Shaolin’s CEO Monk Latest Expose: $1.53 Trillion, 51 Mistresses, and a Global Laundering Web

Take a look at this photo. Can you imagine a monk staring intently at a beautiful woman in a red backless dress, his gaze fixed on her until she disappears from sight? Or even taking the initiative to kiss the hand of a glamorous CCTV host right in front of the camera, and, under the pretense of calligraphy and painting exchanges, posing for photos with a variety of beautiful women? The arrest of the capitalist monk and charismatic abbot, Shi Yongxin can be said to be one of the biggest scandals in China in July 2025. Shi Yongxin's life, brimming with both talent and charm, is enough to leave people stunned. But perhaps the greatest scandal is not what the public has already seen. Lurking beneath the surface is something far darker. Money laundering. Today, let's tear away yet another mask from this businessman disguised as a monk. A shocking announcement. By late July, rumors about Shi Yongxin had spread wildly across social media. Reports claimed he had been arrested by Kaifeng police in Henan province before July 25th. Then, on July 26th, a WeChat user posted what they called a public security notice, making an even bigger splash. According to the document, on July 26th, Shi Yongxin tried to flee to Los Angeles on China Eastern Airlines flight MU583 from Shanghai Pudong airport, accompanied by seven mistresses, 21 illegitimate children, and six Shaolin temple assistants, 34 people in total, but was intercepted by authorities. The second part of the notice was even more sensational. Investigators allegedly found he had not seven, but 51 mistresses, and not 21, but 174 children, 141 of them born via surrogacy. His mistresses were said to control Shaolin temple assets worldwide, and he had transferred US$413.26 billion to overseas Shaolin branches, plus over 40 foreign registered companies. His total assets were claimed to be US$1,531.28 billion, with another US$213.11 billion of unknown origin stashed in Cayman Islands and Swiss accounts. The notice was signed by Kaifeng Public Security Bureau. The precision of the figures, down to two decimal places, stunned even seasoned netizens. Reporters called Shaolin temple for confirmation, but its spokesperson hung up as soon as the media was mentioned. Netizens then sought answers from Kaifeng police. On July 27th, the official Kaifeng police Weibo account, Ping'an Kaifeng, declared the public security notice a fake and urged people not to spread it, saying only that work is underway, without specifying whether that meant tracking rumor mongers or something else. But less than a day later, on the evening of July 27th, the dismissed rumor became reality. Shaolin temple's official website and multiple media outlets confirmed three key points from the so-called fake notice. Xi Yongxin is suspected of criminal offenses. He embezzled Shaolin temple assets and amassed great wealth. His private life is in complete disarray. In short, this so-called eminent monk not only failed to uphold Buddhist purity, but proved greedier than most lay people. However, the staggering figures, U.S. $1.53 trillion in total assets and U.S. $213.11 billion hidden offshore, remain unverified and sound wildly implausible. For comparison, Hui Kaiyan, also from Henan, was China's richest man in 2019, yet his wealth never exceeded U.S. $400 billion. The idea that Xi Yongxin, an abbot, could be worth four times that amount strains belief. So why did these figures appear in the first place? To understand that, we must first look back at Xi Yongxin's turbulent rise as a CEO monk. Seizing the abbot's seat and petty theft? In March 1981, 16-year-old Xi Yongxin arrived alone at Shaolin temple on Mount Song, carrying an old blanket, 30 yuan, and 20 jin of food coupons. The abbot at the time, Xi Xinzheng, became his preceptor and gave him the Dharma name Xi Yongxin. A year later, the jet-live film Shaolin Temple became a massive hit, grossing $16.6 million in Hong Kong and 1.6 billion yuan in mainland China, transforming the once-quiet temple into a global kung fu landmark. Before the film, Shaolin had under 20 monks and survived on incense donations and 28 mu of farmland. Afterward, visitors surged from 200,000 in the late 1970s to 2.6 million by 1984, and ticket revenues soared. Xi Xinzheng, blind in both eyes and living frugally, appointed 19-year-old Xi Yongxin in 1984 as one of the managers of the temple's Democratic Management Committee, making him the youngest second-in-command in Shaolin's history. According to Xi Yongxin's ghost-written autobiography, in 1985 his ailing master considered him as successor after Yongxin boldly volunteered one night, "'Master, I can shoulder what you once carried. Make me abbot.'" Moved, Xi Xinzheng allegedly decided to pass him the position. When Xi Xinzheng died in October 1987, 21-year-old Xi Yongxin became abbot of China's most famous monastery, gaining national media attention and political appointments. After 13 years as abbot, he was formally installed as Shaolin's fangzhong, head abbot, at age 34. But in 2015, a whistleblower named Xi Zhengyi accused him of moral corruption and revealed documents claiming his abbotship was obtained through deceit and misconduct, and that he had, in fact, been expelled from Shaolin years earlier. According to these documents, on May 10, 1987, Xi Xinzheng wrote to the Buddhist Association of China, stating that Yongxin was overly ambitious and unfit to succeed him. The letter, written months before his death, alleged that Yongxin stole the temple's Dharma scroll, falsely claimed the abbot's title in interviews, inflated travel expenses to pocket funds, appropriated temple property, and even stole money from his master's room during a medical trip to Beijing. The Buddhist Association replied that such matters were internal, and the abbot had the right to expel violators. Acting on this, honorary abbot Xi Deqin expelled Yongxin to protect the Zen sect's reputation. Yet mysteriously, despite being expelled, Xi Yongxin remained at Shaolin and 12 years later became abbot. The 2015 allegations were dismissed by authorities and faded from view. Each time he faced accusations, Xi Yongxin somehow emerged unscathed. A billionaire with a business brain of steel. Since the release of the Shaolin Temple film in 1982, Shaolin, Shaolin Temple, and Shaolin Kung Fu have become famous IPs worldwide. But at the time, neither the temple nor China had a mature market economy, and