Chapter 675 Ouyang Rong: I have a question, please enlighten me, Master! [Seeking monthly votes!]

The car was quiet for a while.

Just as Zhao Qingxiu was about to write, Pei Shisan Niang smiled sweetly:

"Young Master is busy. He said he's going to have dinner at your place tonight and will bring some friends. He wants to eat Dongpo pork, so he asked you to go to the East Market to buy some. Here, this is the money for the pork that Young Master gave me."

After she finished speaking, she took out a small, warm purse from her bosom and stuffed it into Zhao Qingxiu's palm.

Pei Shisan Niang gently cupped her small hands that were clutching the money pouch, leaned close to her ear, and whispered softly:

"Miss embroiderer, you should remember how to make Dongpo pork, right? The young master said he taught you."

Zhao Qingxiu nodded: "Mm."

She squeezed the somewhat familiar little money pouch, opened it, and poured out a string of copper coins. She touched it; the thick hemp rope tying the coins together was tied into a special bow—it was Tanlang's salary money.

Zhao Qingxiu put the small money pouch into her bosom.

Pei Shisan Niang smiled:

"However, it seems that this Dongpo pork needs to be simmered over low heat for most of the day. The stove in your kitchen in the courtyard can't do it. Why don't you go to my humble abode first, simmer the Dongpo pork there, and then take it back?"

"After we buy the pork, how about we have lunch at my house?"

Zhao Qingxiu's calligraphy:

Where does the old lady live?

"Xunyangfang, and the East Market is also in Xunyangfang, so we can go there by chance."

Zhao Qingxiu lowered her head and wrote with her index finger:

【good】

Pei Shisan Niang smiled.

After the carriage had been traveling for a while, it entered Xunyang Ward and approached the East Market. Suddenly, rain began to patter against the windows, making a soft, rustling sound.

Zhao Qingxiu lifted the carriage curtain and reached out to catch the rain.

She turned her head as if "looking" towards the quiet courtyard behind her, her expression worried.

"What's wrong with this pretty girl?"

I forgot to bring the clothes in; could I go home for a bit later?

Pei Shisan Niang chuckled softly:

"It's nothing, just a small matter. Someone will help the embroiderer collect the clothes."

Zhao Qingxiu thought of the Fang sisters and nodded slightly.

"Um."

...

Xiushuifang West Market is located a few miles away from a luxury car heading towards the East Market.

A shop with a sign that reads "Tao Shou Zhai" is open for business.

However, the guests it received today were somewhat special.

It's not about buying things in person.

A hundred-strong team of black-armored knights completely surrounded the Peach Longevity Pavilion.

There was also a team of about twenty constables in blue robes, who were traveling with the black-armored knights. However, instead of staying outside, they all rushed into Taoshouzhai and began a thorough search...

The guests who had been shopping not long ago, along with the manager and maids of Taoshouzhai, all stood in a row against the wall in the courtyard, being searched by the head constable in blue. Several managers trembled with fear, and some even urinated.

In the midst of the panic, everyone's gaze couldn't help but fall upon a young general in black armor riding a tall horse in the center of the courtyard.

The young general, seemingly the leader, stood on his horse in the center of the courtyard with a stern expression, staring at the gate of Taoshouzhai. The man and his horse remained almost motionless.

Outside on the street, passersby dared not stop near the entrance, and even later no one dared to pass by. They could only gather in a crowd at the street corner and solemnly observe Taoshouzhai.

However, a female official from the Censorate, who was patrolling the city as usual, looked puzzled, showed her Censorate token, and approached to ask questions.

The black-armored junior officer in the center of the courtyard took out two warrants from his robes, unfolded them, and gestured with measured precision, his voice as cold as iron:

"This humble general is acting on the orders of Ouyang Lianghan, the governor of Jiangzhou, and Qin Yi, the transport officer of the central army camp of the Southwest Rebellion Suppression Army, to search for merchants in the city suspected of colluding with the river pirates of Hukou County. Unauthorized persons are not allowed to approach, otherwise they will be dealt with on the spot for obstructing military affairs."

