Xie Lian was stunned. Seeing the slender young man carrying a large bag of rags for him, and doing so with such composure, made him think, "What a sin!" Sanlang took a few steps and left. Xie Lian was about to catch up when he suddenly remembered the old man driving the cart, still lying on the ground. He turned back and reached out to wake him, urging him not to tell anyone about what had happened tonight. The old man, having witnessed his skill along the way, dared not go back on his word. He nodded repeatedly and hurried home, dragging Old Huang along.
The only thing left on the cart was a roll of mat. Xie Lian picked it up and looked back to see Sanlang already carrying the huge bag of messy things in one hand and walking up the hillside leisurely.
Arriving in front of the crooked Puqi Temple, Sanlang lowered his head and chuckled, as if he had spotted something interesting. As Xie Lian approached, he realized he was looking at the sign asking for donations for the dilapidated buildings. He coughed lightly and said, "See, that's it. That's why I said earlier, you might not be able to get used to living here."
Sanlang said, "Very good."
In the past, Xie Lian had always said, "It's okay, it's okay," to others. Today was the first time he'd heard someone say that to him, and it was hard to describe the feeling. The original wooden door of the Puqi Monastery had long since decayed, so Xie Lian dismantled it and replaced it with a curtain. He walked over, lifted it, and said, "Come in." Sanlang followed him inside.
The furnishings inside the small wooden house were clear at a glance: a rectangular altar, two small wooden stools, a small cushion, and a donation box. Xie Lian took the things from Sanlang's hand and placed the fortune stick holder, incense burner, paper and pen he had bought on the altar. He lit a red candle that someone had slipped in while collecting scrap, and the room suddenly became brighter. Sanlang casually picked up the fortune stick holder, shook it, put it down, and said, "So, is there a bed?"
Xie Lian turned around, silently put the mat off his back, and handed it to him.
Sanlang raised an eyebrow and said, "Only one, right?"
Xie Lian had just met this young man on his way back from town, so naturally he hadn't thought of buying an extra ticket in advance. He said, "If you don't mind, we can squeeze in tonight."
Sanlang said: "That's okay."
Xie Lian then took the broom and swept the floor again. Sanlang looked around the temple and said, "Brother, is there something missing from your temple?"
Xie Lian had finished sweeping the floor and was squatting there spreading out the mat. Hearing this, he said as he did so, "I suppose, besides the believers, there shouldn't be anything missing."
Sanlang also squatted down, holding his chin with one hand, and asked, "Where is the statue?"
After he reminded him, Xie Lian suddenly remembered that he had actually forgotten the most important thing - the statue!
What kind of temple is it without a statue of the deity? Even though the deity is here, we can't let him sit on the altar every day.
After pondering for a moment, Xie Lian found a solution and said, "I just bought some paper and pen. I'll draw a portrait and hang it up tomorrow."
If word of his own portrait hanging in his own temple reached the heavens, he would probably be laughed at for another ten years. However, carving a statue was both expensive and time-consuming. Compared to that, Xie Lian chose to be laughed at for ten years. Unexpectedly, Sanlang said, "Drawing? I can draw. Do you want some help?"
Xie Lian was startled, then smiled and said, "Thank you in advance. However, I'm afraid you can't paint a portrait of Prince Xianle." After all, almost all of his portraits were burned eight hundred years ago, and no matter how many survive today, I'm afraid not many people have seen them. Sanlang said, "Of course I can. Weren't we just talking about this Crown Prince in the carriage?"
Xie Lian remembered. Indeed, on the way there, he had said, "You probably haven't heard of him," but Sanlang hadn't replied. Hearing him say that now, he was slightly surprised. He spread out the mat, straightened up, and said, "Don't tell me, Sanlang, you really do know him?"
Sanlang sat on the mat and said, "I know."
The young man's expression and tone of voice were quite interesting. He smiled constantly, but it was hard to tell whether his smile was genuine or a mockery of the other person's worthlessness. Xie Lian had listened to his chatter all the way and was quite interested in his comments. He sat down next to him and asked, "So, Sanlang, what do you think of this Prince Xianle?"
The two of them stared at each other under the lamp, the red candlelight flickering slightly. Sanlang's back was against the candlelight, his dark eyes sunk in the shadows, his expression unclear.
After a while, he said, "I think Jun Wu must really hate him."
Xie Lian was not expecting such an answer. He was stunned and asked, “Why do you feel that way?”
San Lang asked, "Otherwise, why was he demoted twice?"
Hearing this, Xie Lian smiled faintly, thinking, "That's really how a child thinks."
He lowered his head and slowly untied his belt as he said, "This has nothing to do with whether I hate it or not. There are many things in this world that cannot be simply explained by hate or like."
Sanlang said, "Oh."
Xie Lian turned around, removed his white boots, and added, "Besides, if you do something wrong, you should accept the punishment. The Emperor simply fulfilled his duty twice."
Sanlang remained noncommittal and said, "Maybe."
Xie Lian took off his coat, folded it, and prepared to put it on the altar. He wanted to say something else, but when he turned around, he saw Sanlang's gaze fixed on his feet.
