Why do I have so many masters?

Ci Yuan retracted his right hand, gazed at the youth before him, fell silent for a moment, and slowly said,

"This Prajna Palm Technique, originated from the eighth Abbot Grandmaster of our temple, you must diligently and rigorously practice it every day, you cannot neglect it..."

"Disciple understands."

Ci Yuan nodded, then took a step forward, his figure swiftly moved, and he appeared tens of meters away, nodding to indicate Wang Anfeng to stay put while he calmly rolled up the sleeves of his monk's robe and started to demonstrate the palm technique right there.

At first, it appeared simple and transparent, yet it did not display any other grand or vigorous intents. From its simplicity, an extraordinary sense was hidden. With each move and form, he expounded all the profound mysteries of the palm technique. His prowess in fist and palm techniques was immensely profound, purely in terms of fistwork, he was a grandmaster who could be termed as epoch-shattering. Now, imparting this to his close disciple, he naturally exerted all his effort, even analyzing the parts that were difficult for ordinary people to comprehend in a clear and understandable manner.

After performing the palm technique several times in succession, the monk slowly retracted his aura.

His cultivation realm was the Second Rank of the Eight Part Prajna, Vajra Prajna, which in terms of grandness and might, was not inferior to the mighty power of Vajra. Presently, in order not to affect Wang Anfeng, he forcibly suppressed his usual style of martial arts. This several bouts of technique, thus, required him to forcibly restrain his instincts, which was quite challenging and left him feeling slightly fatigued mentally.

Looking up, he saw that Wang Anfeng had already entered a state of self-forgetfulness, which brought him considerable relief. He brought his palms together and used the Buddhist Lion's Roar, not to attack but to utilize the mastery of subtleties as Dharma thunder, to oscillate distractions and help Wang Anfeng comprehend the essence of the movements. He chanted,

"If in the long night you are restless, with thoughts flying about, how can you tame them? Take the scattered thoughts, and probe the source of scattering, find it nowhere, then where can scattered thoughts reside? By probing the probing mind, there lies where the probing mind is tranquil?"

"The wisdom that perceives is inherently empty, and the objects it perceives are also still. Stillness that is not still is because there is no one who can be still; perception that does not perceive is because there is nothing to be perceived. Both mind and perception are tranquil, thoughts are peaceful. Not seeking externally, not persisting internally, both paths are obliterated, the single nature is content. This single verse is the true essence of Prajna Palm Martial Arts, remember this well, remember this well."

Inadvertently shaken by the Dharma sound, Wang Anfeng had the essence of the movements imprinted deep within his consciousness. At a distance, the Shaolin bell, pulled by Ci Yuan's Qi Mechanism, resonated thunderously, sending its deep bell tones reverberating over the mountaintop, cleansing mundane thoughts, turning the area around Copper Man Lane as the center, clearing the skies over the vast Shaoshi Mountain, clouds dispersing and the air currents moving like waves towards the distance.

A single falling leaf was set in motion by this, rising with the wind, fluttering unknowingly far, just about to plunge into the abyss, yet it was drawn by a gentle Vigorous Qi, falling into a slender hand.

The Scholar in green played casually with the leaf, sensing the yet undissipated Buddhist intent within it, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Ah... Prajna Palm.

His fingers relaxed slightly, he again lazily leaned back in the bamboo chair, letting the leaf drift down the cliff, falling into the stream at the mountain's foot, stirring up a gentle ripple.

Prajna Palm, one of the three major palm techniques among the Shaolin Seventy-Two Ultimate Skills, its profound subtlety, not like the Sumeru Mountain Palm that is exceptionally effective at range and can amass power in emptiness, Palm with Sumeru hidden within, nor as vigorous as the Great Vajra Palm, formidable and extreme, striking powerful blows through the air like Vajra itself.

But the premier Buddhist technique is neither the subtly profound and seemingly hard yet soft Sumeru Mountain Palm, nor the utmost yang and vigorous, thick and fierce Great Vajra Palm, but rather that ordinary and plain, like an old monk preaching, Prajna Palm.

Simply because its palm power strengthens with more practice, its moves become purer with more learning, an endless learning where utmost strength leads to ultimate emptiness, only then can one truly master it, but as for the pinnacle, since time immemorial, no master has ever dared to claim they have pushed this technique to its ultimate realm.

With Dharma being boundless, human wisdom varies from minimal to great Prajna and up to the eighth part Prajna, endless and boundless, explaining Buddhist principles through Martial Arts, Buddhism being boundless, so are the powers of the palm technique.

.....................

This day, practicing Prajna Palm, since Wang Anfeng already had the foundation in Shaolin Martial Arts and his fundamental Inner Strength was a precious secret of Shaolin Temple not easily passed on, he grasped it very quickly, learning five palms within four to five Hours.

His moves, now extremely refined, excelled in Vigorous Qi transformations, possessing very remarkable skills both in close-quarters combat and airborne palm power, far surpassing any previously learned Shaolin Changquan.

Afterward, Wang Anfeng took a short rest in Shaolin Temple for several Hours to recover his energy.

Wu Changqing knew he was practicing profound martial arts, so he used medicinal herbs that nourish qi and spirit to prepare many medicinal meals. His mastery in Inner Strength was already quite significant; however, he had not surpassed the Middle Third Rank of Longmen. In Taoist terms, that meant he was still in the phase of refining essence and transforming qi. His appetite had increased, so he ended up eating it all.

After eating his fill, Wang Anfeng looked at the stacks of dishes piled up on the table in front of him, noting how clean they were, without a single leftover. His expression was slightly bewildered.

His appetite… had increased again.

The youth, subconsciously, reached for the purse tied around his waist.

His gaze grew more solemn.

If it weren't for Shaolin Temple, even a well-stocked salary would probably not be enough to cover the meals.

Wang Anfeng… are you a pig?
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The next day, inside the Wind Character Tower.

Wang Anfeng flipped through the miscellaneous travel accounts exclusive to the Paoding lineage found in the Wind Character Tower, and discovered the explanation for the appetites of various martial artists. His eyes lit up, then his expression became slightly bewildered again. The book slipped from his fingers and landed on his lap, yet he seemed unaware, merely murmuring:

"My appetite… has already surpassed the normal Eighth Rank…"

"And, it will increase…"

Inside Shaolin Temple.

Wu Changqing set down the book titled "Real Records of the Thirteen Styles of the Golden Needle" on the table. Master Ci Lifted her gaze, noticing that it was wholly written with names of ingredients. Her expression grew puzzled, though before she could speak, the elder realized something was amiss. With a flick of the wrist and a quick motion fast as lightning, he grabbed the book, producing a sharp snap.

He raised his right hand, placed it near his mouth, and coughed quietly. His expression did not change. However, the monk sensed the elder clearly meant to imply something.

Act as if nothing happened…

Master Ci felt deeper confusion and wanted to ask, but Wu Changqing was experienced and swiftly spoke:

"Master Ci, and scholar… where have you two been to appreciate the scenery this time?"

"Was it the vast sea, the Great Desert, or perhaps some overseas islands?"

While speaking, he stroked his long beard, his gaze resting on the two with a smile. The scholar, draped in a blue robe, appeared handsome and aloof, though a bruise was visible on his right eye. At Wu's words, he coldly laughed, which seemed to pain him, distorting his smile.

The monk, trained in Hard Kung Fu, was dressed in ragged robes like a beggar, and his face bore traces of a sword scar, superficial yet amusing to look at.

PS: Today's first update