Chapter 117: Winter Development Plan

Huo Yuanzhen returned to Shaolin Temple and was warmly greeted, as if he were attending a grand funeral.

Numerous monks surrounded Huo Yuanzhen, their eyes filled with tears and snot. In the absence of the Abbot, the Shaolin monks had been in disarray. They couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and their kung fu practice had become lackluster. Even their chanting lacked energy. When the Abbot was present, they hadn't realized how much his presence had meant, but now, with him gone, it felt like the sky itself was collapsing.

It wasn't just the others; even the sweeper monk, Wuming, had missed a corner while sweeping the floor. Such a thing would have been unthinkable in the past, a sign of just how much Huo Yuanzhen's absence had affected Shaolin.

Seeing the monks gathered around him, all eager to speak but hesitant due to his authority, Huo Yuanzhen couldn't help but feel frustrated.

"I'm not dead yet. Is this necessary?" he muttered to himself.

"Alright, enough, disperse! Go back to whatever you were doing. I'll inspect your work later. Those who haven't done well will skip lunch!" he announced.

The monks cheered and ran off as though they had just received rewards rather than punishment.

Huo Yuanzhen told Huīwú and the others to leave, leaving only Yīchén, Yīkōng, and Yījìng by his side.

In the distance, Wuming, sweeping the last of the yellow leaves, was calm and composed, without a trace of the previous chaos. His demeanor was as if he had transformed into a completely different person in just a few days.

This was the final batch of yellow leaves. With November approaching, winter would soon arrive, bringing snow to be swept away.

Huo Yuanzhen didn't pay attention to Wuming. The monk's true nature was known only to Huo Yuanzhen, and no one else in Shaolin was aware of it. Huo Yuanzhen didn't want anyone to know either. Wuming's existence was to ensure Shaolin's safety.

He turned to Yīchén and the others. "The winter is coming soon. I believe the war won't happen this season, but next spring, there might be changes. Once the fighting starts, both the martial world and the imperial court won't be at peace. The power dynamics will shift, and Shaolin, situated in Henan, will be at the heart of it all. Have you considered where we stand when that time comes?"

Yīchén and the others exchanged glances. Since the Abbot's absence, none of them had really thought about this.

"You haven't thought about it, but others certainly haven't either. Born in adversity, perishing in comfort, we must not ignore the future. Therefore, I've decided to draft a winter development plan for Shaolin!" Huo Yuanzhen declared.

The others were confused at first. They understood the first part but were lost when he mentioned the "development plan."

Fortunately, Huo Yuanzhen quickly explained, "You may not understand what a development plan is. It's essentially a strategy, a plan for what Shaolin needs to do this winter. With the increasing competition in the martial world, you must have heard of the Demon Sect's raid on the Heavenly Dao Alliance, right?"

The monks nodded repeatedly. This event had shaken the martial world of Henan, and everyone knew about it.

"See? The Heavenly Dao Alliance is in a state of collapse. However, Hua Wuji has cultivated the Ice True Sutra, breaking through to the mid-stage of the Innate realm, and with his mastery of the Ice Palm, under his control, the alliance won't fall apart just yet, but that's only as long as no external forces intervene."

Taking a deep breath, Huo Yuanzhen continued, "The Demon Sect's raid failed, and their strategy shifted from offense to defense. Right now, there's a fragile balance between the Demon Sect and the Heavenly Dao Alliance in Henan. It's like a pot of oil that hasn't fully heated up yet. Any external force stepping in would be like adding a drop of water to the pot, causing it to explode. So, the balance we see now can't last. This winter isn't a season for war, but it is the season for martial forces to clash."

Yīchén pondered for a moment before asking, "Abbot, should we sit back and watch the battle from a distance?"

"No!" Huo Yuanzhen answered sharply. "Watching from a distance may seem like we could profit from the chaos, but in reality, it won't benefit us in strengthening our own forces. Moreover, if one side wins decisively, their momentum will be too high, and we'll have no chance to act. To win in times of chaos, we must participate!"

He waved his arm dramatically, emphasizing his point.

Yīkōng hesitated. "Abbot, you're right, but how do we participate? We have no idea what to do."

"I've already thought this through. We must involve everyone, mobilize the masses, and get all the monks of Shaolin thinking. We need ideas on how to improve Shaolin's strength this winter. Everyone must contribute. 'Just do your job' doesn't apply here at Shaolin!"

The monks began to sweat nervously. In these times, even being a monk wasn't easy.

