a storm tide.
Běnguāng staggered, unable to resist. Shame and regret gnawed at him—Shaolin's Chief Monk, overwhelmed by a renegade! Each step back was a blow to the temple's honor.
Wú Tōng, watching from the side, sighed deeply. "If even Shaolin's Chief Monk can be brought so low, what future remains for the temple? Unless someone truly revives its spirit, decline is inevitable."
The duel raged on until a furious shout shook the courtyard. Yuánguāng's eyes flashed with killing intent. He lunged, twin fists blazing like thunderbolts. With a resounding crash, Běnguāng was hurled across the floor, blood spraying from his lips before he collapsed unconscious!
At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed. Abbot Yuánzhì himself arrived with a band of monks. Seeing Běnguāng fallen, rage and grief filled his eyes. He ordered monks to bear the Chief away for treatment, then turned, his gaze burning like fire.
"Yuánguāng!" he thundered. "You betray your sect, and now you would seize Daqin Temple itself? Do you mean to set yourselves against Shaolin?"
Yuánguāng's expression hardened, voice seething with resentment."Yuánzhì! You sit as Abbot, basking in honor, disciples to serve your every need. What would you know of the sweat and toil we endured in the Thousand Buddha Hall?"
The Abbot's brow furrowed, voice cold:"If you had truly trained with such devotion, how could you have been defeated so easily by an unknown youth at the assembly? Your failure is your own—how dare you blame the temple?"
The words pierced Yuánguāng like knives. That shameful defeat, now raised again before all—it broke the last of his restraint. His eyes blazed, his features twisted with fury.
"Yuánzhì!" he roared. "If you have any courage, face me now! Within ten moves, I will cast you to the ground!"
The Abbot gave a chilling laugh."You? Defeated by a nameless boy, yet you dare such arrogance?"
Yuánguāng's fury erupted."Enough! I will show you whether I am cat or dog!"
With a sudden leap, his body shot forward like lightning, palms surging with killing force. The Abbot stood firm, eyes narrowed. In an instant, the two powers clashed—the battle had begun!