I. The Abbot's Solitude
The night was deep within the Shaolin Temple. The silence that usually brought peace now felt suffocating, laden with the weight of death and betrayal. The treatment halls were dimly lit by oil lamps, casting long shadows on the walls, as if the darkness of grief and suspicion danced alongside them.
Abbot Xuan Ye had returned to his private quarters, a quiet meditation room at the peak of the monastery. He sat on his meditation cushion, allowing his golden Inner Qi to flow gently, cleansing the remnants of exhaustion and the effects of the poison. Yet, the wound in his heart was far harder to heal. His decision to surrender Zhao Huo to Fa Xing felt like a thorn piercing every nerve.
He was a leader, a pillar of the Jianghu, but in this crisis, he was forced to sacrifice justice for political stability. Zen taught tranquility, but it offered no instruction on how to bear the betrayal of a trusted person, nor how to allow the innocent to be punished.
The sliding door of his room opened softly.
Monk Hui Jian, the stern Shaolin Head Monk and master swordsman, entered with a wooden tray. His face showed fatigue, but his sharp eyes remained vigilant. He placed the tray on a low table beside Xuan Ye.
"Abbot," Hui Jian greeted, his voice respectful but rigid. "You haven't eaten since the fight. I brought herbal soup and red bean porridge. I made it myself. Please, try some."
Xuan Ye nodded slowly in thanks. He picked up the bowl of porridge.
He tasted the soup brought by Hui Jian. It was bland, utterly ordinary. Although Hui Jian was a great swordsman, he clearly had no talent in the kitchen. Xuan Ye sighed, a bitter smile creeping onto his face.
"Ah," Xuan Ye said, setting the bowl down. "The taste... this is very ordinary, Hui Jian. You know, how much I miss Zhao Huo's cooking."
Hui Jian frowned slightly. "I apologize, Abbot. My culinary skills are indeed poor. But... why, at a time like this, are you still thinking about the chef who is accused of being a demon spy?"
Xuan Ye stared into the candlelight before him, his eyes radiating sorrow. "Zhao Huo. You and many others see him as a naive cook. You resent him because he is too close to me, and you view his work as a distraction from true discipline. But... do you know why I ordered Zhao Huo to work in the kitchen and taught him no martial arts beyond the most basic Arhat Fist?"
Hui Jian paused. "I simply thought... because his cooking is good? Ah, I admit, I didn't expect him to be able to make such exquisite vegetarian food, even rivaling the taste of meat dishes."
Xuan Ye smiled sadly. "That is true. His culinary skill is astonishing. But that is merely a consequence. There are two far deeper reasons, Hui Jian. Two secrets I have concealed from you and everyone else, to protect Shaolin... and to protect him."
II. Reason One: The Memory That Transcends Limits
Xuan Ye took a deep breath, allowing his Inner Qi to settle. He began to speak, his voice soft and heavy.
"The first reason: This child, Zhao Huo, possesses truly exceptional memory ability. An ability that transcends the limits of ordinary man."
Hui Jian looked at him skeptically. "Exceptional memory? Many monks have strong memories, Abbot. We memorize hundreds of Sutras."
"Not ordinary memory, Hui Jian," Xuan Ye countered, shaking his head. "I am talking about Absolute Memory—the ability to remember anything, every event, every detail, every word he reads in an instant, and recall it perfectly, without ever forgetting. Do you remember when he was a child, eight years old?"
Hui Jian tried to recall. "Ah, yes. When he was disciplined for being caught sneaking into the Sutra Library..."
"He did not sneak," Xuan Ye interrupted. "He merely entered briefly. And in that short time, just by looking, he effortlessly memorized the entire complex Vajrayana Sutra and the Bodhidharma Zen Texts. He memorized thousands of lines, understood their essence, in just a few hours."
Hui Jian gasped softly. That was indeed strange.
"I realized that precisely with this frightening memory ability, he was capable of concocting and creating delicious cuisine," Xuan Ye continued. "He remembers every interaction of ingredients, every temperature, every aroma, every balance of Yin and Yang. That is why his cooking is always perfect—he doesn't cook, he executes memory."
"Because of this formidable memory and his ability to read situations, I gave him the secret logistics spy assignment," Xuan Ye explained. "He can see without seeing, hear without hearing. He is the spy who would least be suspected because he is merely a chef."
Hui Jian now understood the rationale behind Zhao Huo's strange task. But his astonishment had not subsided. "Then, what is the problem, Abbot? If he possesses perfect memory, is that not the greatest gift to Shaolin? He could memorize all our techniques!"
Xuan Ye smiled sadly, his gaze conveying an unspoken burden. "That, Hui Jian, is precisely the problem. It leads us to the second reason."
III. Reason Two: The Heavenly Gifted Body (Martial Heavenly Body)
"The second reason," Xuan Ye said, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "This child, Zhao Huo, possesses a rare bone structure and muscle flexibility that is unlike that of ordinary humans. He... he has a Heavenly Gifted Body for mastering martial arts."
Hui Jian fell silent. The stillness in the room grew heavy. Hui Jian, as a master swordsman, understood the implication of that statement.
