Ryuji wasn't entirely convinced.
Even if, in the monk's eyes, his cultivation method was stronger than that of the abbot himself, Ryuji still couldn't believe there was no such thing as an immortal cultivation technique.
"Really? There's truly nothing like that?"
After all, as a Chinese, the dream of becoming an immortal was etched into his very bones.
If he couldn't be a god, then surely becoming a Buddha would also do!
The abbot looked rather helpless.
To him, Ryuji's path of cultivation was not only legitimate but practically the most orthodox of orthodox paths. Ryuji had refined his own style to suit his condition, constantly seeking power within himself. Even if he were judged by the highest Taoist sects, there would be little to criticize.
"Honored guest, if there really were a fixed, universal path to immortality in this world, wouldn't everyone already be an immortal?"
The abbot's words carried both patience and resignation, but Ryuji wasn't ready to give up.
Because the very existence of this monk his demeanor, his presence proved beyond doubt that there were immortals in this world. And if immortals existed, then cultivation to become one was possible.
And if cultivation was possible, who in their right mind would waste time with magic tricks or ninja arts?!
Wasn't immortal cultivation far superior?!
"But I've heard people say that the scriptures of this world appear differently to each person."
The abbot fell silent for a moment, then sighed.
"Ah, honored guest, you've gotten yourself stuck in appearances. If I truly possessed some immortal scripture, do you think my cultivation would be lower than yours?"
He spread his hands, showing his helplessness.
"And yet, you're not wrong. Classics and scriptures do appear differently to each reader. Even in the West, there are those who achieve enlightenment simply by studying the Bible. But honored guest, don't you see? All such classics are merely guidelines. No two leaves are the same beneath heaven, nor are two worlds ever identical. What works in one world will never be identical in another. The only true path is the one that suits oneself.
"You, honored guest, strengthen your blood and body, refining the energy within. You draw out the latent potential of your flesh. That is the most orthodox cultivation there is. Perseverance, humility in seeking instruction, a mind turned toward the Dao, untainted by greed or corruption such a path already surpasses ninety-nine percent of cultivators in this world."
The abbot pressed his palms together. He hadn't wanted to say so much, but Ryuji's yearning left him no choice.
After all as an enlightened person, it is natural to tell the story to those who seek knowledge.
My mind is pure? Entirely devoted to the Dao?
Ryuji's expression turned odd. If his mind was pure, then the world must be free of lust.
And if he was entirely devoted to the Dao, then what of those ascetics who had spent their whole lives chasing immortality?
But the abbot seemed to read his thoughts. He pushed open the window of the room. At this time, flower petals drifted on the breeze outside for some reason. He plucked one between his fingers, then turned and smiled faintly at Ryuji.
"Honored guest, why do you seek longevity?"
Ryuji didn't even need to think.
"Of course to do the things I love. Otherwise, what's the point of living forever?"
"And your fondness for women is that for vanity's sake, or something else?"
"Just… because I like them."
Ryuji scratched his head, suddenly uneasy. For an instant, he couldn't sense the abbot's presence at all.
It was strange almost as if the abbot… was everywhere?
His face stiffened. Stephen Chow's movies often had these strange Buddhist themes, where great figures weren't lofty sages high above, but ordinary folk right beside the protagonist.
Take Ji Gong, for example, or the stories of Journey to the West. The mighty often walked disguised among mortals.
Even in God of Cookery, Guanyin herself had disguised as a street vendor to enlighten the hero about the nature of love.
This abbot… could he also be one of those hidden figures?
"To pursue immortality not for power, but to do what you love free of karmic burden, how could that not be considered a pure heart?"
The abbot chuckled lightly, then added:
"To love women not out of vanity or greed, but out of genuine affection such a pursuit is also a form of sincerity. To grow stronger for the sake of what you truly love, tell me, how is that not a form of devotion to the Dao? Honored guest, though this is our first meeting, I can say with certainty: you are already walking the right path."
He smiled broadly at Ryuji. A breeze swept through the room, scattering countless flower petals behind him.
"So why cling to the notion of some external scripture? To read classics merely hoping to extract a secret technique for immortality, that only insults the sages who wrote them."
He shook his head with a sigh, pressing his palms together as though mourning for the world.
"Those classics were never written to serve as cultivation manuals. They were created so that peace might endure. Yet in every world, people study the classics their whole lives without grasping their true spirit or intent. It is truly lamentable."