The female official from the Censorate paused for a moment, then, after confirming the warrant and seal were correct, stepped back and left. Before leaving, she couldn't help but glance a few more times at the Xuanwu Guard soldiers belonging to the central army camp at the front...

At this moment, a constable in blue robes rushed out from the backyard of Taoshouzhai. He was holding a secret letter in his hand. He only had time to clasp his hands in greeting to the black-armored young general before turning around and leaving. Escorted by ten black-armored riders, he sped off towards Xingzi Lake.

Dark clouds drifted overhead, pressing down on the city.

At a certain moment, a snow-white lightning bolt illuminated the sky and earth.

A few breaths later, the long-awaited spring thunder rumbled.

...

It turns out that bad weather can indeed affect the number of visitors to temples.

Even a temple like Chengtian Temple, located in the heart of the city.

Because of the limited medical resources in that era, catching a cold or getting sick was something that could easily bankrupt the whole family, and getting caught in the rain was not worth it. The weather greatly affected the travel of ordinary people.

Fang Shengnan, who came to Chengtian Temple to deliver a letter in a low-key manner, felt that the weather was just right.

With dark clouds overhead and a heavy rain threatening to stop, the fish in Xingzi Lake frequently rose to the surface to breathe.

The worshippers in the temple had all gone home early to collect their clothes, and pedestrians on the road were also hurrying home to avoid the rain.

Fang Shengnan was dressed in a gray men's suit and wore a low-key straw hat with the brim pulled down to cover her face.

She walked all the way to a Zen courtyard in Chengtian Temple, where almost no one paid her any attention.

Fang Shengnan lowered the brim of her hat, breathed a slight sigh of relief, and glanced out of the corner of her eye at the open gate of the Zen courtyard.

There is someone.

More than one.

Then, the sound of a woman crying could be heard.

Fang Shengnan came to the door and got a better look.

Inside the monastery, besides a middle-aged Zen master with a bald head, scarred features, and a pale, beardless face, there was also a heavily made-up woman with a sorrowful expression.

The former sat upright in a semi-open meditation room, wearing a plain black monk's robe uniformly issued by Chengtian Temple, holding a string of prayer beads in his hand, in a lotus meditation posture.

His expression was calm as he faced the open, doorless west side.

The latter seemed to be a pilgrim from afar; judging from his accent and height, he was from the north.

Two maids who accompanied him waited with their hands at their sides at the entrance of the meditation room.

Besides them, under the eaves not far away, a chubby little novice monk who had just returned from fetching his morning meal was engrossed in eating, enjoying his food immensely, and almost stole his master's entire portion.

Seeing this, Fang Shengnan started to wait in line at the door.

Not long after, inside the meditation room, the woman with a sorrowful face finished her long, tearful speech. At the end of her words, as if asking a question, she looked expectantly at the middle-aged Zen master.

The middle-aged Zen master looked at her, then at the gloomy sky outside the door.

He held up one index finger.

The heavily made-up woman beckoned to her maid, who took out an ounce of gold from her purse and respectfully handed it over.

The middle-aged Zen master remained silent, only raising one index finger.

The heavily made-up woman was taken aback, then took another tael of gold and stacked it together with the previous tael of gold.

The middle-aged Zen master, his face gaunt, pushed the gold aside, still holding up only one finger.

The heavily made-up woman paused, her eyes fixed on the Zen master's index finger, then slowly tilted her head back to look upwards.

At one point, she looked up, suddenly stood up, took off her jewelry and threw it next to the fallen gold on the ground.

A heavily made-up woman with disheveled hair went out.

As she walked in the courtyard, she looked up at the dark clouds that were gathering the seeds of thunder and rain.