Seeing their expressions, Huo Yuanzhen realized that his ideas might be too advanced for them. This era's monks were typically conservative and rigid in their thinking. Asking them to meditate and fast was one thing, but asking them to come up with strategies was something else entirely.

"Let's hold a meeting," he said.

Yīchén asked, "Abbot, what do you mean by 'hold a meeting'?"

"A meeting is just when everyone gathers to discuss and come up with a plan. Then we'll inform all the monks to focus their efforts on getting things done."

Yīchén seemed confused. "Isn't that like our morning lectures?"

"Sort of, but completely different in content. You don't understand how urgent the current situation is. I'm not hiding anything from you—external forces have already arrived in Henan, just beneath Shaoshi Mountain. It seems like they're just scouts. Two experts, and based on my judgment, their target must be Zhongyue Sect. If nothing changes, Zhongyue will undergo a major upheaval soon. The position of their leader, Master Aomiao, won't last much longer."

Without hesitation, Huo Yuanzhen shared the information he had heard from the Golden-Eyed Eagle, strengthening his own prediction. Once this was successful, his status would become even more revered.

The monks were still puzzled, so Huo Yuanzhen continued, "Think about it. If Zhongyue Sect collapses, it won't be good for us. As long as they exist, they maintain an uneasy peace with us. At least they haven't undermined our strength. But once they fall, and someone stronger takes over, who do you think will be the next victim?"

The monks suddenly understood. The Abbot truly had foresight and a grand vision.

But Yīkōng still felt uneasy. "Abbot, does this mean we need to help Zhongyue Sect? Thinking about those bull-headed monks makes me uncomfortable. Shaolin has suffered enough from their arrogance."

"Not necessarily help them. This is still under discussion. But Yījìng, you go make a banner," Huo Yuanzhen instructed.

"A banner? Throwing daggers? An umbrella?" Yījìng asked in confusion.

Huo Yuanzhen sighed in frustration. "A banner, a long piece of cloth, preferably red so it stands out, and in white characters, write 'Shaolin Temple First Full-Assembly Meeting.' Then hang it in a high place inside the Arhat Hall. We're setting up for a meeting."

Yījìng nodded and asked, "Do we have to use red cloth and white writing? We have white cloth, we could write with black ink. It would be just as noticeable."

"White cloth and black ink? What are you trying to do, set up a mourning hall? Hurry up!" Huo Yuanzhen scolded.

Yījìng, ashamed, scurried off.

"Aikōng, you prepare the incense and music. We'll begin by offering incense in the Arhat Hall and reciting a sutra before the meeting starts."

With Yījìng's example, Aikōng didn't dare to argue and quickly complied.

After organizing everything, Huo Yuanzhen turned to Yīchén. "Notify all the monks. Tomorrow, at sunrise, everyone must gather at the Arhat Hall, dressed in full white robes, with clean faces and polished heads. No latecomers, no feigned sickness. If a scholar monk is late, they will transcribe fifty sutras. If a martial monk is late, they will stand in horse stance for five hours."

"Understood, Abbot."

As Yīchén left, he paused and turned back. "Abbot, do we need to notify Elder Wuming?"

"Him? Don't bother. No need for you to inform him."

After Yīchén left, Huo Yuanzhen walked around the Ten Thousand Buddha Tower, deep in thought, before slowly approaching the still-sweeping Wuming.

"You heard everything, didn't you?"

Wuming remained silent.

"Anything you want to say?"

Wuming didn't respond. He had already made it clear to Huo Yuanzhen—he had come to Shaolin to live out his final days and wouldn't participate in anything else. Now, with the talk of meetings and schemes, he had no interest.

Huo Yuanzhen took a deep breath. "You may choose not to speak, but the developments this winter concern Shaolin's future. Shouldn't you return what you've kept from me?"

Wuming paused, his sweeping motion interrupted for a moment. He had been expecting this request from the beginning, so why make things complicated?

"It's on my bed in my room. Go get it yourself," Wuming responded calmly, then resumed sweeping the floor.

Huo Yuanzhen clapped his hands. At least Wuming had spoken, which wasn't easy to achieve.

A cold wind blew, and the last yellow leaf fell from the tree.

A thin layer of frost had formed on the ground.

Huo Yuanzhen took a deep breath of the chilly air. Winter had arrived, and this winter would be crucial for him to complete his system tasks. The Heavenly Dao Alliance, the Demon Sect, or any foreign invaders couldn't stop Shaolin's rise.