After Yuan Guang, Yuan Tong, and the True God Palace retinue departed, the Shaolin abbot, Master Benjue, gazed at their receding figures with a grave expression, silent for a long time. At last he sighed heavily and said in a deep voice:
"This old monk had intended to cleanse our gates today. Yet, my strength fell short. The Four Great Banner Leaders were all defeated, and not a single Shaolin disciple could prevail. Thus, the two traitors left openly and unchallenged, shaming Shaolin before the world. Today's disgrace is the disgrace of Shaolin! Moreover, even my own cultivation cannot match those two monks—how can this not give one pause?"
These words left the gathered monks pale with shock. Silence fell all around. Shaolin had long prided itself as the very peak of the martial world, yet now it stood powerless before its own renegades. Even the abbot admitted he could not match them. How could this not strike terror into their hearts? Should word spread, Shaolin's repute might never recover, and the temple would become the laughingstock of the martial world.
But Abbot Benjue neither concealed nor denied it. He knew all too well that Shaolin had grown complacent in long years of peace, its martial learning stagnant, its flaws deeply rooted. Without reform, today's disgrace might be but the beginning—ruin might well follow. He looked around solemnly, his tone firm though low:
"Today's defeat was no accident, but the fruit of long decline. Shaolin must reform completely if we are to restore our former glory!"
In truth, the abbot's vision reached further than that of the Banner Leaders. Unlike them, he did not cling to brute force or pride; he had the courage to admit fault. The Four Leaders had rushed forward blindly and were crushed, never reflecting upon their own failings. Were Benjue to do the same, it would only heap further humiliation upon Shaolin.
A true man of virtue knows when to advance and when to retreat, when to be soft and when to be hard, when to appear weak and when to show strength. As the saying goes, "Only by knowing shame can one become truly brave." At this moment, Patriarch Aluos of the Church of the East, deeply moved, stepped forward and said with cupped hands:
"We thank Shaolin for handling this matter between our two temples. Since it no longer concerns Shaolin directly, I beg Abbot not to trouble himself further. If Shaolin cannot act openly, I suggest entrusting this affair to Lord Wu Tong of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness. His hall serves the imperial court, and Shaolin's ties with the throne run deep. Lord Wu is upright and impartial; he will see this resolved justly."
Benjue's brows stirred slightly. Entrusting this to Wu Tong is indeed a fitting solution. He slowly nodded.
"That Shaolin has failed to purge its own traitors is a shame before all under heaven—but it is also the karma of many years. In the old days, when the Thirteen Shaolin Staff Monks aided the Tang, all monks trained hard and fought with valor. But in times of peace, basking in imperial favor, our monks fell into comfort and vanity. The steel edge of Shaolin was dulled. Today, when our Four Leaders were all defeated by those two renegades, it is proof beyond doubt.
"From this day forth, our rules must be amended. All Shaolin monks must rigorously train in martial skills. Those who do not reach the standard shall never hold office here. Without true skill, none shall enjoy high rank. Shaolin must stand upon martial strength, to restore our century-old prestige! As for the two monks Yuan Guang and Yuan Tong—let Lord Wu Tong handle them."
Wu Tong immediately stepped forward and bowed:
"I accept the charge. But may I ask, what judgment does Abbot wish for these two?"
Benjue pondered briefly, his gaze deep, then replied slowly:
"This matter must not be spread abroad. These two were born at the wrong time. Had they found true guidance in earlier days, they might never have strayed. Remember—the Thirteen Shaolin Staff Monks of old rendered service to the Tang and were richly rewarded with land and titles. Yet in recent decades, our monks have grown lax. Only these two honed their martial skills. But after their defeat at the Heroes' Assembly, they suffered mockery and scorn, bred resentment, and finally betrayed Shaolin. Is this not, in truth, the fault of Shaolin itself?
"Therefore, I ask you, Lord Wu: persuade them with reason, move them with compassion, temper them with righteous power. Urge them to return from the path of betrayal. If they repent, it will be a blessing for the whole martial world. If they remain obstinate—then deal with them swiftly, lest they bring further calamity."
Wu Tong was shaken. The abbot's compassion ran deep—he would not simply call for their deaths, but hoped still to redeem them. Such magnanimity was rare indeed. He bowed solemnly:
"I understand the Abbot's intent. I shall do my utmost to turn them back, and will not fail in this trust!"
Benjue's eyes softened with approval.
"Lord Wu, Heaven has favored you with both fortune and wisdom. This charge I now entrust to you. The night grows late. We must return to Shaolin. Farewell! Amitabha."
The monks chanted the Buddha's name as one, then withdrew slowly. Patriarch Aluos and Wu Tong with his companions bowed in return, watching as the Shaolin party departed into the night.
Wu Tong reflected silently. Their journey to Shaolin had been to resolve the quarrel between the two temples. Though the struggle with the traitors had taken an unexpected turn, the misunderstanding was cleared; that was merit enough. And since the traitors had broken with Shaolin, their future actions would not implicate the temple. Yet he could not help but wonder: would Yuan Guang and Yuan Tong soon return with the True God Palace to seize temples anew?
For that reason, Wu Tong and the Eastern monks remained lodging at the Da Qin Temple, wary of a renewed assault. Though they had no wish to shed more blood, the outcome lay in the balance. If the renegades joined hands with the True God Palace and pressed their demands, the Church of the East would have no choice but to resist. Wu Tong, however, pondered deeply how best to guide the two monks back to the righteous path.
Two days later, at dawn, a band of men arrived at Da Qin Temple. At their head were none other than Yuan Guang and Yuan Tong.
The abbot, Patriarch Jiade, came forth from the temple gates and called out in a ringing voice:
"I wonder, Master Yuan Guang, what business brings you here today?"
The two monks exchanged glances, their minds clearly made up. Yuan Guang said:
"Patriarch Jiade, I have come today to request the loan of your temple. We two shall cultivate our practice here. We ask that the monks of your Church vacate the premises."
The other Patriarchs, along with Wu Tong, also came forth. Hearing this, Jiade's face hardened as he replied sternly:
"I heard with my own ears Shaolin's abbot rebuke you two—seizing another's temple is an affront to Heaven itself! I beg you to think twice before acting."
Yuan Tong interjected coldly:
"This has nothing to do with Shaolin any longer. We are borrowing this place for our cultivation. Let your monks leave at once, or do not blame us for showing no mercy."
Wu Tong had intended not to intervene too hastily, but since the Shaolin abbot had entrusted him with full authority, he stepped forward and declared:
"I am Wu Tong, Twelfth Lord of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, acting under imperial mandate. A few days ago, I received the Shaolin abbot's charge to handle this matter. Today I speak in his stead."
At the sound of Wu Tong's name, both monks started in alarm. His reputation had already spread far and wide across the martial world—this young hero was known as a peerless master. To find him present here meant their plan faced formidable obstacles. They exchanged glances, then asked with forced calm:
"Since we have already severed ties with Shaolin, what more has the abbot to say to us?"
At this, Patriarch Aluos sighed and said earnestly:
"The abbot's heart is full of compassion. He blames himself for the injustices you suffered, and urges you to turn back from the sea of bitterness. The shore of redemption lies but one step away—do not persist in error!"