Minutes later we arrived at a big boulder, shaped, surprisingly, like a sitting Buddha.

Floating Cloud said, “When my master escaped to this mountain, the first thing he saw was this boulder. He knew right away that here was where his karma would unfurl, and that of his disciples.” The monk pointed to the view below. “Now they’re over there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Master passed away a few years ago at the age of one hundred and three, outliving one of his two disciples. Their ashes were scattered in the wind.”

Gone with the Wind. Literally. The image was both so poetic and sad. But I kept this thought to myself.

“Then where is the other disciple?”

“Right in front of your eyes.”

“Oh….”

We fell silent, and Floating Cloud led us to circumambulate the Buddha-like boulder three times. After that, he said it was time for a break.

I went straight back to my room to rest—and plot the seduction of the monk. My heart pounded. Whether fortunately or not, I was finding myself more and more attracted to this floating cloud.


Half an hour later I went back to the main room for tea and a snack. After that, I tried my best to keep Floating Cloud’s attention by asking questions about Buddhism and his life on the mountain. During our conversations, I kept my eyes staring deeply into his. When I was wondering if he’d gotten my message, his hand fleetingly brushed mine as he picked up the teapot.

Before I could think of the best way to respond, Floating Cloud spoke. “Let’s move to the courtyard. Pure Wisdom will perform his impossible stunts for you.”

In the late afternoon, the courtyard wore a different face—sleepy and eerily quiet. Below, I could see the purplish haze, and above, the all-knowing, pale gray sky. Pure Wisdom had changed from his loose gray Buddhist robe into a yellow, body-hugging kung fu outfit.

Expression serious and hands balled into fists, he bowed first to his master, then me. “Master and honorable rare guest, now your humble servant is going to demonstrate his inadequate skill.”

I smiled, feeling pleased by this young man’s pretended humble way of saying, “Watch out, now I’m going to show off my ultimate kung fu!”

And then, the young monk was defying gravity by walking perpendicularly up the temple wall! Before I had a chance to applaud his impossible stunt, Pure Wisdom was back on solid ground. But a moment later he had jumped high up onto a tree and was flying from branch to branch. In a few seconds, he disappeared from sight, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and crackling branches.

When I was about to ask Floating Cloud where his disciple had gone, the young monk was already standing in front of us, smiling proudly.

“I can’t believe it! Pure Wisdom, how did you do it? Is it an illusion?”

Now it was his master’s turn to smile proudly. “Buddhism tells us life is illusion, but there is no illusion in real kung fu, only daily, bitter practice. I’ve been teaching him since he was three. Not many people can stand my grueling, inhuman training.”

Inhuman?

Face flushed a glowing pink, the young monk said demurely, “Miss Chen, my kung fu is nothing in comparison to my master’s.”

I turned to Floating Cloud. “Would the master also kindly reveal his consummate skill from his years of bitterest practice?”

“That will not be necessary.” He shook his head, bright and round like a bronze mirror.

“But…”

He cut me off. “All right, let’s all retire early today. Pure Wisdom will go get food and some medicine for you. He’ll leave in a few minutes and won’t be back till tomorrow.”

“Please don’t inconvenience yourself. I’m not sick, just tired.”

“He doesn’t mind. I know he just can’t wait to get away from the temple, especially me, if only for a few hours.”

We all laughed.

Floating Cloud spoke again. “Miss Chen, supper has already been put outside your room. Please eat on your own. We monks have to follow the religious rule of abstinence from food after noon.”

Walking away, I couldn’t believe my good luck that Pure Wisdom was leaving me alone with his master. What perfect timing for me to seduce him. Then a thought hit me. What if Floating Cloud was sending his disciple away so he could seduce me?

Outside my room, I saw a tray with two buns, a bowl of rice soup, a thermos of tea, and a pair of chopsticks, all neatly arranged. After I ate, I washed my face, set my alarm to wake me up in forty-five minutes, then went to bed for a quick nap.

When the alarm woke me, I let down my long hair and meticulously combed my three-thousand-threads-of-trouble. Then I put on makeup and changed into a dress—nothing fancy, but shapely and leg-revealing.

Of course there was no mirror in this temple for bald-headed monks. But I had a small one in my backpack, so I used it to carefully inspect my face.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?

