Chapter 15 Water Dragon Chant (Part 5) Teach her.

A month ago, Grandmother clearly made the trip to Baoxiang Temple. When Lin Mama went there herself, she returned smiling and said that the abbot had already agreed and that Master Wenkong was just waiting to take care of some miscellaneous matters before she could come to the mansion.

Ye Mu knew that Kong Xingzi was cold as ice, but he was a man of his word and always kept his promises. For several days in a row, she practiced calligraphy with extra care, refusing to rest even when her wrists were sore, just hoping for his arrival.

But no matter how long he waited, the Awakening of Insects had passed and the Spring Equinox was approaching. Even the swallows under the eaves had carried mud back to their nests, but there was still no sign of that person!

How far is Baoxiang Temple from the Marquis's residence? At most, it's only the distance of an incense stick's worth of travel. Even if he strolls slowly, he could make more than a dozen trips in a month.

Ye Mu became increasingly frustrated and stopped in front of Wen Kong.

As Wen Kong was trying to find his way, his vision suddenly went dark. There was a little person who looked like a pink dumpling, with her hair in two buns, her cheeks puffed out, and her almond-shaped eyes staring at him without blinking.

He took a half step back, clasped his hands together, nodded slightly, and said in a voice as clear as ice and jade, "Young benefactor, may I ask where the west wing of the third house of your household is located?"

"You have the nerve to ask for directions!" Ye Mu, who had been holding back his anger for days, finally found an outlet, hands on his hips, exuding an imposing aura. "I've been waiting for you for a whole month! You promised to teach me to write, but the spring flowers are almost withered. Do you monks also lie?"

The feelings of respect and fear I had for him in my past life had long been worn away by this daily anticipation, leaving only a bellyful of resentment.

Wen Kong lowered his gaze slightly; he truly did not know that this trip was specifically to teach her.

The abbot only said that a young lady from the Marquis's mansion wanted to learn calligraphy and needed someone to guide her in the brushstrokes, without specifying who it was. A thought crossed his mind that it might be the fourth young lady who wanted to give him frostbite cream. He heard everyone call her that. However, he was by nature quiet, did not pry into other people's private affairs, and did not like to talk much.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Ye Mu saw him standing silently for a long time, as if he hadn't heard her, and her anger flared up even more. Why was he even more taciturn than in her previous life?

She couldn't help but stomp her foot and said angrily, "What important matter have you been handling these days?"

Wen Kong glanced at her, unsure whether to go left or right, so he could only reply, "This humble monk is going home."

"You actually have a family?" Ye Mu was momentarily surprised.

She knew nothing of this in her previous life, and had never heard Kong mention it even after living in the temple for several months. Curiosity instantly overwhelmed her annoyance, and Ye Mu couldn't help but take half a step closer, surrounding him and asking, "Where is your home? If you have a home, why did you enter the Buddhist order at such a young age?"

The laws of the Great Jin Dynasty clearly state that men under the age of forty whose parents are both alive are not allowed to be ordained. If he has a home to return to, how can Baoxiang Temple allow him to receive the precepts? Furthermore, even if his family is in dire straits, is it really more unbearable than the bullying of fellow disciples in the temple?

Ye Mu's thoughts raced, and she couldn't help but scrutinize him closely.

He was still wearing that coarse hemp monk's robe, with a dusty gray crossbody bag slung across his side. It seemed to be his only garment. The cuffs and collar were more worn than before. After the New Year, he seemed to have grown taller, and the robe was much shorter and narrower, making his figure appear even more austere and solitary.

If you're coming home, why don't you even have a decent set of clothes?

Wen Kong noticed her gaze, took two steps back, and brushed aside all the previous questions. "If you have no intention of practicing calligraphy, young benefactor, then this humble monk will take his leave."

Having said that, he actually turned to walk away.

"Hey, hey, who gave you permission to leave?" Ye Mu was anxious and quickly grabbed the hem of his monk's robe. She couldn't argue with a blockhead. "I'll learn, I'll learn. But after waiting for you all this time, you should repay me with double the time today. Just wait for me to finish my business."

Wen Kong lowered his eyes to look at her fingers, a tiny pinkish-white dot tightly clutching the dusty edge of her sleeve. With a slight exertion of his wrist, he shook her hand off. He didn't understand what a young lady like her needed to do at the door, but he stopped and didn't move.

Before long, the sound of carriages and horses was heard at the side gate. Ye Mu exclaimed in a low voice, "They're here."

Three covered carts were rolling over the bluestone threshold, with high bundles of silk piled on top and covered with oilcloth. The cart shafts creaked under the weight.

As soon as the car stopped, the person darted to the side of the car like a cat.

The man driving the carriage was a stranger, and he was exchanging his name tag with the gatekeeper for verification.

Ye Mu approached the last cart, poked the cloth bundle with his finger, and tilted his head to ask the man, "Uncle, are all these floral fabrics from Yun Jin Xuan? How many bolts can you haul in one trip?"

Upon seeing that the young lady was as delicate as a jade dumpling, the man grinned and replied, "Replying to Miss, there are a total of ninety horses. Our cart is sturdy and can carry thirty horses at a time."

“Thirty horses…” Ye Mu muttered, her eyes sweeping over the mules pulling the cart. Their manes were disheveled and their hooves were still covered in dry mud. She pointed at the mule and asked, “It must be exhausted. Did you come from Yun Jin Xuan from a long way?”