few recognized the brand's huge commercial potential. Many prominent figures in Shaolin and across the mainland even criticized chasing fame and profit. Only Xi Yongxin saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, calling the movie a giant commercial for Shaolin Temple and remarking, without advertising, who would know us? Soon China was flooded with Shaolin products. Shaolin beer, Shaolin cigarettes, Shaolin cars, Shaolin hotels, Shaolin sausages, martial arts troops, Kung Fu schools, and films falsely bearing the Shaolin name sprang up everywhere. The problem wasn't just profit making, it was that these tarnished Shaolin's image. Beer and sausages? Monks don't drink alcohol or eat meat. Recognizing the value of branding, Xi Yongxin took action. In 1993, he sued a company for advertising Shaolin sausages on CCTV and won the following year, marking his first victory in defending the temple's rights. That same year, he registered Shaolin as a comprehensive trademark, set up a company specializing in IP litigation, and even pursued cases overseas. By 2025, Xi Yongxin had registered 988 trademarks across 45 categories, covering Shaolin's core products and spinoffs like the Shaolin Medicine Bureau, combining martial arts with manufacturing, along with design patents and domain names. He was, in every sense, a businessman. Today, trademark licensing alone brings in huge sums such as for the Shaolin Legend video game, Century of Shaolin documentary, fashion lines, tea, and food products, earning tens of millions of U.S. dollars annually. The Shaolin business empire now spans publishing, creative culture, food and beverage, tourism, medicine, live performances, media, real estate, even AI, and the metaverse. In 2023, Xi Yongxin appeared at Meta's San Francisco headquarters to speak on Zen Meets AI, a piece of news so absurd it was almost comical. This hardly looked like the Buddhist path. Most of these ventures operate through Shaolin Temple Intangible Assets Management Co. Ltd., Shaolin Si Guan, whose largest shareholder from the start was Xi Yongxin himself with 80%. His disciple Xi Yongxian held 10%, while Shaolin Temple owned just 10%. Here, the CEO monk emerges, wearing a 160,000 yuan kasaya, prayer beads worth tens of millions, driving Mercedes and Audi, investing billions, keeping multiple mistresses, including a second wife overseas, and fathering a string of illegitimate children. Today, Shaolin Temple's revenue comes from ticket sales, IP licensing, cultural tourism, real estate, incense offerings, donations, and more. Some estimate its annual income at 1.5 to 1.8 billion yuan. How much did Xi Yongxian personally take? How much went upward to his backstage patrons? How much did local officials receive? How much was spent keeping mistresses, raising children, buying houses and cars? Only a full investigation will tell. Massive Money Laundering? Xi Yongxian's biggest scandal may lie right at the beginning of the story, in the public security notice that Kaifeng police dismissed as fake. In reality, it may have been an exposé released ahead of its time. That notice highlighted two striking figures. Xi Yongxian had allegedly transferred U.S. $413.26 billion in assets to overseas Shaolin branches. His total assets were estimated at U.S. $531.28 billion. Back in 2015, when whistleblower Xi Zhengji's accusations went viral, the BBC's Chinese service sent a reporter to interview the CEO monk. The reporter asked him point blank, 1. Do you have mistresses and illegitimate children? 2. Do you own any companies or real estate? 3. Have you used the Shaolin temple name for personal profit? Xi Yongxian gave no direct answers, nor did he deny the rumors outright. Instead, he hinted, if these things were a problem, they would have been a problem long ago. In 2015, his wealth was estimated at around U.S. $3 billion. Ten years later, given his public land purchases, continuous investments and major business moves, it's plausible his fortune has grown. But over yuan trillion dollars? That's hard to believe. The more interesting figure is the first, over U.S. $400 billion moved to overseas Shaolin branches, plus more than 40 related companies abroad. In recent years, cross-border transfers on that scale have often been linked to international money laundering. In other words, in such operations, Xi Yongxian may have been both mastermind and frontman. The money wasn't necessarily all his. It likely included funds belonging to powerful backers behind the scenes. Consider a concrete example. In 2015, Xi Yongxian personally traveled to Australia and, in Shoalhaven, New South Wales, purchased roughly 1,284 hectares of land for over aught 4 million under the Shaolin temple name. According to Chinese and Australian media, he planned to invest aught 260 million to build a Shaolin village there, complete with a temple, luxury Shaolin hotel and Shaolin school, promising local jobs. The local government was thrilled, and patriotic Chinese saw it as Shaolin going global and showcasing China's strength, even creating jobs for foreigners. But a decade later, Shaolin village is nowhere to be found. Not only was the temple never built, the land is now overgrown with weeds, taller than a man. This is straight out of China's anti-money laundering textbook, using foreign investment projects as a front. The likely playbook? Set up the Shaolin village project, buy land, and transfer dirty money overseas under the guise of Shaolin corporate investment. Use it to purchase luxury homes, wait for the children of powerful families to immigrate, then quietly transfer ownership. The illicit funds are now clean, in the form of legitimate real estate and other assets. As for the Shaolin village? It was never going to be built. The fake security notice also alleged that Xi Yongxin sent money abroad under the guise of temple construction, cultural promotion, or media projects. Another textbook laundering tactic, funneling funds into overseas shell companies as expenses. Who were these overseas temple builders or cultural promoters? They were companies set up by Xi Yongxin or his trusted aides. The next link in the chain, turning dirty domestic money into legitimate foreign business income. Finally, through dividends or other channels, the money flowed into accounts tied to Xi Yongxin and his backers. Sound familiar? This was also the classic laundering method used by Hong Kong triads in the 1990s film industry. What do you think? Leave your comments below. Thanks and goodbye.