Chapter Thirty-Two: The Ingenious Acquisition of the Sacred Armor

The Wenshu Courtyard is considered the most revered place by the scholarly monks within the Shaolin Temple. The courtyard is filled with learned high monks who spend their days studying scriptures without the need for martial training or labor. They can freely enter the Sutra Repository to consult texts without needing approval from the abbot. When major ceremonies or teachings by esteemed monks occur, the scholarly monks not only enjoy fine food but also receive generous monetary rewards, which is quite enviable. Upon realizing this is a celestial-like place, Jia Neng was overwhelmed with excitement and tears welled up in his eyes. He immediately prostrated himself before Xuan Huai, bowing several times, exclaiming, "Thank you, Master, for your great compassion!" Xuan Huai replied, "Do not be in such a rush to express your gratitude. There are certain rules to enter the Wenshu Courtyard, such as needing to read a sutra." Jia Neng asked, "Master, what does it mean to read a sutra?" Xuan Huai took out a sutra from his sleeve, saying, "This sutra originally requires a full reading to gain entry into the Wenshu Courtyard. However, considering your hard work, you need only read one page. Go ahead and give it a try." He handed the sutra to Jia Neng, who struggled to hold it, flipping it awkwardly as if carrying a thousand-pound stone. After staring blankly for a while, he lamented, "Master, I have never learned to read since childhood and cannot recognize a single character. How can I read this sutra?" Xuan Huai sighed, "What a pity. Since you cannot read, it seems you cannot enter the Wenshu Courtyard. What a missed opportunity." He shook his head repeatedly, sighing. Jia Neng lay on the ground, pleading, "Master, help me! At least let me enjoy a day of peace in the Wenshu Courtyard, and I will be content." Xuan Huai secretly chuckled but said, "Get up. As long as you work honestly, the Shaolin Temple will not mistreat you."

Upon returning to the Xuanjing Meditation Room, Xuan Huai informed, "I report to the abbot that Jia Neng is an illiterate villager with very limited experience. I mentioned to him that I would elevate him to the Wenshu Courtyard, and he only craves its comforts, having no ulterior motives. I believe it poses no issue." Xuanjing replied, "If that is the case, go ahead and make the arrangements. The Sutra Repository must be repaired within the next few days."

Naturally, Xuan Huai assigned the task to the construction department. Huiguang, not daring to delay, immediately ordered Jia Neng and the other monks to bring mud boards, picks, and other tools to the Sutra Repository. The guarding martial monk inspected the abbot's order and opened the door for them, then stood watch outside. Inside, the sutras were tightly sealed in brown oilcloth on the shelves. Only the innermost shelf was covered with bright red oilcloth, which was particularly small, resembling a bride hidden beneath a red veil at first glance. Jia Neng laughed, "One can tell that guarding the Sutra Repository is a hard life; year after year, they do not see a woman, so they dress the shelf like a bride, hoping it can cool their desires." The monks burst into laughter, and the leader of the guarding martial monks, Huiju, scolded jokingly, "You silly fellow, a dog’s mouth cannot spit out ivory! The treasures in that red cloth-covered shelf are priceless, containing the Yi Jin Jing and the Xi Sui Jing passed down from the Great Master Bodhidharma. We are not even fortunate enough to catch a glance, and you treat such treasures as if they were a bride!" Huiguang cleared his throat and said, "Huiju, mind your words; such confidential matters should not be spoken lightly." Huiju responded with a laugh, "Brother, you’re too cautious. Even if he were to see the sutras, he wouldn’t understand them." After the laughter subsided, the monks began their work, first removing the dilapidated roof, replacing it with new beams and rafters. They then covered it with reed mats, applied mud, and gradually laid tiles. The work was dusty and laborious, with the martial monks watching from a distance.

By the next evening, nearly half of the work was completed, and Jia Neng noticed water stains all over the walls of the Sutra Repository, with some areas already sprouting moss. He said to Huiguang, "The walls are soaked through; the bricks inside must be crumbling. If we delay, the wall will surely crack, and the Sutra Repository may collapse. It would be better to replace the bricks now and re-plaster with lime. The abbot will surely be pleased and commend the head monk for being thorough." Huiguang was delighted, but then thought, "Your idea is good, but the abbot has ordered that the roof be repaired within these few days. We won’t have time to fix the walls." Jia Neng replied, "Do not worry, Head Monk. I can repair the roof during the day and work on the walls at night with a lantern. It is not too much work; I can handle it alone." Huiguang happily said, "If you can do this, I will promote you to the position of deputy head of construction. Do not underestimate this position; each time you go down the mountain to purchase bricks and mats, you can earn three to five coins." Jia Neng was overjoyed.

That night, after the other monks finished their work and went to rest, Jia Neng took a lantern and a pickaxe to start digging into the wall, removing the crumbling bricks and piling them aside. The guarding martial monks knew he was repairing the brick wall but did not ask questions, merely chatting idly from a distance. By midnight, the martial monks were drowsy, leaning against the doorframe dozing off. Seeing his chance, Jia Neng quickly dug into the wall, pulling out a small iron box. When no one was looking, he stuffed it into his tool box. He continued to dig nonchalantly when suddenly he heard a hollow sound from the wall. With a swift motion, he struck with the pickaxe, causing a book to fall out. Jia Neng picked it up and saw that it was an ancient volume inscribed with the characters "Yi Jin Jing." Overjoyed, he hid the book in his bosom, hurriedly placed new bricks into the wall, mixed lime to plaster the surface anew, and felt an exhilaration within as he climbed to the roof, pretending to repair it while contemplating his escape.

