The shrike's eyes flashed, and he quickly took out a bamboo tube from his back and handed it over. With his other hand, he pulled Xiao Nanhui up from the ground almost rudely.
Xiao Nanhui looked very reluctant: "It's just past midnight, I won't get drunk, it's okay if you let me drink some water here..."
Shrike carried Yao Yi on his back and winked at her frantically, but Yao Yi muttered in confusion, "What's wrong with your eyes? You're squeezing them so hard that they look very flexible..."
Shrike was so angry that she almost fell over. Yao Yi behind her had already opened the bamboo tube and taken out the contents. She no longer cared about anything else. She grabbed Xiao Nanhui's collar and dragged him out through the window they came in through.
Yao Yi came back to his senses and looked at the half-open window in surprise: "What's wrong? Why don't you go through the main door?"
As he spoke, his men had already unfolded the contents of the bamboo tube. It was the blueprint of the Zou family's old house in Murhe that Xiao Nanhui had borrowed.
When the drawing was unfolded to the end, there was a shocking water stain, which seemed to be blinding the viewer's eyes.
"Xiao Nanhui!"
Yao Yi's roar echoed far away from Wangchen Tower, startling a group of birds perched on the surrounding trees and causing them to fly away.
******************
It was late at night and the temple gate was deserted.
The noisy pilgrims during the day had already gone down the mountain, and the monks in the Zen room had turned off the lights and rested after their evening lessons. The entire Yongye Temple was as quiet as an empty temple, with only a few wild cats running hurriedly by, bringing with them a strong scent of gardenias among the grass.
A month ago, the camellias were in full bloom, but now it is the gardenias that are in full bloom.
In the darkness, two figures walked past the main hall, one in front and one behind. They did not hold lanterns or light candles, but their steps were light.
Thousands of candles burn in the main hall all year round, and a thousand butter lamps are arranged in the shape of a tower, making the Buddha statues in the hall look somewhat mysterious.
In the middle of the hall, a monk in a white cassock was tending to freshly picked gardenias. When the monk heard footsteps, he looked up and saw a face that looked unusually young. Or rather, there was a kind of innocence on that face that made it difficult to tell his age, especially his eyes, which were extremely clear, as if he could see through everything just by looking at him.
The candlelight illuminated the visitor's eyes and brows, which were consistent with the trance-like expression of the Buddha statue in the temple.
"Master Yikong." Zhongli actually bowed slightly.
Yikong returned the gift, his tone somewhat surprised: "Didn't the young master come here just a month ago? According to the rules, it's not time yet."
Zhongli replied calmly, "Of course I have something to do, so I came a little earlier this time."
The two seemed to have made an appointment, but Yikong was in no hurry to open the prayer flags and invite them into the hall. "Oh, then I'll have to trouble you, young master, to wait. There are many things to do in the hall. Two monks ran away yesterday. Now all the work has to fall on me, the abbot. I really can't spare the time."
After saying that, he took out a piece of rag from somewhere and started wiping the Buddha altar. He wiped the rag left and right, and he sighed left and right.
Ding Weixiang looked at this strange scene and could only look up at the top of the hall in silence for a long while, pretending not to see it.
Zhongli was well aware of the monks' thoughts and asked calmly, "How is the temple these days?"
As expected, Yikong frowned slightly, his expression quite bleak. "You also know that Yongye is a poor and remote place with bad mountains and rivers. It can't compare to the big temples. Most of the pilgrims who come here to burn incense are poor families. I'm afraid that the annual incense money is not even a fraction of what the Dacheng Temple pays. Recently, the area around the capital has been unstable. It is said that people are often attacked. Even fewer people come to the temple. Most of the monks who can still stay in the temple are used to a simple life and have no complaints. But the roofs of the east and west halls have been leaking for a long time. The old tiles can't be repaired, and new tiles can't be bought..."
"One thousand taels." Zhongli briefly ended Yikong's long speech.
Yikong paused, then continued, "There are still a few golden statues in the back hall that haven't been attached yet..."
"Gold." Zhongli added.
Yikong immediately threw away the rag in his hand, bent over and lifted the heavy prayer flags: "Sir, please come in."
Ding Weixiang, who was standing by, stared at the scene in amazement. For the first time, he felt that he had never seen this monk clearly.
The chanting platform behind the prayer flags is a different world, and it is the place where Yikong practices meditation.
Ding Weixiang took a glance and found that there was only a bed inside, and his face immediately became a little ugly.
"Master, I'll ask someone to add another bed. Isn't this a bit inconvenient right now..."
Yikong's ears twitched slightly, as if he had heard something. He looked at Ding Weixiang with a smile and said sincerely, "Guard Ding, you are wrong. When communicating with Buddhism, we must be face to face and heart to heart. If we are far away, we will become distant."
Ding Weixiang glanced at Zhongli Jing, who said, "It's okay, it's always been like this."
"I'll wait outside the hall. Master, just call me anytime." After Ding Weixiang said this, he swept his cold eyes across the sky, bowed and retreated.
The prayer flags were lowered, separating a separate space behind the main hall. It was spacious and quiet. The roof of the main hall was high, and although the light was dim, it did not make people feel depressing. There was a small square patio in the middle of the roof, which was just right for seeing a crescent moon hanging in the night sky.
Yikong and Zhongli were sitting opposite each other on the couch, with a small table between them. Tea was roasting on the table. The time was just right, so Yikong picked up the pot and poured a cup for each of them.
"Don't worry, sir. Let me have some tea first. I won't be able to drink it once the tea starts."
Zhongli actually accepted the suggestion and took the teacup: "No problem."
Yikong glanced at Zhongli Jing's wrist and discovered the problem.
"Why is there one less bead in your hand?"
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