The more Ryuji listened, the stranger it felt. He couldn't sense the abbot's aura at all anymore. Finally, he couldn't help but ask:
"Abbot… you're not…?"
One moment the abbot was three meters away. The next, he was standing directly in front of Ryuji, pressing a finger to his lips.
"Buddha said: unspeakable."
Though the man was right before him, Ryuji couldn't sense him in the slightest. He could see him with his eyes, clear as day, yet it was as if the monk wasn't there at all.
If my guess is right…
Ryuji's eyelid twitched. If this monk was truly who he suspected, one of the Buddha's incarnations, sent here to enlighten seekers then that phrase meant only one thing:
Don't say it aloud.
Seriously, just what's going on with these hidden masters…?
As Ryuji was still turning the thought over in his mind, the abbot pressed his palms together once more.
"Honored guest, if you truly wish to study martial arts techniques, the temple's scripture library is open to you. You may browse at will. But I suspect that, for you, most of it will be of little real use. What I hope instead is that you will read the classics carefully and understand the deeper truths within them. As for cooking.... given your talent, I doubt it would take long for you to master. The monks here will gladly give both you and your companion full access."
Having said this, the abbot drifted away.
Ryuji watched his retreating figure, still feeling uneasy.
"…So was that some advanced aura-concealment technique, or is he really a hidden master?"
Shaking his head, he decided not to dwell on it. Whether the abbot was a genuine enlightened monk, or truly some incarnation of the Buddha himself, sent to guide seekers it didn't matter.
Even if the man had some immortal cultivation manual, it was his. Whether he wished to share it or not was entirely his choice. Ryuji had no intention of forcing anyone.
Besides, cultivating stolen techniques was dangerous. Who knew what flaws, traps, or hidden curses might be woven into them?
One mistake, and you could end up dead.
"Forget it. At least Misato can have a look at these martial manuals."
He quickly cast aside his frustration at failing to obtain any "immortal scripture." No point stewing over something unattainable.
Dragging along a restless Misato who was getting tired of waiting, Ryuji headed for the scripture library.
But just as he left, the abbot chuckled softly behind him.
"What a pity. We share no fate."
With that, he turned toward the bushes, intending to retrieve someone else....one who was still mired in delusion, blinded by greed for fame and fortune, unable to face his true heart, with no love in him at all.
For this task was far more pressing.
Misato, for her part, didn't ask what Ryuji and the abbot had spoken about. The moment she stepped into the scripture library, she froze in astonishment.
"The Vajra Indestructible Body?!"
She stared wide-eyed at the titles on the shelves. A moment later, she spotted another.
"The Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic? The Marrow-Washing Sutra?! Wait—this one's the Pure Yang Infinite Skill—isn't that from Wudang? Oh, oh! And this one—the Huashan Primal Unity Technique… Hold on, it just says 'Huashan' outright, is that really okay?!"
Overcome with excitement, Misato nearly trembled. Now that she could sense qi, seeing all these legendary manuals laid before her was overwhelming.
Ryuji, meanwhile, pulled out a book titled Shaolin Northern Darkness Divine Skill, flipped it open, and could only twitch the corner of his mouth.
Because the very first line read: "In the Northern Darkness, there is a fish…"
"…This is clearly a Daoist technique, isn't it?"
He sighed. He'd always known Stephen Chow's films liked to parody the old saying "All martial arts under heaven come from Shaolin," but seeing this in reality felt absurd.
In truth, that old claim had always been little more than propaganda to glorify Shaolin. Many Buddhist martial arts were, in fact, distinctly Daoist in origin.
Take the classic Vajra Indestructible Body, for example its principles were pure Daoist philosophy, and Ryuji knew it well.
Of course, in China's long history, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism had blended together, with sects like the Quanzhen School openly embracing all three. So at this point, who could say who had borrowed from whom?
Still, looking at the manuals, Ryuji couldn't deny he was intrigued. He quickly flipped through the Northern Darkness Divine Skill.
But after just a few pages, he frowned.
Because…
The manual's true purpose was to transform the entire body into a vessel for inner energy, expanding one's capacity for qi. The ability to absorb another's internal force was merely a side effect. The real essence was to inhale and exhale the nourishment of heaven and earth.
The effect was similar to a siphon effect, and its proper application was to absorb the ambient qi of heaven and earth, strengthening both body and spirit.
You could almost call it a cultivation method for immortality.
