In tattered robes and a bamboo hat worn, Golden chakram through fire, a sight to adorn. Three times in snow, his Zen heart tried, Neither foe nor friend, just mischief implied.
Gray and white, ice and snow blanketed the entire mountain range. In a deep valley, there was a peculiar cave with a lush green watermelon field, thriving exceptionally well. A young monk was in the field, picking melons, patting them here and there, but none seemed to satisfy him.
Next to the watermelon field stood a strange man wearing a bamboo hat, watching the young monk pick watermelons. "My brother said that if there's a chance, I can test the monkey on his behalf," he said,
The young monk finally picked up a watermelon, weighed it in his hands, and smiled, "This one is good, ripe and sweet. The one you mentioned, I've already checked him for you, he's good."
The strange man replied, "If I don't test him myself, I won't be at ease to tell my brother about him."
The young monk exerted his strength and split the watermelon in half, "Instead of feeling unease about him, I worry more about your brother."
The strange man pondered for a moment and said, "The thing is guarded by my brother. There is nothing to worry about."
The young monk, munching on both halves of the watermelon, said noncommittally, "That thing tests the bearer's heart greatly. He has borne it alone for many years, let's hope he doesn't fail at the last moment."
The strange man quickly responded, "That's why, if this time that monkey succeeds, wouldn't it be the best of both of you?"
The young monk stopped, looked up at the strange man, who quickly bowed his head and apologized.
The young monk laughed again, waved his hand, and said, "Go, go. First, pass my disciple's test, then we'll talk about the rest."