“It’s not far, it’s not far. This beast is used to running around all day,” the man hurriedly waved his hand. “It’s just over at the West Market, about three or four miles away. A round trip only takes an hour or two.”

Ye Mu nodded, and while the man was handing over the coin bag to the gatekeeper, he tiptoed and peeked at it. The coin bag was thin and could hold at most a hundred or eighty coins.

She secretly calculated that the round trip was not far, and the cost of the journey was no more than a hundred coins. One cart had thirty horses, and three carts had ninety horses, which would amount to less than two coins per horse. Yet Zhang Niangzi dared to report one tael per horse on the books!

That wicked servant has a heart blacker than the bottom of a pot.

Ye Mu turned and strode quickly, her embroidered shoes lightly touching the bluestone path. She wanted to go to her mother's courtyard to report what she had seen, but after taking two steps, she suddenly remembered Wen Kong by the door. She paused slightly, turned her head and hurriedly said, "Master, please wait here for me for a moment. Do not move."

Before she could even see his reaction, she lifted her skirt and ran into the hanging flower gate.

After carefully explaining the details of the carriages, horses, and fares to Liu, he returned home, and the sun was already beginning to set.

When Ye Mufang arrived at the side gate, to his surprise, the figure in the gray-blue monk's robe was among the servants, silently helping to unload the silk bundles from the carriage.

He was slender, yet his movements revealed a hidden strength. His coarse hemp sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of his lean forearm, which was almost dazzlingly white in the sunlight. His fingertips gripped the hemp ropes binding the goods tightly, turning red from the effort. Despite the heavy load pressing down on his shoulders, his back remained ramrod straight.

The gatekeeper stood under the corridor, rubbing his hands. Before Ye Mu could ask, he stepped forward and said with an awkward smile, "Fourth Miss, you're finally back. I thought this young monk was a distinguished guest you brought, so I should invite him to rest in the side room. But when he saw the servants struggling to carry things, he insisted on helping. He said he was just waiting, and I couldn't stop him."

Wen Kong placed the last piece of fabric down, straightened up, dusted off the dust on his monk's robe, and glanced at Ye Mu, "Young benefactor, are you finished?"

Ye Mu stared at the neatly stacked cloth bundles in the side room, nodding in a daze. She recalled how in her past life she often saw him bandaging injured fledglings, rabbits, foxes and other small animals, and distributing incense money to the old women and children in the surrounding villages. The kindness and compassion in his bones had never changed, and even though he was being bullied by his fellow disciples, he did not harbor any resentment.

Perhaps so, otherwise why would his handwriting always carry an air of war?

"Master, do you also have a lot of unhappiness in your heart?"

In the west wing study, light and shadow filtered through the window, and the fragrance of sandalwood wafted softly.

Wen Kong stood before the desk, examining Ye Mu's past calligraphy practice. When she asked, he didn't even raise an eyebrow. "No."

His tone was indifferent, dismissive, and cut off all further conversation.

Ye Mu was unwilling to give up and had to find his weakness. She noticed that he had just unloaded the goods and there were several faint old marks on his arms, which looked like they were left by whipping. She didn't know if they were from his fellow disciples at the temple or from his family.

Unable to suppress the unease in his heart, Ye Mu asked again, "Do your family members treat you harshly?"

Although Ye Mu had interacted with him in her previous life, he was already the Imperial Preceptor, exuding an awe-inspiring presence. She had to be careful even to glance at him, let alone dare to pry into his privacy. In this life, when they met again, he was still a helpless little novice monk, being bullied by others. Ye Mu felt less fear and more protective of him.

Seeing his silence, she leaned closer and asked three times in a row, "Are you really willing to become a monk? If someone is forcing you, perhaps I can help you."

Wen Kong's gaze never left the paper. His slender fingers swept across the paper, finally stopping at one spot: "The brushstrokes are weak and superficial, the form is scattered and the spirit is broken."

He's so quiet, you can't even get a fart out of him!

Ye Mu cursed inwardly, but then saw him suddenly put down the scroll of paper and turn to walk outside.

"Hey, hey, don't leave again!" Ye Muxin panicked and chased after him, lifting her skirt. "I didn't write well, I'll practice more. Why do you always leave?"

"This humble monk will not leave."

Wen Kong walked to the large celadon vat in the courtyard, bent down and scooped up a ladle of water. He then took out a plain white porcelain bowl from his satchel and poured the water into it, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

Ye Mu followed him back into the house with eager eyes.

"Hang your wrist." Wen Kong gestured for her to sit down, then instructed her to raise her right arm. He spread Xuan paper on the table and placed the bowl of water under her wrist. "If the water spills, then practice for an extra half hour."

Ye Mu's wrist suddenly stiffened, and she had no choice but to try to lift it. The pen tip trembled as it touched the paper. Her original intention was only to use the excuse of practicing calligraphy to help him out, but she did not expect to be forced to practice so hard. She immediately regretted it and secretly complained that she had brought this trouble upon herself.

Who would have thought that, despite his young age, he would be so shrewd in dealing with people!

However, in a short while, Ye Mu felt his arm aching as if it had been filled with vinegar, and the clear water in the bowl swayed slightly, almost spilling out several times.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, but finally couldn't resist and put down her pen to ask, "Master, this bowl isn't the one you use when you beg for alms, is it?"

A note from the author:

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Thank you for reading and saving this! I've recently seen so many of you send me nutrient solutions, thank you so much! Love you all! [shy][kiss]