Ryuji gave it a try and did feel something peculiar, a faint awareness of the qi flowing through all things in the world around him.
But…
He could already do that. Compared to refining his blood energy and letting it nourish his body, this method of relying solely on qi was simply too slow.
For him, the Northern Darkness Divine Skill was practically useless.
His entire body already served as a reservoir for energy. And he had no need of siphoning heaven and earth's qi, it was inefficient and required constant adjustment with his own energy. Too slow.
The manual's core teaching, however, was noteworthy: don't fixate on one thing or one place. The dantian is only an imagined organ. Your entire body is your dantian. Just as heaven and earth have no true center, yet still birth titanic beings like the Kunpeng. Recognize the vastness of the cosmos, and the smallness of yourself.
That philosophy was its real treasure.
Ryuji set the Northern Darkness Divine Skill back and picked up the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic. But this time he skimmed even faster and grew more disappointed the further he read.
The classic's main purpose was to strengthen the body's foundation, improve the purity of qi, and refine one's constitution. But Ryuji's blood-energy techniques already accomplished the same thing more efficiently.
He tried circulating it briefly, but the results were mediocre. The methods were interesting, yes, but far slower than simply flooding his body with blood qi. Its central philosophy boiled down to a single truth: "Life is movement."
Yes. The manual essentially preached that regular exercise was the key to a strong body.
So he put it back and tried the Marrow-Washing Sutra.
This one he discarded even faster. It was all about restructuring the body, but blood qi already let him do that with ease. Skimming the pages, he realized it was less a combat manual and more a health regimen—about stretching the body, circulating blood and qi, and promoting wellness. Not a fighting art at all.
So, at last, he turned his gaze toward the Vajra Indestructible Body.
But after only two pages, he set it back down. Its essence was nothing more than using energy to resist injury while tempering the body. More importantly, it taught that one should focus wholly on the task at hand when thinking, quiet the mind and think properly; and if you want to act, move immediately and decisively. The famed "indestructible" aspect was really just a side effect.
This was something he already practiced instinctively. With only a few glances, he had already understood how the technique worked.
So, instead, he pulled out the Tathagata Palm.
And this time, the feeling grew even stranger. Although it was clearly written as a combat manual, the moves themselves were strikingly simple, yet the overall impression it left was bizarre.
The text was less about martial forms and more a relentless barrage of questions: Do you truly understand what it is you want? Have you considered what your desires may bring? Do you realize the consequences of your actions? Do you understand what "love" really is?
On and on it went, a litany of probing doubts. As for actual martial instruction, there was surprisingly little.
In terms of raw power, the techniques didn't appear that formidable. Studying it closely, Ryuji got the sense that the Tathagata Palm wasn't meant to channel physical strength at all, but spiritual force. It reminded him of the concept of "Awakening" from the world of Arad, an expression of power drawn directly from the spirit.
Yet there were no concrete methods laid out. It was as though merely grappling with the questions posed in the manual would naturally lead one to manifest an overwhelming, unparalleled strength.
"…Strange."
Ryuji rubbed his temples. Something felt off. To anyone else, these would absolutely be regarded as supreme cultivation techniques. And yet to him, each one read less like a martial technique and more like a general principle of cultivation.
He kept flipping through the manual, but the more he read, the clearer that impression became.
Especially when it came to those manuals that emphasized flashy combat forms, Ryuji couldn't help but find them crude. At most, they offered a few interesting concepts or unique ways of exerting strength.
But with his current mastery of energy control, speed, and raw power, nine out of ten of these so-called techniques were nothing more than clumsy farmer's swings in his eyes.
"…No, something's wrong."
The more he thought, the stranger it felt. He stopped flipping through manuals and sat in silence, reflecting on everything he had learned so far. The more he pondered, the clearer it became: much of what he had practiced was unnecessary. Many of his instinctive movements when wielding a weapon had never truly drawn out his abilities.
Instead, what surfaced in his mind were modern combat techniques.... the ways of generating force, the scientific understanding of the human body, and the refined methods that modern martial arts had developed.
Not only that.... when he recalled the Shiranui style ninjutsu, he immediately discerned its true principle.
"It's about striking at the flow of energy in the opponent's body, implanting one's own force to detonate it. But Mai turning it into some 'ultimate move' actually weakened it. The real method should be slipping one's internal energy along the opponent's flow without them realizing, and when they draw on it, detonating it from within. Forcing energy in directly and exploding it is actually less effective…"
The more Ryuji analyzed, the more flaws he discovered in his swordsmanship, in his methods of circulating energy, in countless small habits he had overlooked.