"I... I do not understand, Abbot," Hui Jian said, trying to mask his shock.
"Alas, Hui Jian," Xuan Ye sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Did you ever truly observe Zhao Huo when he was learning the most basic Arhat Fist, all those years ago?"
"He was quite talented at learning, I recall that," Hui Jian answered, trying to remember. "But he never continued his training."
"You did not observe him correctly, because you were too focused on the speed and beauty of the forms," Xuan Ye corrected softly. "Martial arts require long cultivation to be integrated into the body. It is not just about strength; it is about Qi, muscle, and physical memory merging. It requires continuous training for the body to apply martial arts perfectly."
Xuan Ye opened his eyes, looking at Hui Jian with deep intensity. "Even for a talented person, it takes at least three to five years to fully master a form and perfectly apply it to their body. Even you, Hui Jian, took years to reach your current stage of sword Inner Qi."
"But this child, Zhao Huo," Xuan Ye continued, his voice bordering on fear. "Only studied the Arhat Fist for one day, yet his physical capability was already like he had been practicing it for five years. His movements were precise, his internal Qi flowed without obstruction, as if his body was specially designed for that martial art."
Hui Jian gasped. He clenched his fists beneath the table. This was truly... impossible.
"Impossible," Hui Jian whispered, his throat tight. "Is that not... the Martial Heavenly Body? The rare physique said to appear only once every five hundred years?"
IV. The Abbot's Fear: Why Zhao Huo Was Confined
Xuan Ye nodded slowly. "I fear it is true. Perfect body and perfect memory coming together. A terrifying gift, Hui Jian."
"Then if he is so gifted, what is the problem, Abbot?" Hui Jian asked, his confusion now replaced by intense enthusiasm. "Is that not better? Should Zhao Huo not have been taught martial arts earnestly? He would become the generation that advances Shaolin, perhaps even surpassing our ancestors!"
Xuan Ye sighed deeply, his gaze shifting back to the cold bowl of porridge.
"Zhao Huo's talent is too frightening, Hui Jian. Try to imagine," Xuan Ye urged, his tone pressing. "What happens if someone with perfect memory can effortlessly recall entire martial arts manuals, or forms demonstrated in the arena—like the Dragon Palm you saw—and then easily master and apply that form with his Heavenly Gifted Body? He would become a martial monster in the blink of an eye."
Hui Jian shuddered, imagining the implications. The ability to absorb and mimic techniques limitlessly, without the long period of cultivation. A power almost god-like.
"Talent that is too monstrous often leads to arrogance and ruin," Xuan Ye asserted, his eyes showing the worry he had carried for years. "He would forget the meaning of patience, forget the meaning of struggle. He would become arrogant, overbearing, and his power would be a double-edged sword that could destroy himself and Shaolin."
"That is why," Xuan Ye concluded, "I only assigned him to the kitchen. I instructed him to study Bodhidharma Zen through cooking—through patience, controlling Qi in small matters, and absolute focus on humility. I hoped that before he discovered his true power, his heart would first be purified."
V. The Turning Point: Fa Xing the Traitor
Hui Jian now stood silent, overwhelmed by horror and a profound respect for the Abbot's wisdom. He finally understood why Zhao Huo had been treated so uniquely.
"But Abbot," Hui Jian said, his voice raspy. "Zhao Huo is now accused of being a Demonic Cult spy. A child with such rare talent... he could not possibly betray us."
"I know, Hui Jian," Xuan Ye answered firmly. "It is clearly a slander, and someone has framed him. I know this child well from his youth. There is no malice in his heart."
Xuan Ye leaned forward, his eyes now shining with the fire of resolve, like his golden Inner Qi.
"Hui Jian, I need you to do something very important. Something far more critical than any duel in the arena."
"Command me, Abbot," Hui Jian said, now truly ready to obey, his long-held jealousy replaced by respect.
"I want you to observe Fa Xing's movements," Xuan Ye commanded. "He is aggressively insistent on blaming Zhao Huo. He is leading the interrogation of Zhao Huo and the captured spies. Fa Xing was the one who 'found' the Jade Ruyi in the kitchen. Fa Xing was the one who gave me the interrogation idea. All the evidence incriminating Zhao Huo stems from him."
"Observe his movements, Hui Jian. His actions might lead us to a clue about the true mastermind. I cannot move freely. I must maintain the Alliance's stability and recover from the poison. I must show the world that I am 'punishing' Zhao Huo, but I must not allow him to die. You are the only one I can trust for this secret investigation."
"Abbot," Hui Jian said, bowing deeply. "I understand. I will carry out this duty. I will bring the truth back to Shaolin."
With renewed determination, and a deeper understanding of the lurking danger and the rare talent that must be protected, Monk Hui Jian left the Abbot's room.
Xuan Ye was left alone. He looked at the cold bowl of porridge and smiled bitterly again. He had confined the Dragon in the kitchen for years for the safety of the Jianghu, but now, that Dragon must be freed from the fiery cage of slander to save everyone. The fate of Zhao Huo, the chef, was now intertwined with the destiny of the Murim Alliance.