Chapter One: The Peculiar Monk

Volume One - Synopsis

For most people, time may be a straight line, but for Shi Jun, who possesses a mysterious past life, it is nothing more than an endlessly repeating circle…

On his eighteenth birthday, sophomore Shi Jun, through a series of accidental coincidences, unexpectedly encountered a wandering spirit and two self-proclaimed emissaries from the Underworld. From that moment, a string of bizarre events unfolded one after another. Caught in circumstances beyond his control, Shi Jun found himself inexplicably appointed as a "Soul Catcher" of the Underworld, tasked with capturing wayward spirits lingering in the mortal realm—thus beginning an extraordinary journey of adventure.

Propelled by the invisible hand of fate, his once peaceful life came to an abrupt end…

Chapter One – The Peculiar Monk

Sunday, atop Mount Shura, at the Temple of Buddha's Light.

This was an ancient monastery with several centuries of history. It was rumored to have been the place of meditation and passing for many accomplished monks, and for reasons unknown, was famed for its miraculous efficacy, said to grant every wish. As a result, its incense burned ceaselessly, the temple had been lavishly restored, and, nestled into the side of Mount Shura with its breathtaking scenery, it had become a must-see attraction for local visitors.

Shi Jun had a hard time slipping away from the throngs of devotees and tourists crowding the temple. He wandered aimlessly, darting about like a headless fly, until he accidentally stumbled through a small moon gate and into a quiet, elegant courtyard. Glancing around and seeing no one, he finally breathed a sigh of relief, slumped onto a stone bench beneath a tree, and sat there in a daze.

He felt like a fool today—chased in circles by his own devices, unable even to voice his grievances, for the one who had tricked him was none other than himself.

To put it plainly, it was his own sense of loyalty that had led him astray; against his better judgment, he had agreed to accompany Hu Hai on his so-called "wooing mission." But that Hu Hai—if he wanted to pursue a girl, so be it—why drag along a whole entourage at the girl's request? That Chen Ya had no sincerity at all. Who, on a genuine date, would want a flock of busybodies tagging along? Clearly, she was just playing games! Yet Hu Hai was his best buddy. Usually so bold and boisterous, this time he had pleaded with a sheepish grin until Shi Jun couldn’t say no…

Sure enough, things went exactly as Shi Jun had predicted. The belle of the class, Chen Ya, spent the entire time chattering with her circle of girls, completely ignoring Hu Hai. Yet Hu Hai served her with utter devotion, never complaining—a once unyielding man melted into submission. Disgusting!

Watching coldly from the sidelines, Shi Jun felt stifled and had already considered making his escape. But just as he tried to quietly tell Hu Hai he intended to leave during their visit to the main hall, the dainty Chen Ya dragged Hu Hai away to make offerings. With a coquettish call, she had Hu Hai abandoning all vestiges of manly dignity, bowing and scraping before the very statues he used to scoff at. For a grown man to act so subservient—how shameful!

Enough was enough. Shi Jun could bear it no longer. Without so much as a farewell, he slipped away while no one was looking.

*

Just as he emerged from the main hall, congratulating himself on his escape, he was met head-on by a crowd of women, each clutching bundles of red or yellow incense, filling the air with pungent smoke and noisy chatter. The fumes assailed him, provoking a fit of sneezes and nearly triggering his rhinitis on the spot. Was this misery really necessary?

Women! Shi Jun wiped the sweat from his brow, grumbling under his breath.

He didn't really blame Hu Hai, but for some reason, he instinctively disliked Chen Ya—beautiful, yes, but utterly soulless. She always pouted, feigning aloofness like some sickly beauty, never smiling, acting all prim and proper, yet spent no more time studying than anyone else. Instead, she mingled with her admirers, playing the coquette just enough to keep them chasing after her.

But everyone has their own tastes. It was said plenty of boys pursued her, and Hu Hai was just another hopeless romantic among them…

If only he had been firm and refused Hu Hai’s cajoling—he could have spent the day idling in an internet café, free and unburdened. That would have been far better than wandering around in boredom like a lost fly.

His thoughts drifted as his feet carried him onward, until he found himself before a secluded, tranquil courtyard.

Several rows of simple houses stood with doors and windows slightly ajar. The courtyard was paved with neat blue stone tiles, shaded by tall locust trees whose fragrant blossoms filled the air, bringing a sense of serenity to the heart.

Compared to the noisy crowds outside, this place was a different world.

“Hmph, now this feels like a proper temple. That ruckus outside—what a joke! Isn't a temple supposed to be a place of quiet cultivation? Yet every temple is bustling these days—I really wonder what sort of monks they are!” Shi Jun muttered, rubbing his nose in annoyance.

*

“Amitabha, peace be with you, benefactor!”

Suddenly, a booming voice sounded behind him, startling Shi Jun out of his wits—had his complaints about the temple been overheard? Or had he accidentally wandered into some forbidden area?

He turned quickly, forcing a cheerful smile. “Greetings, Master! Greetings!”

But at the sight of the monk, Shi Jun was taken aback—this was no ascetic hermit but more a hero of the greenwood. The image of a silver-browed, venerable monk he’d pictured vanished instantly.

In front of him stood a burly monk, tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp brows slanting towards his temples and piercing eyes. Put him in armor, and he’d be a general who could take a head amidst ten thousand soldiers; dress him in a tunic, and he’d be a match for the legendary Lu Zhishen. Yet unlike Lu, who was famed for his brute strength, this monk’s eyes shone with cunning intelligence.