"And even my blood-Qi arts… many parts are wrong. Even if adjusted, all I've really done is reduce the pain, it doesn't optimize the technique. Worse, it dulls the understanding of just how dangerous blood-Qi arts truly are…"
The abbot's words echoed in his mind. Ryuji had obtained his blood-Qi techniques from the world of Arad, yes... but what he wielded now was no longer the same as the berserkers' art.
To G.S.D and the others, it might still look like blood-Qi arts. But to him, it was something else entirely.
"Internal energy runs its circulation cycles… my blood-qi technique is always coursing through me as well. Internal energy purifies itself, strengthens the body; my blood-energy does the same. Inner cultivation draws on the qi of heaven and earth to refine one's own; I can sense that too. But my own blood-energy replenishes me far faster… That has to be tied to my unique constitution. Which means ordinary cultivation methods really don't apply to me."
"So-called Immortal power, divine power, blood-energy, internal energy and qi... in the end, they're all just forms of energy. In my body, blood-energy, magic, chakra, qi… the difference is only the ratio of spiritual energy to life force. They can't substitute for one another simply because blood-energy is too violent, its units far exceed the density of magic or qi. Forcing interchange is like plugging a deep-sea creature into the open sky or an appliance into the wrong voltage."
The more he thought, the clearer everything became. Almost unconsciously, he began to examine his own body anew.
Where did his strength truly come from?
Blood?
No, that stemmed from body and spirit.
Qi?
No, that too comes from body and spirit.
Magic and chakra it was the same. The only difference lay in how much was spiritual energy and how much was life energy.
"In other words… my blood-energy is essentially also magic, also qi, also chakra, also inner force. And inner force is also blood-energy, magic, qi. In essence, they're all just energy stored in the body. The so-called special qualities, the differences in absorption, the gaps in quality between energies that look alike… it all comes down to…"
He stared at his hand, realization dawning. The more he thought the more he felt that his previous methods of use were wrong.
"Intent. Energy carries one's will and thought. The stronger the person, the more their energy bears their will."
Clenching his fist, Ryuji felt that he had figured out a lot of things.
And as that understanding settled, that all the energies in his body were his own, nothing more... the sword on his back began to tremble faintly.
Moonlight washed over him. Ryuji lifted his gaze towards the moon in the sky, whispering without thinking:
"…Beautiful."
In his eyes, the light of the moon wasn't just pale glow, it was countless strands of pure energy. It was the sun's power, but softened, tempered by reflection until it became something gentle and serene.
He didn't even reach for his sword. The blade on his back lifted of its own accord, floating before him. Once again, he reached out to sense the world's will. In that instant, his own intent resonated with the sword's spirit, the will of the world bound within it.
Time itself seemed to slow. Within the reach of his perception, all energy became dyed in his will. He felt it with terrifying certainty: if he swung now, mountains would collapse, even time itself could be torn apart. Nothing here could resist him.
But—
The state lasted only an instant. Dizziness struck like lightning. Clutching his head, Ryuji collapsed to the floor. His blood-energy was completely drained, his body left hollow, his mind clouded and heavy. He could barely remain conscious, let alone think clearly.
Is the consumption… that high?
That was his last coherent thought before darkness swallowed him whole.
When he fell, the abbot appeared soundlessly within the scripture library. He glanced at Misato, who was still obsessively engrossed in manuals, sitting on sacred sutras like stools while clutching the scraps Ryuji had discarded as though they were treasures and sighed. Then he looked at Ryuji, who almost died, and shook his head.
With no choice, he lifted Ryuji onto his shoulder and carried him to the guest quarters.
Misato, he ignored. She wasn't the only one lost in obsession.
But Ryuji had to be saved quickly. Otherwise, there would be no saving him at all.
Sensing his condition, the abbot frowned.
"Blood-energy exhausted… the Five Decays of Heaven and Man. Donor, do you have no sense of measure? To recklessly touch such a realm, fortunate you met me. Otherwise, you'd have been bedridden for two, three years at least."
With another sigh, he carried Ryuji inside.
Ryuji had no idea how long he slept. When he woke, it felt like nothing more than a nap. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was the abbot's smiling face.
"You're awake?"
The abbot smiled. Instinctively, Ryuji flinched back a step, but quickly realized: this monk had saved him.