The heavily made-up woman touched her face with both hands, trying hard to wipe it off, until her entire face was smeared. She kept walking forward, looking up at the sky as if waiting for a heavy rain to wash it away.

The two maids followed, somewhat bewildered.

Fang Shengnan watched with curiosity as the heavily made-up woman and her entourage left.

She queued up, entered the Zen temple, went inside, and sat down in front of the middle-aged Zen master, her sword resting on her lap.

"senior……"

Just as Fang Shengnan was about to speak, the middle-aged Zen master raised a finger.

She shut her mouth, looked up at the direction the master's finger seemed to be pointing, and looked up but could only see a slightly leaky gray roof, nothing else.

The middle-aged Zen master remained silent, still holding up one finger.

Fang Shengnan frowned and thought for a moment, then suddenly realized what was going on. She took out a secret letter from her bosom and placed it on the ground in front of the two of them.

Without saying a word, she stood up with her sword in her arms, clasped her hands deeply in a fist salute to the senior, and turned to leave.

After Fang Shengnan left.

Under the eaves, the chubby little novice monk named Juzhi finished his meal, ran back to the meditation room, and brought his master a bowl of vegetarian food.

The middle-aged Zen master, with a pure and desireless heart, ate his meal with his head bowed.

The young monk Juzhi carried a donation box back to the house, bent down to pick up the gold and jewels on the ground, put them into the donation box, and kept muttering, "Amitabha, the donors are so generous," "These are worldly possessions, they are worldly possessions"...

However, when he found the letter left by Fang Juxiu, he couldn't help but look at his master.

"Master, the letter brought by the Fang family's daughter..."

The middle-aged Zen master still raised one finger.

The young monk suddenly realized:

"Oh, everything is as before, right? Very well, as usual, I'll have the senior brother who went out to make the purchases deliver it to Taoshouzhai..."

The chubby little novice monk put away the letter and ran out the door.

Inside the Zen temple, only the middle-aged Zen master remained, sitting quietly under the eaves, picking up some vegetables and slowly chewing his vegetarian meal.

"Clang clang—"

The wind chimes hanging on the veranda of the Zen hut swayed in the increasingly strong lake wind, making a crisp sound, while the sounds of other Zen monks calling for the collection of clothes could be heard outside.

The middle-aged Zen master looked up at the wind chimes.

They remained silent, as if they had fallen into a state of profound stillness.

Under the eaves, a person and a wind chime silently "stared at each other," and it was unclear how much time had passed since the young monk Juzhi went to retrieve the message.

Just then.

"Knock knock knock, knock knock knock".

A worshipper politely knocked on the door at the entrance of the courtyard.

Inside the gate, the middle-aged Zen master put away his breakfast bowl, sat down again, straightened his black monk's robe, restored his appearance, and waited for the new worshippers to enter.

Ouyang Rong, carrying his zither case, entered the meditation room and sat down leisurely in front of the middle-aged Zen master.

"Master Yizhi, whose secular name is unknown, was born in the Xuankong Temple of the Chan School. His monastic name is still recorded in the Xuankong Temple. In his early years, for reasons unknown, he left without saying goodbye and traveled south to Xunyang, Jiangzhou, Jiangnan Province. He built a hermitage at Chengtian Temple and has been lecturing on Chan for twenty years."

As he put down the violin case, he recited the names as if they were his own treasures:

“There was a disciple named Juzhi. The two of them depended on each other for survival. Among the many Zen masters in Chengtian Temple, they were not particularly outstanding. The only thing they were famous for was that they often raised one finger, which was said to enable people to attain enlightenment.”

The middle-aged Zen master paused, glanced at the young man in Confucian robes whom he had met once before, and then turned to look at the doorway.

Outside the gate, the sounds of monks being expelled from the surrounding monasteries and main halls could be heard one after another, creating a very chaotic scene.

At that moment, a figure in blue uniform appeared at the doorway and stopped.

