Chapter Forty-Three: In the Company of Beauty

He Zhi Xing asked, “You didn’t draw this, did you?”

The beautiful woman glanced at him. “What do you think?”

He grinned. “Heh, I’d guess you did. Otherwise, Master wouldn’t be studying the painting so intently.”

The elegant nun snorted. “At least you have some discernment.”

After finishing his inspection, the monk turned to the woman and said, “Hmm, Jiang Ni, your painting is quite good. You've made notable progress since last time. You’ve captured the overall composition well, and the layers are handled with care. Still, the work lacks refinement in some areas. Your brushwork connects in places—it wasn’t completed in a single stroke, was it?”

She nodded. “You’re right, Master. I didn’t finish it in one go—I made revisions along the way.”

The monk pointed out specific flaws. As his finger traced across the painting, he said, “Here... your linework could be more delicate. It should extend a bit further. And here, the rocks beside the waterfall could use more shadow…”

The beautiful woman listened attentively, nodding as Master Ada gave his pointers. He Zhi Xing watched alongside her, both absorbing every lesson.

“All right, that's enough for now. Come, I’ll teach you a game,” the monk said, rolling up the painting and leading the two out of the room.

They followed him through a corridor until they reached a building surrounded by a bamboo fence. There, they found many clay figures—each sculpted with expressive features and personalities. Piles of gray clay were heaped nearby—a special kind, perfect for quick sculpting, and when handled skillfully, could bring figures almost to life.

He Zhi Xing’s interest was piqued. “So, how does this work?”

The monk grabbed a handful of clay, kneading it rapidly, his hands moving in fluid, circular motions—a dance of strength and subtlety. As he worked, a faint heat rose from the clay. Without pause, he kneaded another lump, soon having two steaming balls of clay ready. Swiftly, he shaped heads, bodies, limbs, and the folds of clothing, his fingers working with astonishing agility. In less than half an hour, he had crafted several figures.

Without resting, the monk continued, forming three lifelike clay people in various poses—standing, walking, sitting—each brimming with vitality. Wisps of steam still rose from the freshly-molded figures, as if they were truly alive. He Zhi Xing marveled inwardly, thinking, “Isn’t this the highest art of sculpting, making clay figures so real they almost live?”

Now, it was their turn. The two of them gathered their strength, kneading the clay with all they had, preparing to sculpt their own figures. The woman’s energy was lighter than the man’s, so He Zhi Xing helped her through the initial steps. Both were soon sweating, completely absorbed in their task.

The monk stood by, offering guidance. Despite appearing simple, the work was laborious and demanding, honing not just skill but extraordinary adaptability and creativity.

When at last they finished, both were so tired their bodies felt like jelly, barely able to stand. The monk patted their shoulders in approval.

The next day, they visited Dajian Temple, where they saw the golden statues of Shakyamuni, Medicine Buddha, Amitabha, Guanyin, Ksitigarbha, the Sixth Patriarch, and many others. In the temple square, they joined the monks in physical exercise, witnessing the demonstration of the Iron Head and Bronze Arm techniques. At the monk’s urging, He Zhi Xing was even invited to strike him, discovering firsthand that blades and weapons could not harm him.

He Zhi Xing was amazed as never before. Such mastery transcended the ordinary, leaving him speechless. Clearly, his own path of cultivation would be a long one; perhaps everything the monk had done for him came from the deepest care.

Though he never called the monk “Master,” the bond between them surpassed that of teacher and disciple. Perhaps the monk had long since dismissed worldly conventions, living freely and naturally, true to himself.

The sun rises and sets—where, then, are the limits?

Only those who have mastered the essence of all things can truly guide the world, shattering the boundaries of self, and reaching the highest peaks of existence.