“Sorry, I wandered in by accident,” Shi Jun said, testing the waters. “Is this, uh, a restricted area or something?”

The monk’s eyes flashed with a hint of excitement, but he quickly composed himself, joining his palms. “The temple may be a place apart from the world, but it is open and bright—there are no forbidden corners here.”

How amusing! Shi Jun couldn’t help but think—if there are no forbidden areas, why are there “No Admittance” signs everywhere? Yet the monk seemed to be speaking in riddles. This man looked to be in his early thirties, yet spoke with the affectation of a much older man, half classical, half colloquial. Had he been cloistered too long, losing touch with the world?

Finding it rather funny, Shi Jun decided to play along, mimicking the monk’s tone, “I see. Might I know your dharma name, Master?”

“My surname is Shi, dharma name Chanzhen,” the monk replied, slowly pacing to the stone bench under the locust tree. He gestured for Shi Jun to sit as well.

*

Shi Jun had planned to exchange only a few words before leaving. Since childhood, he’d never been reverent toward spirits or gods—not out of boldness, but simple disbelief. This was the first time he had spoken with a monk. Though a little curious, he wasn’t interested enough to linger for a long conversation. Yet this monk seemed intent on chatting, and Shi Jun hesitated.

Perhaps the monk was simply bored and wanted to talk? Though improbable, it was only polite to hear him out. After some courtesy, Shi Jun sat down as well.

Soon, the soft patter of footsteps sounded behind them. A handsome young acolyte entered through the moon gate, set two cups of tea before them, and left without a word.

It felt like a scene from a play—the sense of absurdity returned. Clearly, this monk held some status in the temple, and the acolyte’s almost reverent service suggested that their meeting was no mere coincidence. How strange!

*

Shi Jun’s mind was a jumble, but he soon let it go. After all, he had nothing to ask and nothing to fear. Perhaps it was all just chance, and if not, so what?

From the moment the monk had invited him to sit, through to the acolyte’s silent tea service, Shi Jun kept a polite smile, betraying no emotion. Yet his youth gave him away; his hesitation, confusion, and eventual composure all flashed across his eyes, and Chanzhen took it all in with a serene smile.

“Um… Master Chanzhen,” Shi Jun scratched his head, “you said your surname was… Shi? Do monks have surnames?”

Chanzhen was momentarily taken aback, then explained, “Ah, you may not know—‘Shi’ is taken from Shakyamuni. All monks adopt it as their surname. And how should I address you?”

“Me?” Shi Jun hesitated, unsure whether to give his real name or make one up, but decided there was no need for deceit. “I’m Shi Jun.”

Why bother lying? They were strangers, unlikely to meet again.

*

“Shi Jun,” the monk mused. “A dignified name. Your appearance is unusual—you seem a man of destiny. I was delighted upon meeting you, and so took the liberty of asking you to stay for a chat. I hope you don’t mind.”

“A man of destiny?” What, were they short on manpower and recruiting? That couldn’t be it. The monk’s eyes were sharp, his voice hearty, but despite this being their first meeting, he had stared at Shi Jun with an almost excessive warmth. Could it be…?

Shi Jun grew uneasy, and, thinking of Hu Hai, hardly listened to the monk’s words, instead searching for an excuse to slip away.

What excuse should he use? Lost in thought, he reached for the teacup on the table.

As he raised it to his lips, he paused—what if it was drugged? Then he reconsidered—why would anyone harm him for no reason? Perhaps he was being paranoid.

Just then, he glanced up, catching Chanzhen’s smiling gaze. His face flushed with embarrassment at his own suspicious thoughts, and he hurriedly drank the tea, only to choke and cough violently.

*

Shi Jun was thoroughly annoyed with himself. He was no paragon of virtue, but when had he ever been so flustered? What made it worse was the monk’s serene composure, as if he had noticed nothing, though Shi Jun’s every thought seemed laid bare before him.

Had he read too many martial arts novels, imagining every monk and priest to be an otherworldly sage? Lost in thought, he stood up. “Master Chanzhen, my friend is still waiting for me. I’d best be going... It was a pleasure to meet you.” He tossed out a diplomatic farewell.

Chanzhen also rose and bowed, “Then I won’t keep you. But before you go, allow me to offer one piece of advice.”

“So it’s not that simple,” Shi Jun thought. “He’s not going to claim I have exceptional bones and should become a monk, is he…”

“Remember: this year will be a turning point in your life. Trouble comes from standing out—should you encounter anything unusual, think thrice before you act. Do not act rashly.” Chanzhen’s tone was earnest, as if holding something back.

“Oh? Oh! How profound!” Shi Jun replied, none the wiser, but didn’t press for details. He nodded and turned to leave.

At the threshold of the moon gate, Shi Jun couldn’t resist looking back.

Chanzhen still stood where he was, eyes closed, palms together. His tall figure stood like a mountain; his wide monk’s robe billowed without wind, exuding an inexpressible aura of majesty. Shi Jun couldn’t help but admire him: “What a monk!” and felt a pang of guilt for his earlier petty suspicions.

*

Shi Jun wandered the temple grounds but saw no sign of Hu Hai or the others. The crowds had thinned, and the place was nearly deserted. Feeling bored, he left the mountain and took a bus home.

By the time he arrived, it was already noon. His mother was still away on a business trip, so he took a long shower, skipped lunch, and fell into a deep sleep.