There was no mirror on the wall, and I had no competition as to who was the fairest in the temple hall. I felt happy at what looked back at me.

Then I sighed, already feeling the sexual tension in the air.

I walked all over the small temple, but Floating Cloud was nowhere to be seen. Another fear seized me. Could the two monks have gone together, leaving me all by myself in this isolated temple?

I headed for the Buddha-shaped boulder, planning to meditate to settle my mind. As taught by Floating Cloud, I walked around the boulder three times with my hands in the form of a lotus bud. When finished, I strolled around to see if I could find Floating Cloud. But only the faint sounds of rustling leaves, buzzing insects, and chirping birds reached my ears.

After walking for another few minutes, I heard an unfamiliar sound. I could not tell if it was the heavy breathing of a human, or something inhuman. Perhaps I could put my yin eye to use in finding the creature emitting the sound. Heart pounding, I hurried about trying to trace its source. While I continued walking, the sky was getting dark quickly, and I feared I had lost my way. Then the sound came again from close by, and I recognized that it was human.

It was a man’s heavy breathing and sighing. I moved around to trace the sound and noticed that it came from behind a boulder. It was Floating Cloud! What was he doing here in the dark all by himself? Executing his bitter practice under the full moon? When I stepped closer and peeked over the boulder, I saw the silhouette of his broad back crisply outlined by the dim mountain view below. To my puzzlement, his body seemed to be jerking violently. Was he injured? A few seconds later when I realized what was going on, my hand involuntarily slapped over my mouth and my feet fell back a few steps.

Floating Cloud was masturbating, right here on the temple grounds!

Unexpectedly, a deep sympathy crawled up inside me as a pool of heat rose between my legs. I took a few deep breaths. Then, feeling generous and fearless, I walked straight up to him and embraced his thick torso from behind. I buried my face in his muscular neck—like a child his mother. The monk didn’t act surprised at all by my “ambush.” Instead, he grabbed my hands and pulled me tighter against him. Then his hand directed mine to hold his sex, now damp and puffed hard like a poisonous fish.

Finally the monk turned to face me, and our lips instantly stuck together. After a long, entangled kung fu stunt with our tongues and limbs, he took off my clothes, flung them to the ground, and with his muscular arms lifted me up to a strong, wide branch of an ancient tree. He kneaded my breasts with his deft, lotus-bud-forming hands, alternating with sucking my nipples hungrily with his sutra-chanting lips. I moaned and howled and screamed as if in pain. My body trembled as if thrown into hellfire or submerged in freezing water. When he finally parted my legs and entered me, he did that with such sheer power, pure yang energy, and fierce concentration that I was sure this sexual kung fu must be the result of his bitterest practice.

I let out a heaven-shattering cry. The rustling leaves echoed “Aaahh! Aaahh!” as the branches shook violently in the erotic wind. When he came, he exclaimed in his resonant voice, “Oomarulang! Oomarulang! Oh, heaven Oomarulang!” It was a weird cry, but I was touched nonetheless.

After this series of outbursts, the monk’s instrument slipped out of me as he buried his head between my breasts, his lips slightly teasing my nipples. I moaned and squirmed in pleasure at this post-sex bonus. I caressed his shaved head like a mother her scanty-haired newborn. This hermit monk—where did his strong desire come from? Certainly not from his disciplined meditation and sutra reading, practiced for exactly the opposite purpose—to curb desire. Were his practices futile? Or is it that human desire cannot be curbed?

In the dark womb of the night, neither of us spoke, each savoring the unspeakable after-pleasure of this primitive act between a man and a woman. I was very tempted to ask the meaning of “Oomarulang” but decided to keep my mouth shut so as not to mar the moment.

Without a word, the monk lifted me down from my branch, helped me put on my clothes, then carried me back to the temple.

After stepping inside the hall, he gently put me down. “We can spend the night in my room.”

It was the first time I’d been inside a monk’s bedchamber. It was quite bare except for a brazier placed at the corner next to a lamp and a calligraphy scroll with the word si—mortality—hanging on the wall facing the bed. Strange that someone would have this unpleasant reminder of the inevitable in front of him each morning when he wakes up.