Chapter Eight: Flights of Fancy

At this moment, Monk Yuantong was also intently studying the formation methods of the Eighteen Arhats. He was the most promising young monk of the current generation at Jinshan Temple, about the same age as Xiao Yan, yet already a master of the twelfth level of inner strength. He too hoped to pass through the Eighteen Arhats Formation, but unlike Xiao Yan, whose motivation was the brothel down the mountain, Yuantong sought glory and reputation. For this, he regarded Xiao Yan with undisguised disdain.

Suddenly, a snoring sound erupted, growing from soft to deafening, shaking the very rafters.

Irritated, Yuantong covered his ears, but the noise still reached him and eroded his patience. Unable to endure it any longer, he turned and saw Xiao Yan, drooling in his sleep.

Damn it, it was this guy!

Yuantong’s tolerance snapped. He walked over quietly, chanting, “Amitabha…”

As he reached Xiao Yan’s side, the snoring stopped abruptly.

Yuantong frowned, withdrawing his outstretched hand. There was no explicit rule against sleeping in the inner chamber of the Sutra Library; so long as one was quiet, there was no reason to reprimand Xiao Yan. Thus, he returned to his seat.

No sooner had he sat down than the snoring began anew, louder than before.

Yuantong’s brow furrowed again as he rose, approached, and reached out his hand—once more, silence fell upon the library.

Annoyed, Yuantong repeated this four or five times before he could no longer contain himself. “Damn it, he’s doing it on purpose…”

Ever since Xiao Yan swaggered into the inner chamber, an old man’s face had darkened. This was Elder Huiming, the guardian of the Sutra Library. He was well aware of Xiao Yan’s notorious reputation and had long wanted to teach him a lesson. Though Elder Huiming was well past sixty, his martial skills were as sharp as ever—rumor had it even the abbot was no match for him. Learned in both scripture and martial arts, he was deeply respected by the disciples of Jinshan Temple.

Initially, he’d hoped Xiao Yan had turned over a new leaf and come to read. Yet seeing him only come to sleep was intolerable.

With a cold snort, Elder Huiming strode over. “Xiao Yan! Wake up!”

Yuantong watched the spectacle with schadenfreude, a cold smile playing at his lips. In his eyes, Xiao Yan was finished.

“Is it morning already? Oh… time to get up…” Xiao Yan wiped away his drool, looked around, and grumbled, “Don’t bother me, let me sleep a bit longer…” With that, he lay back down and drifted off.

Bang! Elder Huiming slammed the table so hard his bald head seemed to smoke. “Get up! The Sutra Library is for study, not for your naps! If you want to sleep, get out!”

“Oh…” Startled, Xiao Yan replied sheepishly and began to walk out, seemingly intent on finding another place to sleep.

Yuantong watched, barely able to contain his laughter. Weaklings like him were truly hopeless.

“You! Incorrigible child…” Elder Huiming pointed at Xiao Yan and scolded, “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“To sleep, obviously…” Xiao Yan answered, bewildered. Was this old man addled? Hadn’t he just told him to go sleep elsewhere? Now he wanted to know where he was headed?

“Hmph, come back!” Elder Huiming stamped his foot in frustration, pointing at the stack of books on the table. “You’re not leaving until you finish reading all these!”

Xiao Yan frowned, glancing at the thick pile of books on the Eighteen Arhats Formation. “But I’ve already finished them.”

Anyone would need several days to read through that stack, yet they had just watched Xiao Yan flip through it in less than half an hour. This was hardly proper reading—at best, a cursory glance. Clearly, today he had to be disciplined on behalf of Jinshan Temple.

Yuantong sneered as well. He himself had spent three days reading those same books and still hadn’t understood everything. And now Xiao Yan claimed to have finished in half an hour? Such a blatant lie.

“Hmph… Fine, if you’ve finished, tell me: what sort of formation is the Eighteen Arhats Array?” Elder Huiming stroked his beard as he spoke. He was well aware of the brilliance of the formation, having studied it many times himself and gained some insight into breaking it.

Yuantong watched Xiao Yan with interest, a mocking smile on his lips. Both of them expected Xiao Yan to be left speechless, but then Xiao Yan nodded earnestly. “The Eighteen Arhats Formation was created by the first abbot and improved over generations. Each of the eighteen Arhats has unique strengths and masters a different martial art. Their positions interlock and compensate for one another, forming a flawless array…”

He had summarized the formation’s intricacies without missing a single detail.

Could he really have read it all? In just half an hour? That seemed…

Both men were momentarily stunned, lost for words.

“In that case… what strategy would you use to overcome the Eighteen Arhats Formation, to defeat the strong while being weak? To break the formation perfectly?” Elder Huiming pressed on.

“Elder, that’s not right! In this world, there’s no such thing as the weak defeating the strong—only the strong defeating the weak,” Xiao Yan replied with certainty.

“Hmph, what nonsense! Since ancient times, books of war and strategy have recorded ways for the weak to overcome the strong. Yet you spout such arrogance—do you mean to insult the wisdom of our forebears?” Yuantong interjected coldly.

Elder Huiming’s expression darkened as well, clearly agreeing with Yuantong, but he remained silent, waiting for Xiao Yan to continue.

“I know nothing of military strategy, but your so-called method of defeating the strong with the weak is really just a matter of shifting the balance of power. As I see it, the way to break through is to divide the Eighteen Arhats, face them one-on-one, and as long as I am stronger than each of them individually, I can break the formation. Isn’t that just the strong triumphing over the weak?” Xiao Yan explained earnestly.

“Heh… Do you think the Eighteen Arhats are idiots? That they’ll take you on one at a time? Then what would be the point of a formation? Besides, each Arhat has mastered a different martial art—how could you possibly be stronger than all of them? With your meager third-level inner strength, even after another decade of training, you might not surpass any one of them,” Yuantong scoffed.

“Indeed,” Elder Huiming agreed, growing ever more fond of Yuantong—gifted and diligent as he was.

Xiao Yan continued, “How could I be stronger than all of them? But if I, too, mastered all eighteen martial arts, and carried eighteen weapons to counter each one, then, for example, if I faced the Arhat skilled in Iron Head Technique, whose weakness is his lower body, I could use a spear technique targeting that weakness…”

“Ridiculous! One person learning eighteen martial arts? Do you think you’re a god? And you’d bring eighteen weapons to the challenge too?” Yuantong immediately interrupted, his tone icy.

“It’s almost impossible…” Elder Huiming nodded, then turned to ask, “Yuantong, how would you break the formation?”