As he was pondering, he suddenly saw a masked figure swiftly dart into the Sutra Repository like a ghost. The night-shift martial monks, being of lesser skill, were oblivious. Jia Neng quickly lay flat on the roof, afraid to move, watching to see what the person would do. The masked figure quietly lifted the oilcloth to inspect the sutras. In no time, he reached the innermost red cloth-covered shelf, lifted the cloth, and took out two books, glancing through them with a flash of joy before stuffing them into his bosom and leaping out through the roof hole. Jia Neng thought to himself that heaven was aiding him. He immediately shouted, "Thief! Thief!" The masked figure turned and saw Jia Neng, exclaiming, "Zhu Shitian! What are you doing here?!" Jia Neng was actually Li Duozuo, who had disguised himself to infiltrate the Shaolin Temple. However, Li Duozuo could not recall who this person was.

The martial monks below were instantly awakened, shouting loudly, while the masked figure swung his sword at Li Duozuo. Li Duozuo, not daring to use his martial skills, rolled off the roof, falling straight down into the courtyard. Even though he secretly used his internal energy to protect himself, the fall from the height of over twenty feet left him dazed and bruised, lying on the ground and repeatedly shouting, "Thief! Thief!"

The masked figure knew he could not linger and sprang away like a great roc toward the Mahavira Hall. Suddenly, a fierce wind swept in; without looking back, he knew it was the Shaolin Temple's Great Force Diamond Palm. The one pursuing him was Xuan Yun, the head monk of the Arhat Hall. The masked figure countered with several swift sword strikes, deflecting the palm's force. With a twist of his body, he landed on the roof of a monk's dormitory. The palm wind affected the Sutra Repository, causing a thunderous crash as a large hole opened up in the roof. Xuan Yun was furious, unleashing the "Weituo Offers the Pestle" with both palms, forcing the masked figure to leap several feet away. The powerful palm strike caused the dormitory roof to collapse instantly, and since the dormitory housed the scholarly monks of the Wenshu Courtyard, they, having never witnessed such a scene while chanting and meditating, screamed in panic, fleeing in disarray, their dignified appearances shattered.

The masked figure ran ahead while Xuan Yun chased closely behind, alternating palm strikes that barely missed the masked figure, sending debris flying from the roof as they broke openings in the ceiling.

At this time, dozens of skilled practitioners of the Xuan generation had already leapt onto the roof to encircle him. The remaining martial monks of the Hui generation held iron rods, guarding the mountain gate of the Shaolin Temple and forming the Arhat formation. The masked figure, seeing no hope of escaping through the front, turned back toward the rear mountain. Xuan Yun and the others, seeing this, felt reassured; traditionally, there was only one way down from the Shaolin Temple, the front gate, while the back mountain was a sheer cliff. No matter how skilled the masked figure was, a slip would lead to a fatal fall. The masked figure was cornered to the back mountain, where he would be trapped in a predicament with no way out. They did not rush but kept a safe distance behind.

As the masked figure was driven to the cliff, Li Duozuo noticed that the monks were all focused on capturing the masked figure. Seizing the opportunity, he got up and, holding his tool box, ran toward the construction department's dormitory. Along the way, a martial monk shouted at him. Li Duozuo yelled back, "That thief is very powerful; even Elder Xuan Yun cannot defeat him. I am going back to the dormitory to hide!" The martial monk scolded, "Jia Neng, you coward! A thief attacks, and instead of protecting the temple, you want to hide. Are you not afraid of severe punishment from the abbot in the future?" Li Duozuo replied defiantly, "The temple is protected by you martial monks; what can I, a mere mason, do? Am I supposed to fight with a trowel and mudboard?" With that, he disregarded the martial monk's scolding and ran away.

The masked figure indeed possessed remarkable agility, moving through the buildings as if they were empty. In an instant, he dashed past hundreds of monk quarters, arriving at the edge of the rear mountain cliff. The Xuan generation masters quickly followed. Xuan Yun halted about ten paces away and coldly said, "Who are you? Do you not know that stealing scriptures from Shaolin Temple is a capital offense? With your skills, few in the world can rival you. Taking those scriptures will not serve you well. If you can stop at the cliff and hand over the scriptures, considering your difficult path in cultivation, I can plead with the abbot on your behalf and possibly spare your life." The masked figure did not respond, leaping onto a gnarled pine tree, standing at the top. The tree's roots clung to the edge of the cliff while its crown extended out over the abyss. The mountain wind swayed the figure as he balanced on the treetop. Xuan Yun and the others thought he was preparing for a desperate struggle.

At that moment, a dozen skilled practitioners of the Xuan generation moved forward, holding hidden weapons like flying knives and concealed arrows, ready to strike. The masked figure leaned down, pulling out a large bundle from among the branches. With a flourish, he unfurled it, revealing a large piece of cloth tied at the corners with ropes. Gripping the ropes with one hand, he jumped down from the tree, descending the cliff. The cloth filled with air as it caught the wind, expanding like a huge umbrella, gently lowering him down. The monks were astonished and immediately retaliated, sending a rain of hidden weapons flying towards him. However, the strong winds in the valley had already blown them away, missing their target. In full view of everyone, the masked figure glided away like a mountain eagle.