He wasn't stupid. He remembered clearly: last night, when he resonated with his sword and awakened, the sheer scale of the will he touched had drained him completely.
"…My thanks, Master Abbot, for saving me."
He offered his gratitude sincerely. The abbot merely chuckled and waved his hand.
"Nonsense. With the amount of money you've given, even if you asked me to wash your feet, this poor monk wouldn't refuse! Carrying you to bed and giving you a Great Rejuvenation Pill was nothing."
He grinned as he said it, deliberately showing Ryuji the pill box.... its price tag still clearly visible.
Great Rejuvenation Pill: 30,000 RMB each.
Ryuji: "..."
It wasn't that the price was too high.... it was far too low.
And judging by the box, there were still dozens of pills inside.
So while handing over his wallet, Ryuji couldn't help but ask curiously:
"Master Abbot, aren't Great Rejuvenation Pills supposed to be incredibly rare?"
The abbot snatched his wallet without hesitation, leafing through it with the practiced fingers of a seasoned street hawker. Wetting his thumb with spit, he began counting each note with mercenary precision as he answered.
"Oh, they were. The ingredients used to be outrageously expensive—lingzhi, ginseng, antler velvet, snow lotus, and so on. Of course they cost a fortune… back in the old days. But now? With modern industry, what's really rare? This stuff's not even as valuable as vitamins. Ginseng, antlers, snow lotus—they're all farmed now. I'm just charging labor. Here, this is the recipe and preparation method. Don't say I cheated you."
Ryuji took the recipe, glanced at it once, and immediately saw the truth in the abbot's words.
The listed ingredients would have been priceless in ancient times—ox bezoars, ginseng, antler velvet, bear bile, rhino horn. The pill itself, however, was absurdly simple to make. Steam the herbs, grind them into paste, mix, roll into pellets—that was it.
The real work wasn't alchemy, it was kneading.
No pill furnace, no mystical refinement.
Suddenly it all made sense. In the past, these ingredients were rarer than gold. In this world, with mass cultivation, when even celestial peaches could be sold at markets.... thirty thousand was a bargain.
"..."
Looking at the laughably simple recipe, remembering the "legendary" manuals he'd seen in the scripture pavilion that felt underwhelming in his hands, Ryuji couldn't help but shake his head.
So much for his wuxia dreams.
The abbot casually pocketed the money and, just like that, shifted back into the serene bearing of a great monk.
"Donor, I recall you came here to learn the Shaolin Temple's cooking skills, correct?"
Ryuji nodded. In truth, his sudden interest in studying cultivation manuals was only a whim. Cooking had always been his true purpose in coming here.
"Then follow me."
The abbot smiled lightly and led Ryuji toward the kitchen.
The moment they stepped inside, Ryuji was struck with disbelief.
The number of cooks was staggering—row after row of monks were busy at their stoves, woks clanging, flames rising. Chicken, duck, fish, pork—every dish imaginable was being prepared. Though the flavors leaned heavily toward Cantonese style, he could spot elements of nearly every cuisine represented here.
Only…
"Abbot, can you really finish eating all this food?"
Ryuji turned to the abbot in confusion. He counted at least three hundred monk-chefs. The Shaolin Temple itself was barely the size of a small elementary school. Why on earth would they need so many cooks?
To his surprise, the abbot looked at him as though he'd just asked the most obvious question in the world.
"Donor, you truly don't know?"
"…Know what?"
"We are the contracted caterers for the workers' canteen! Other than the meals we eat ourselves, everything else must be delivered to the workers' dining hall, so that those hardworking laborers can eat well!"
"…"
Ryuji's jaw dropped. He had no words. The abbot, meanwhile, patted him on the shoulder with solemn earnestness.
"My young friend, surely you don't think we monks eat meat out of simple gluttony, do you?"
As he spoke, the abbot plucked a roast duck leg from a nearby platter, biting into it with relish while continuing his lecture.
"The workers' canteen is for our brothers who toil day and night. Of course, we must see to it that they eat well! And to avoid waste, we share the same meals."
But that wasn't what Ryuji wanted to complain about.
"It's just… the idea of the Shaolin Temple running a cafeteria service…"
His eyes wandered to the walls, where bold red slogans hung proudly—slogans about production, awareness, diligence, brimming with the passionate zeal of another era.
No matter how he looked at it, such banners inside a Buddhist temple were simply too surreal.
