Transcript
A skilled craftsman. In the year 456 atop Wudan Mountain, a fierce storm struck. I was awoken by a crack of lightning, which tore a small storage room in half. The high winds screeched as they whistled throughout stone pillars.
was awake. The following morning at 5 a.m. I left for exercise as usual. The rain had cleared and the devastation was obvious.
The temple was damaged badly.
Master Po was unusually cheerful and came out to greet us as we stood in crane position.
Excuse my happy mood, he began, but I have no concern for the work you will have to do to repair this temple.
The rain did damage, however, I am very happy for all the water we now have to drink.
Students can give me work.
but they cannot give me water.
He was standing on the stairs above looking straight ahead into empty sky, as if waiting for a reply of some kind from someone.
The temple was many thousands of years old, and none of us were skilled craftsmen. So I began to speak.
But Master, we don't know how to put the temple back together.
His face remained exactly the same,
Yet somehow it went from happy to furious.
Without a single change in expression, he looked the same. But he was different. I could feel it. He slowly descended the stairs while looking straight ahead. Slowly, step by step, until eventually coming to a stop directly in front of me. He remained still for a few seconds before leaning forward and whispering in my ear.
Do you know my name? I was slightly confused and very scared. I tried to hide the tremble in my voice. Yes.
With his mouth still an inch from my ear, he continued. Do you know that I am a master of the seven Wudan styles?
Do you know that I kill at will?
I began to cry. I nodded my head. Yes, I replied. He then turned around and climbed the stairs back to his original position. He ordered us to fetch tools and begin to repair the damage.
Seventy-five years later, the temple was as if never damaged.
Every item repaired.
Every student now is skilled craftsman. Such is the way of Udan.