He seemed to be the follower of this young man in the scholar's robe, his face indifferent, holding a wooden zither in his hands, waiting quietly.

The young man in the scholar's robe seemed to want to make friends through the zither, but he only brought the zither case with him. Coupled with the smile on his face, it had a Zen-like quality of "buying a tree and returning a pearl." The middle-aged Zen master's eyes fell on the zither case.

At this moment, a weary-looking constable in blue robes rushed over from afar and arrived at the gate of the Zen temple. He found Yan Liulang and respectfully presented him with a letter. The middle-aged Zen master felt that the letter looked quite familiar.

After receiving the secret letter, Yan Liulang, expressionless, entered the Zen temple, approached Ouyang Rong, presented it with both hands, and earnestly reported:

"My lord, this letter was just delivered by that young monk. It was seized at Taoshouzhai. Now that the man has been caught red-handed, Taoshouzhai has closed in."

"oh."

Ouyang Rong's reaction was indifferent.

He took the envelope, didn't look at it at first, and casually tossed it onto the floor in front of the middle-aged Zen master, smiling without saying a word.

The middle-aged Zen master stared at him, then glanced at the letter that Fang Shengnan had sent on the ground.

The middle-aged Zen master raised his palms, closed his eyes, and moved his mouth as if chanting scriptures.

At this moment, the figure of the transport officer Qin Yi appeared at the gate of the temple. Behind him, a large number of indifferent black-armored soldiers were escorting the monks, including the abbot of Chengtian Temple, to the open space at the gate of the temple.

Among them was a chubby little novice monk, who was pouring out all the money from the donation box, his face streaked with tears.

"Sir, please don't arrest this humble monk and my master! We're not swindlers, we're really not swindlers! Is there some misunderstanding? Are these things from the donation box? These are things the donors didn't want themselves. This humble monk... this humble monk just picked them up... I'm helping them put them away, sob sob, I can't just leave them on the ground... This humble monk really didn't steal or rob..."

Yan Liulang stepped forward and said something to the chubby novice monk who had a mournful face. The latter was taken aback, and then looked timidly toward his master.

The middle-aged Zen master remained motionless, chanting scriptures with his eyes closed.

Seeing this, Ju Zhi had no choice but to behave himself and act as a guide, leading Yan Liulang to the backyard. Before long, the two returned, with Yan Liulang holding a somewhat special bronze short sword in his hand, which was slightly different from the ordinary Yunmeng Token that had been seized earlier.

Ouyang Rong took the special bronze short sword, ignored the bloodstain on the door, and casually tossed it in front of Zen Master Yizhi.

He also raised his index finger and earnestly said to the One-Finger Zen Master:

"I've come today for no major reason, but I have a question I'd like to ask the master."

"The so-called 'one' is non-dual. The Buddha's teaching of non-dualism means that monks have exhausted their worldly desires and severed all ties with the world."

At this point, he pointed to the blood-bronze short sword on the ground and asked with a curious expression:

"Master Bu Er, why did you accept the Yunmeng Order from the Yue Maiden and secretly keep this beheading weapon? Don't you know about the new imperial edict I just issued?"

"Please teach me, Master."

Ouyang Rong had a gentle voice.

But as soon as his voice fell, cries of agony and pleas for mercy rang out from all around, from the abbot of Chengtian Temple to the chubby little novice monk.

Ouyang Rong's expression remained calm, while the middle-aged Zen master opened his eyes, his gaze filled with compassion.

Ouyang Rong smiled and said:

"Oh right, I forgot to introduce myself last time we met. My surname is Ouyang, and my given name is Rong. Well, you might be more familiar with my courtesy name..."

"This humble scholar, whose courtesy name is Lianghan, is Ouyang Lianghan, the Prefect of Jiangzhou."

...

——————

(PS: My good brothers, please vote for me with monthly tickets~ or 2)

(End of this chapter)