At the foot of Mount Shaoshi, incense-bearing pilgrims flowed like an unbroken stream.

Though the area now belonged to the Jin Empire, many devout visitors still made their way north from the Southern Song to burn incense and offer prayers.

After the»celestial  Dragon Era” of the Northern Song and into the current»Legend of the Condor Heroes» era of the Southern Song—and even later, the»Return of the Condor Heroes» period—Shaolin Temple’s presence in the martial world had dwindled significantly. It gave off the air of a reclusive sect, closed off from the world, no longer actively participating in Jianghu affairs.

In contrast, Taoist sects, which had been relatively quiet during the celestial  Dragon period, had started stepping into the spotlight during these more chaotic times. Wang Chongyang had even founded the Quanzhen Sect as part of his efforts to resist the Jin Empire.

It perfectly echoed that old saying:

«In a flourishing age, Buddhism rises; in times of chaos, Taoists descend from the mountains.»

And on this particular day, a pair of striking young companions arrived at the base of Mount Shaoshi.

The girl, fifteen or sixteen years of age, was charming and lovely, her complexion like polished jade, her features delicate and beautiful. Her radiant presence drew the gaze and admiration of passersby wherever she went.

Yet she ignored all of them, bouncing joyfully around the young man at her side like a lively butterfly.

When others turned to look at the man, their astonishment only grew. He was graceful and handsome, with an ethereal air that seemed more celestial  than human. Even the famously beautiful Pan An from ancient times might not compare.

But before long, the girl glanced up at the mountain path and pouted.
«Xing-gege, are you sure you’ll be okay going up the mountain alone? Rong’er’s worried about you.»

«Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.» Xuan Yuan patted Huang Rong’s hand lightly, ignoring the curious stares from onlookers.
«You know what Shaolin’s like. And besides, you carry Peach Blossom Island’s inner energy. Even though Shaolin hasn’t been active in the martial world for some time, I guarantee there are still masters guarding the temple. If they figure out your background, you might be in danger.»

Huang Rong knew Xuan Yuan was right. Her presence could only cause him trouble on the mountain.

But she still mumbled gloomily,
«Still… just the thought of not seeing Xing-gege for several days…»

«Who says we won’t see each other? Remember that little bird you played with for so long a few days ago?»

Her eyes lit up immediately.

During their journey, Huang Rong had been absolutely dazzled by the endless array of incredible tools hidden inside Xuan Yuan  ’s storage ring—it had opened up an entirely new world for her.

«You mean that… um, what was it—bionic drone?»

«Yep, that’s the one. When needed, it can also serve as a short-range communication device. There’s no signal base out here, so the range isn’t very far—but covering Mount Shaoshi is no problem.»

«Rong’er, just find an inn here at the base of the mountain and rest for a few days. I’ll take time to contact you every day.»

Hearing that she’d still be able to talk to him, Huang Rong immediately perked up again.

«Then Xing-gege, you have to be careful, okay? If anything dangerous happens, immediately let Rong’er know—I’ll rush up to save you!»

Though a little shy, she took both of Xuan Yuan  ’s hands in her own and spoke with solemn sincerity.

After saying goodbye, Xuan Yuan made the journey up the mountain alone.

Upon entering Shaolin, Xuan Yuan unexpectedly found himself reluctant to kneel or bow before the temple’s many statues of Buddha. There was a strange resistance deep in his heart.

It was as if some unseen force was warning him…

If you kneel, something terrible will happen.

This formless premonition stirred unease in Xuan Yuan  ’s chest. Just as he was lost in thought, a monk appeared beside him without warning.

«Amitabha. Benefactor, why do you stand here lost in thought, gazing into the void?»

Xuan Yuan quickly clasped his hands and offered a polite bow.
«Master, greetings.»

Then, as though by sleight of hand, he reached into his sleeve and slipped a thick stack of silver notes into the monk’s robes.

The monk’s eyebrow twitched. But in the blink of an eye, the silver had disappeared into his person. His expression softened at once, face now full of kindly warmth.

«Master,» Xuan Yuan said with a smile,»I wish to pray for blessings on behalf of my mother. I hope to hand-copy several Buddhist scriptures. I wonder if your venerable temple might allow this humble request?»

As he spoke, another stack of silver notes changed hands.

The monk’s grin grew so wide that the wrinkles in his face formed into deep folds.

«Amitabha, what a devout and sincere offering to Buddha. Naturally, our humble temple must open the Gate of Convenience for such a devoted soul.»

This monk could spin a story faster than he could chant a sutra. Xuan Yuan hadn’t bowed before a single Buddha statue, yet here he was, labeled a»devoted soul.»

«May I ask which scriptures the benefactor wishes to copy?»

Xuan Yuan had come prepared. He immediately replied,
«The Lotus Sutra, Avatamsaka Sutra, Shurangama Sutra, Long Agama Sutra, Lankavatara Sutra, and the Earth Store Sutra.»

The monk was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected Xuan Yuan to want to copy so many scriptures in one go. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, another bundle of silver was pressed into his hands.

He changed tone instantly.

«Amitabha, the benefactor truly has a fated bond with the Buddha. Please, follow this humble monk. I shall prepare a side room for you, and arrange for the scriptures to be delivered shortly.»

Seeing such generosity—and considering that copying a few Buddhist texts was hardly a security concern—this delicate-looking noble youth, who clearly didn’t know martial arts, was treated as nothing more than a wealthy pilgrim.

On the way, Xuan Yuan casually asked,
»I’ve heard that your temple’s versions of the Lotus Sutra, Long Agama Sutra, and Lankavatara Sutra were penned by Master Bodhidharma himself?»

The monk clasped his hands together and nodded.
«Indeed, that is correct.»

Xuan Yuan smiled.
«Would it be possible for me to copy the original manuscripts?»

The monk had no objection, and Xuan Yuan  ’s heart settled.

Having spent so much silver, he was naturally treated well. The room prepared for him was one of the finest at Shaolin. The air was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood, and from within, one could hear the distant, soothing chimes of temple bells.

Had he not just witnessed that monk’s greedy face, Xuan Yuan might have truly praised this place as a sanctified land of Buddhism.

Before long, a young monk arrived, arms full of thick scripture volumes.

«Benefactor, these are the sutras you requested. Brush, ink, paper, and inkstone have also been prepared. Do you need anything else?»

«No, thank you, little master.»

The young monk had never seen someone like Xuan Yuan before—his appearance otherworldly, like a figure descended from the heavens. Blushing fiercely, the monk awkwardly waved his hands, then pressed his palms together and murmured»Amitabha» in a flustered tone before respectfully retreating and closing the door behind him.

Outside, a bird landed silently on the edge of the roof—its eyes lively, tilting its head now and then as it observed its surroundings.

Inside, Xuan Yuan watched the transmitted imagery from the bird’s perspective. Once he confirmed no one was nearby, he finally let out a quiet breath of relief.

There was no need to rush. He casually flipped open the Lotus Sutra and began copying.

Though he had never practiced calligraphy, his superhuman control over his muscles allowed him to quickly adapt. After some early awkwardness, his writing grew smooth and precise.

Though the characters lacked the flair of a true master, they mirrored the original script almost perfectly—steady, clean, and pleasing to the eye.

By dinner, the same young monk returned and knocked gently to deliver a vegetarian meal.

Upon seeing that Xuan Yuan had already finished copying the Lotus Sutra in less than half a day, the young monk stood stunned, his eyes wide with disbelief.

What he didn’t know was that once Xuan Yuan grew accustomed to the motion, his hand speed had increased rapidly. His brush danced across the page like a dragon—no hesitation, no pause.