You're so far ahead of the times that I don't even know where to begin ridiculing you.
At last, Ryuji understood why such a tiny Shaolin Temple needed such a massive kitchen and why Stephen Chow could cook so many dishes.
So the great martial arts prodigies… were really cafeteria chefs all along!
"Donor, cooking is just like life itself. Only when you truly understand what you wish to give others can you make food that touches the heart. After all, whether a dish is delicious isn't determined by how rare or costly the ingredients are, it's about whether it was made with genuine heart."
The abbot chuckled, then left, leaving Ryuji standing alone amidst the bustling kitchen.
Almost immediately, a monk who looked very busy pointed straight at him.
"You there! Go chop firewood! If the rice isn't steamed in time, we won't be able to deliver it to the People's Canteen!"
Ryuji blinked before realizing he was being ordered around. Not offended in the slightest, he quickly grabbed a stack of firewood and carried it over, watching carefully as the monk skillfully controlled the heat for steaming rice.
At the same time, Ryuji extended his senses, probing the auras and wills of the cooking monks around him.
What stunned him was how little effort it took. He didn't even need to focus. With the lightest touch of his perception, he could feel the blazing conviction in each of them.
Every monk carried the same intent: to cook well for the workers and comrades who labored at their posts. Their burning determination blazed like fire, clear and undeniable.
If it had been just one or two monks with such willpower, Ryuji wouldn't have been surprised. But here, all three hundred monk-chefs radiated that same single-minded spirit. The realization left him shaken, more certain than ever.
"This place really isn't ordinary… Could the abbot actually be the Buddha's secret avatar?"
Just then, he was sent to fetch water. Ryuji raised his fingers in a sword gesture, and with a flick, water streamed from the well straight into the water tank.
But almost instantly, the rice-cooking monk burst out, red with fury.
He glared at Ryuji's water manipulation and rolled up his sleeves as if ready to fight to the death.
"Who told you to use martial arts?! Don't you know our buckets are specially made? Water drawn with them carries a delicate fragrance that makes the rice taste better! Wahhh! Don't hold me back! I'll fight this brat to the end today!"
Before he could finish, other monks rushed in and hoisted him away, while Ryuji stood bewildered, overhearing muttered reassurances: "Don't mind the newcomer,""He's new! New!" and "You'll get yourself killed!"
Watching their fiery seriousness, Ryuji pursed his lips.
Yes, they might seem overly obsessive…
But wasn't this exactly what it meant to put one's heart into something?
Looking at the water tank, Ryuji sighed. He remembered the real reason he came here. This was all for preparing a gift for Erina.
If that was the case, then of course he had to put in his whole heart.
So he cleared the tank with water manipulation, then grabbed the wooden bucket and carried it himself.
If it was for Erina, he couldn't afford to cut corners.
Meanwhile, Misato was still buried in martial arts manuals, utterly captivated.
Her heart held only one desperate thought:
This can save my world, right? It must be able to save it…
As she circulated the internal energy, a seven-colored polygonal shimmer began to radiate from her body. A force at once overwhelming and impenetrable surged forth—
A force known as the AT Field.
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Author's Note:
I just want to clarify, I don't mean any disrespect toward traditional xianxia.
The point of this chapter was simply to show that Ryuji can seamlessly adapt and use techniques from other worlds.
As for my interpretation of the abbot, it actually came from rewatching Stephen Chow's God of Cookery and other Hong Kong classics. I'd been toying with the idea of writing a Hong Kong–style crossover arc, so I revisited those stories. In the end, I thought: since we're already here, why not explore it a little?
This also ties into a hallmark of Stephen Chow's films. His works are deeply infused with Buddhist philosophy he has a real fondness for it, especially themes of enlightenment, redemption, and the "worldly great man who uplifts the fallen." God of Cookery, King of Beggars, even Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons all follow that same pattern.
But what I love most about Stephen Chow's movies is a single idea he conveys again and again:
No matter how powerful you are, you still have to live. And to live means inevitably revealing the "ordinary side" of being human.
In other words: ordinary people can be heroes, and heroes are still ordinary people. Gods and mortals aren't so different in the end what matters most is what kind of person you choose to be.
"A hero doesn't have to be handsome."
Especially Kung Fu—that film expressed this theme perfectly.
==========
T/N: That above was what the author wrote in his notes which I have includes because previous 2-3 chapters were full of cultivation stuff.
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