That gaze was strange. It was icy cold, yet it felt scorching hot and piercing. It was blazing, yet it also had a hint of chill. Xie Lian looked down and understood. The young man was looking at a black cursed shackle on his right ankle.
The first cursed shackle was securely placed around his neck, while the second was tied tightly around his ankles. Both shackles were locked in the wrong place, leaving no room for obstruction. In the past, if others had asked about this, Xie Lian would usually casually reply that it was necessary for training. But if Sanlang asked, he wouldn't be so perfunctory.
However, Sanlang simply stared at his ankle for a moment without saying anything. Xie Lian didn't dwell on it and lay down. The young man also lay down beside him obediently, fully clothed. Perhaps he wasn't used to sleeping on the floor without clothes. Xie Lian thought, "I'll have to get a bed later," and said, "Rest."
With a gentle blow, the red candle goes out.
The next morning, Xie Lian opened his eyes. Sanlang wasn't lying beside him. He looked up, and his heart trembled. Above the altar hung a portrait.
This portrait depicts a man in rich clothes and a golden mask, holding a sword in one hand and a flower in the other. The brushwork and coloring are superb.
It is a picture of "Prince Xianle pleasing the spirit".
Xie Lian hadn't seen this painting in years. He stared at it for a long moment, stunned. After a while, he stood up, dressed, and raised the curtain. Sanlang was just outside the house, leaning in the shadows, twirling a broom in his hands while staring at the sky with boredom.
This young man seemed to genuinely dislike sunlight. The way he looked up at the sky, it was as if he were contemplating how to pull the sun down and crush it. Outside the door lay a pile of fallen leaves, all swept and piled together. Xie Lian went out and asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"
Sanlang, still leaning against the wall, turned his head and said, "Not bad."
Xie Lian walked over, took the broom from his hand, and said, "Sanlang, was that the portrait in the temple painted by you?"
Sanlang said, "Yeah."
Xie Lian said, “This is a really good painting.”
Sanlang's lips curled up, but he said nothing. Perhaps because he'd slept so carelessly all night, his hair was tied even more askew today, loose and unkempt. But actually, it looked quite nice, casual but not messy, and rather playful. Xie Lian pointed at his hair and said, "Do you want me to help you?"
Sanlang nodded, and went into the temple with Xie Lian. When Sanlang sat down, Xie Lian untied his hair, held the black hair in his hand, and examined it carefully without any expression.
Even if palm prints and fingerprints are perfectly executed, demons and monsters will always have a flaw somewhere. A living person has countless hairs, each one meticulously and distinctly separated. Many ghosts and monsters create fake skins whose hair is either a black cloud, or clumped together like strips of cloth, or... simply pretending to be bald.
After confirming the palm prints and fingerprints last night, Xie Lian had originally let down his guard, but the portrait he saw this morning couldn't help but make him slightly suspicious again.
It's not that the painting is bad, but that he finds it strange because it is too good.
However, he gently stroked Sanlang's hair with his fingers, slowly exploring it. The boy's black hair was long and straight, clearly without any abnormalities. After a while, perhaps because he was tickled by his touch, Sanlang smiled, tilted his head slightly, glanced at him sideways, and said, "Brother, are you helping me tie my hair, or are you thinking of doing something else?"
His long hair flowed down, his handsomeness undiminished, yet there was a strangely sinister air about him. Asking this question, as if teasing, Xie Lian smiled and said, "Alright," and quickly helped him tie his hair up.
Unexpectedly, after finishing the ceremony, Sanlang glanced at the basin beside him, turned around, and raised an eyebrow at Xie Lian. Xie Lian looked at him, coughed lightly, and rubbed his brow.
This hair was crooked when I tied it up just now, and it's still crooked now.
Although Sanlang said nothing, just staring at him, Xie Lian felt as if he hadn't been this embarrassed in at least hundreds of years. He lowered his hand and was about to say, "Come here, let's do this again," when he heard a commotion outside the door, the sound of voices and footsteps, and several loud shouts: "Great Immortal!!!"
Xie Lian was startled when he heard this. He rushed out to see a large crowd gathered outside the door, all of them excited and flushed. The village chief, leading the group, rushed over, grabbed his hand, and exclaimed, "Great Immortal! A living immortal has arrived in our village! This is truly wonderful!!!"
Xie Lian: “???”
The rest of the villagers had already gathered around him: "Great Immortal, welcome to our Puqi Village!"
"Great Immortal! Can you bless me to find my wife?!"
"Great Immortal! Can you bless my family to give birth to a baby soon?!"
"Great Immortal! I have fresh water chestnuts here! Want some?!"
The villagers were overly enthusiastic, and Xie Lian was forced to retreat repeatedly under the pressure, groaning inwardly. That old man was such a big mouth last night! I'd clearly told him not to tell anyone, but this morning, the whole village was buzzing with rumors!
The author has something to say: Monsters are coming soon, and then they can live together, collect scrap, and fight monsters at the same time (Get lost!
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