Rebirth: How A Loser Became A Prince Charming

"Hello, benefactor. Please accept my courtesy."

"How do you do, master? I called Master Guolin two days ago. I’m Qin Guan."

The young master was taken aback. He seized Qin Guan up from head to toe. A few days ago, his master had shared the exciting news with him.

Qin Guan wanted to talk to them about the promotion of Chinese martial arts. From then on, the Buddhist monks would get very familiar with Qin Guan.

Words are but a gust of wind. Seeing is believing. It makes sense that he is so popular considering his looks.

The monk saluted Qin Guan again. "One minute, please..."

Then he turned around and shouted at his students in an imposing manner, "Good! The first stage is over. Take a 15-minute break. We’ll continue practising when I return."

"Yes, master!" The students spoke Chinese with a strange accent.

If one ignored the foreigners, who took up 60% of the total student number, this seemed like an ordinary Chinese martial arts club. Qin Guan followed the vigorous monk.

Behind the courtyard was a library, a hall of 500 Arhats and the dormitories of the monks. The 1,000-square-meter field was reasonably arranged by Guolin according to the traditional Chinese architecture theory of "fitting everything between squares and circles". It was a miniature of the Shaolin Temple back in China.

Before Qin Guan could come to his senses, they had reached Master Guolin’s living quarters.

The young monk knocked on the door. A low voice was heard from inside.

"Come in, please."

The monk pushed the door open, took a bow and then retired politely. Qin Guan narrowed his eyes to adjust to the light. Then he saw the person inside the room.

"Benefactor Qin. Come in, please!"

The monk was sitting cross-legged on a futon. He was wearing an ordinary yellow robe and holding an old prayer in his hands.

"Take a seat, please."

Men of faith were always different from ordinary people. Qin Guan thought that the master deserved to be an eminent monk.

Master Guolin looked as calm as a sadhu engaging in Dharma. The ordinary robe looked like an exquisite Kasaya on his body, both solemn and magnificent. People couldn’t help but worship him.

"Thank you, Master Guolin. I came here today to discuss the activity we talked about on the phone. I would like to talk about the details."

"My plan is to take advantage of the national party of the police union and unite all the founders of martial arts clubs all over New York to stage a big coup..."

Qin Guan’s plan was simple. It would be easy for the superiors of the Shaolin Temple to show the beauty of Chinese martial arts. Master Guolin listened to his detailed plan quietly, only nodding at the best points.

A few minutes later, Qin Guan finished his introduction. When he looked at Master Guolin, he saw a smile on his face.

Suddenly, he relaxed. If the Shaolin School agreed to his plan, the other clubs were sure to say yes.

His task had been fulfilled. Qin Guan had just decided to leave his present and say goodbye, when Master Guolin asked him, "Does your plan mean that you are one of us?"

Qin Guan felt awkward. "A little. I have gotten some lessons from a direct successor of Baguozhang."

"You are so modest. We have to get to know each other before the performance though. May I have the honor of enriching my experience by studying your skills?"

"No problem." Thank god I have been practising these past few days.

"The front yard is big enough. Follow me, please..."

Master Guolin assumed a serious attitude. When they returned to the front yard, all the students stood up to salute him before they scattered to make space for them.

To be honest, the yard was much simpler than Qin Guan’s working site, but he felt an unprecedented pressure because of the students and the master’s presence.

He didn’t want to lose face before the entire American martial arts circle, but all he could do was pray to the heavens that he remembered what Mou Xiaoliu had taught him.

Combat martial arts and performance martial arts were quite different. The audience would be shocked by his acting skills, but any real martial artist would be able to tell that Qin Guan’s skills were all style and no substance.