“小师弟, are you really content to remain a menial monk, unable to learn the Shaolin secrets?” In the silence, Eric Bennett suddenly asked in a low voice.

Ethan asked in confusion, “Senior brother, what does ‘content’ mean?”

“It means willing, happy, satisfied, not wanting more.” Eric Bennett once again felt it was a bit difficult to communicate with the child Ethan.

Ethan let out an “oh”: “As long as I can eat, sleep, work, get full, and listen to Uncle Xuanxin tell stories, I’m very content. It’s much better than before.”

Then he added, “If I could learn the ‘Tathagata Divine Palm,’ that would be even better.”

Pfft, Eric Bennett almost spat out his saliva. He really didn’t know whether Ethan was content or not.

Eric Bennett paused for a moment, just about to speak, when he suddenly noticed Ethan’s breathing becoming light—he had already fallen asleep.

The entire meditation room fell completely silent, with only a few soft breaths rising and falling, making the night seem even deeper and more tranquil.

Outside the window, the bright moon hung high, casting a layer of silvery white in front of the shared bedding, like cold frost.

Looking at this peaceful and serene scene, all sorts of memories from the past surged up uncontrollably in Eric Bennett’s heart—longing, sorrow, hesitation, confusion, self-pity, all kinds of emotions came flooding in.

There was no time to think about so much during the day, so this quiet night felt especially “soul-stealing.”

That past he couldn’t let go of, that heart-wrenching “farewell forever,” made it impossible for Eric Bennett to fall asleep for a long time.

Only at this very moment, in this very scene, did he truly understand the real meaning of that poem by the Hermit of the Green Lotus.

“Before my bed, the bright moonlight,

I suspect it is frost on the ground.

I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon,

And lower it to think of my hometown.”

Gazing at the cold moon outside the window, Eric Bennett was lost in thought for a while.

Chapter Four: A Hundred Days to Build the Foundation

A clear little stream flowed out from the forest, circled once in front of Eric Bennett, and then ran down toward the foot of the mountain.

Nearby, green trees provided shade, thin mist drifted among the woods, and the air was extremely fresh, making Eric Bennett feel relaxed in both body and mind.

It was still before dawn when the morning bell rang, waking Eric Bennett. After learning a short Sanskrit chant during morning class, he and Ethan were assigned by Xuanxin to fetch water here. Around them were David, Henry, and others, as well as monks from the Martial Monk Institute who were also training by carrying water.

Looking at the stream, Eric Bennett inadvertently caught a faint glimpse of his current appearance in the slowly flowing water.

He saw a child with eyes like ink dots, brows like distant mountains, and features as if carved from jade—about twelve or thirteen years old, just a bit older than Ethan.

“Not bad looking at all. I must have been pampered before.” Eric Bennett praised himself, but then sighed—what use is that for a monk? I must return to secular life!

He sank the wooden buckets to the bottom of the stream, planning to test his own strength, while reminding Ethan beside him, “Little junior brother, just carry half a bucket, that’s enough. Don’t overdo it.”

“Okay.” Ethan licked his lips as he watched the fish swimming in the stream.

Just as Eric Bennett was about to lift the buckets, he suddenly felt someone watching him. He turned his head and followed the gaze, just in time to see a group of somewhat familiar martial monks. They were the young novices who had been tonsured together with him by Xuan Ku. Among them, Eric Bennett could only remember a few names, and the one now looking at him was Edward.

Edward’s eyebrows were rather messy, his cheeks long and thin. When he saw Eric Bennett looking back, he lifted his head slightly, seeming a bit arrogant and proud.

The other young novices around him, seeing this, all changed from bitter faces to beaming smiles, as if the hardships of life in the Martial Monk Institute vanished upon seeing a “companion” doing even worse than themselves.

Yes, we entered the Martial Monk Institute, while Matthew and Ethan could only be menial monks. That’s something to be happy and proud about.

Edward opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but after glancing at the disciplinary monk beside him, he closed his mouth, lifted his buckets from the stream—two full buckets.

Eric Bennett curled his lips, deciding not to stoop to the level of children. One day, he would enter the Martial Monk Institute and learn the Shaolin secrets!

He cleared his mind of distractions and lifted the two buckets with force.

As soon as the buckets left the water, Eric Bennett was startled—why were they so light?

He felt he hadn’t used much strength, yet the buckets were already up.

“Are they heavy?” Eric Bennett asked Ethan in confusion.

Ethan walked over honestly, tried to lift the two full buckets in front of Eric Bennett, his veins bulging and face contorted, then nodded, “Heavy.”

“So it’s not the water?” Eric Bennett took a deep breath and thought to himself, “Could this body be naturally strong? Judging by the skin, clothes, accessories, and what that horse-faced uncle said about a marquis, this body must be from a noble family. Maybe he practiced martial arts before and built a good foundation, so he’s much stronger than normal kids.”

Whatever the reason, Eric Bennett was no longer afraid of carrying water. He bent down, shouldered the two buckets, and followed the martial monk team up the stone steps.

The team quickly stretched out and separated. The martial monks, trained for years, carried iron buckets and water with ease, soon disappearing into the forest.

To avoid drawing attention, Eric Bennett and Ethan and a few other menial monks lagged behind, while the new young novices like Edward from the Martial Monk Institute, having only entered the temple a day ago and not yet improved, were in the same situation as them.