"Amitabha Buddha, benefactor of water, the Buddha said, 'One should think of the difficulty in obtaining even a bowl of porridge or a bowl of rice, and always remember the hardship in producing even a thread or a strand of cloth.' You really won't drink millet porridge?"

"No, I won't drink!"

Shui Yuntian felt acid reflux and her eyes were on fire.

What kind of lousy porridge is this? Even pigs wouldn't eat it, yet you dared to let him drink it!

Shui Yuntian, dressed in a monk's robe, leaned against the half-wall of the dilapidated temple. His bald head pounded hard on a half-brick that was about to fall, as if he were imagining Xiang Wan, venting the frustration he had been feeling all day.

Ever since being kicked out of the inn, Shui Yuntian has hated Xiang Wan to death.

As a dignified sect leader, when had he ever lacked money? Take his robe, for example—it was made of the finest cloud-patterned satin and woven with gold thread. Even if it was old and damaged, it could have fetched a hundred or two taels of silver at a pawnshop. But what happened? Xiang Wan, who didn't know its value, simply threw it away as trash.

It's lost!

He accepted it, even though it was lost.

Surely he could exchange his tokens, silver buckles, and ornaments for some money? But this stinky monk said they were ill-gotten gains and should be used to help the poor.

Fine, I'll give them a handout, but the poor person in question is none other than the bald monk himself!

How the hell can you tolerate this?!

He couldn't even get a piece of clothing, and they were using his money to order the waiters around. All the good food went into the monk's mouth, and he was so angry that he fainted most of the time, so he was never full!

After staying for a few days, he had squandered all his money, and only then did the stinky monk find him a dirty and tattered old monk's robe, which he then gave him for free!

If it weren't for his lack of internal strength, which prevented him from escaping or dodging, he would have torn the monk to pieces in no time.

Now look what's happened! I begged for a bowl of rice from someone, and I've cooked it over and over in this dilapidated temple, but all I see is clear water and no rice. Is that even edible?

My mouth felt bland, I was hungry, craving food, and had no energy; even standing up was difficult.

He suspected that the bald man was doing it on purpose, not giving him enough food and torturing him so that he wouldn't have the strength to escape.

Shui Yuntian gripped the broken brick at his feet tightly. If that stinky monk dared to force him to drink porridge, he would make that bald monk pay, even if it cost him his last bit of strength!

To everyone's surprise, Xiang Wan didn't go over. She just looked at Shui Yuntian with regret, poured the still steaming porridge back into the broken pot, added firewood to cook it, and kept adding things to it as it cooked.

"The leader of the Tianmen Sect is indeed different. He cultivates his character and wants to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Bodhisattva. This humble monk has no choice but to reluctantly grant your sincere wish. This porridge with ginseng in it will fill the stomach of this impure monk."

Ginseng?

Damn it, we don't even have money to stay at an inn, where are we going to get the money to buy ginseng?

"Bald man, you're lying to me!"

“You flatter me, benefactor. I am a Buddhist and would never deceive anyone.”

Because in this humble monk's eyes, you are not even human.

Xiang Wan didn't say this aloud, afraid that Shui Yuntian would be too agitated and faint again, leaving her to carry her around. Xiang Wan didn't want such a good thing to fall into Shui Yuntian's lap.

"If you're not lying to me, where did you get the money to buy ginseng?"

“Amitabha, this humble monk is sincere, and this was given to me by the Buddha.”

Sending? Sending you, you stinking monk, to the Western Paradise would be more like it!

"I don't believe you. Show me the package."

"Eh? Benefactor Shui, you finally admit that you're in cahoots with this humble monk?"

"Bald monk, are you ever going to stop? This leader is not a monk!"

"Oh, then I'm sorry, this humble monk's bundle is only for monks to see."

"you……"

In a fit of anger, Shui Yuntian suddenly exerted all his strength, turned his head, and slapped towards Wan.

Xiang Wan caught the broken brick with a wave of her hand, placed it under the firewood, and casually said, "Any more? Give me a couple more."

"You bald-headed monk, go see your Buddha!"

With sheer strength, Shui Yuntian threw all the bricks she had shoved down towards Xiang Wan, who easily caught them. She then built a larger stove, and the fire burned brighter and brighter.

Before long, Shui Yuntian gave up.

How could I not feel discouraged? My stomach started growling again, and I felt like the acid was about to rise to my throat.

Even a normal person, after going hungry for several days and not even having enough water, wouldn't have the extra energy to struggle.

Xiang Wan ignored him, took out a bowl from her bundle, ladled out a bowl of porridge, and started drinking it. She smacked her lips contentedly as she drank, which infuriated Shui Yuntian. He drank plain water, but the monk drank ginseng—could there be anything more infuriating?

"Monk, let's make a deal. You give me ginseng porridge, and I'll have the Tianmen Sect members send you silver, how about that?"

The fact that he can speak so softly shows that Shui Yuntian is still up to no good and wants to escape.

Xiang Wan ignored him and continued blowing on the porridge to drink, which smelled delicious.

"You stinking monk, do you really want me to starve to death?"

Shui Yuntian's eyes reddened slightly as she began to put on her acting skills.

Xiang Wan dared not underestimate this future devil. Even if he pretended to be pitiful, it was only a temporary measure. A true man can bend and stretch; she refused to believe that Shui Yuntian would give in for a bowl of porridge.

After looking Shui Yuntian up and down, Xiang Wan shook his head and said, "Amitabha, it's not that this humble monk doesn't believe in you. It's just that with your appearance, I'm afraid you'll be beaten to death if you reveal your name. This humble monk is compassionate and will certainly not let you lie dead in the street."

mercy?

I haven't heard this word in so many years, and to hear it coming from the mouth of a monk who tied him up and humiliated him is truly ironic.

"You monks, so hypocritical and sanctimonious, chanting scriptures and reciting Buddha's name for whoever has money. Have you ever seen the real suffering of ordinary people? Compassion? Humph!"

No one would believe it if I told them! Shui Yuntian, who kills only when he feels like it, actually talks about the suffering of ordinary people. It's really quite amusing.

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