Early the next morning, Sun Wangshi brought her young daughter, Sun Lichai. As expected, she was an exceptionally frail child; although she was already five years old, she looked more like three. Not only was she small and thin, but her complexion was also bluish, and her expression was weak.
The monks, hearing Simon speak, had already gathered around him, eager to hear the Wonderful Sound of the Bodhisattva again, and also curious to see how he would cure Sun Lichai.
Under everyone's gaze, Simon gently stroked the girl's head, and a faint wisp of smoke drifted from his mouth, entering her seven orifices.
From Simon's perspective, Sun Lichai's vital energy was like a flickering Candlelight. Her Emperor's Net Pearl was dim and lusterless, and the surrounding threads were precarious, as if she was about to depart from the human world and fall into the bitter sea of the six paths of reincarnation.
Was she afraid?
Simon's vital energy was like a warm spring breeze, bringing gentle rain, nourishing the withered sapling, allowing its drooping branches and leaves to slightly lift, feeling the unchanging sunlight of eons.
Visibly, the bluish pallor on Sun Lichai's face receded, revealing the natural tender white of her skin. Although still lacking color, she was much better, no longer appearing as if she could die at any moment.
"Cough, cough…" The little girl began to cough, her expression relaxed, but her eyes remained tightly shut.
Sun Wangshi was uncontrollably emotional, weeping softly.
The monks whispered among themselves, their faces showing joyful expressions.
Simon withdrew his hand and stopped exhaling his Innate Qi. He turned his gaze to the Abbot, who stepped forward a few paces, his demeanor respectful.
"There are many more children like this; we should try our best to save them," he said, then addressed Sun Wangshi, "My abilities are limited; I can only cure illnesses, but it is difficult to prolong life. Now that this child's chronic illness is gone, her future is uncertain. If she can learn martial arts, perhaps her fate can be changed."
His voice was that of a child, clear and bright, yet steady and distinct, with perfectly articulated words. The group of monks looked blissful upon hearing him, but if Simon were to say it himself, his voice was nothing special; the Bald Donkeys' state was one of self-move.
The Abbot echoed instructions to several elders, telling them to spread the news of the Buddha's Son's universal salvation. Then he bowed to Simon, assuming a listening posture.
Simon shook his head, "I have nothing more to say. Bring more books."
"Yes."
Thereafter, many families came seeking medical help, and they all witnessed firsthand the extraordinary divine powers of this young Bodhisattva. For a time, the incense offerings at Shaolin Temple flourished.
Every day, besides treating illnesses and observing the deer antlers, Simon spent his remaining free time reading books.
He delved into various miscellaneous studies: poetry, music, culinary arts, blacksmithing, arithmetic, and more, simply to pass the time.
In truth, he didn't understand many things and held many subjective biases, but this indeed broadened his horizons.
The only thing that made Simon feel very uncomfortable was many things related to metaphysics, such as Feng Shui, physiognomy, stargazing, etc. These conflicted with some of his past knowledge systems. Fortunately, Simon was a very open-minded person; since he was no longer on Earth, then dwelling on his former worldview was self-inflicted trouble. Who knew, perhaps this world was indeed flat and round? Perhaps there really were six paths of reincarnation?
Without practical experience, without seeing it with his own eyes, he dared not make presumptions.
Currently, Simon found life very peaceful and beautiful, with one exception: people always liked to stare at him.
The feeling of being the center of attention, the feeling of having no privacy, this was, in fact, deifying a person.
Religion always liked to involve some mysticism; every movement of Simon would be over-interpreted, as if one could discern the Great Dao of the universe from his actions.
The Bald Donkeys particularly believed this. For them, if they could comprehend a bit of Zen from Simon, it would greatly benefit their martial arts. After all, Shaolin martial arts emphasized the unity of Zen and martial arts; understanding Buddhist scriptures could translate into understanding martial arts cultivation methods. And if one's Buddhist attainment was insufficient, their martial arts could not reach a profound level.
Originally, expanding the Yi Gu Manor only required craftsmen, but later, the Eighteen Arhats voluntarily offered to help carry stone slabs and timber, lay bricks, and stack tiles. Whenever they had a moment, they would intently watch Simon.
For a time, the quiet courtyard was filled with shiny, bald heads. They carried giant stones weighing hundreds or even thousands of catties, one in each hand, moving back and forth without their feet touching the ground, their expressions unchanged. They were excellent laborers, no different from heavy machinery like excavators and cranes.
The monks' vital energy was abundant and fierce; they moved like rolling rocks down a mountain and stood still like bronze walls and iron fortresses, which somewhat astonished Simon.
Is the martial power of the Taiwu World really that high?
Jueguang, one of the Eighteen Arhats, had been secretly sneaking into the side room these past few days. He saw Simon constantly watching his fellow disciples and thought he was interested in martial arts, which made him happy. So he approached him and asked, "Do you want to learn martial arts? How about I teach you the Colorless Zen Skill? This is a Tier 6 internal skill."
In the Taiwu World, all things have their own grades, from low to high, classified as Lower Nine, Middle Eight, Upper Seven, Odd Six, Secret Five, Extreme Four, Super Three, Absolute Two, and the most exquisite Divine One.
Each sect only allows individuals of corresponding status to learn martial arts of the appropriate grade.
And for a Shaolin martial monk to learn the Colorless Zen Skill, he must be a disciple of the Bodhi Academy. Jueguang, as one of the Eighteen Arhats, could only cultivate Extreme Four tier skills himself.
Simon stared out the window for a moment longer, then withdrew his gaze, sat cross-legged, and ignored Jueguang.
The black Bald Donkey was a bit anxious, "Alas, Son of Buddha, do you dislike the Colorless Zen Skill? Then I'll go ask the Abbot to teach you the Muscle-Bone Changing Scripture and the Marrow Cleansing Scripture!"
The Muscle-Bone Changing Scripture was an Absolute Two tier skill, and the Marrow Cleansing Scripture was an even higher Divine One tier absolute art. But Jueguang believed that if Simon wanted to learn it, Shaolin would absolutely not conceal it.
He immediately ran off excitedly to find Zen Master Zixing, the Abbot.
A moment later, the Abbot rushed over, carrying Jueguang by the scruff of his neck.
With a thud, the old Bald Donkey threw the black Bald Donkey to the ground.
"Son of Buddha, please do not listen to this ruffian's nonsense. Martial arts cultivation cannot be achieved overnight, but must be progressive, practiced step by step from Lower Nine all the way to the pinnacle." Zen Master Zixing clasped his hands together, "This Serene Zen Skill is a method of meditation, but the Middle Eight tier Luohan Skill takes the path of external strength and internal decay. The Son of Buddha is still young and cannot endure such hardship."
Simon exhaled, without opening his eyes, and softly said, "I know."
"That is excellent… Jueguang! You are not to enter this Yi Gu Manor without permission in the future. If you disobey, go to the Discipline Hall and receive your beating!"
After Zixing finished speaking, he bowed to Simon and turned to leave.
Jueguang, who had been playing dead on the ground, scrambled up, "Hehe! The old monk has a sharp tongue but a soft heart, but now I can't visit you often!" He habitually patted Simon's head. His newly grown hair was dark and thick, called the Bodhisattva's Wonderful Form by the other monks. Relatively speaking, Jueguang was a very unconventional person; he would still rub the Bodhisattva's head.
"Not letting you practice martial arts may not be a bad thing. The Abbot said that our Buddhist sect has immeasurable divine powers. For someone as intelligent as you, cultivating the Dao is much better than our methods."
Simon smiled, not refuting him.
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