Chapter 2 Do you want a wife? (Please add to your favorites and vote!)
"You should ask for my Dharma name, not my surname. Have you lost your mind?"
It was that old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak again. Ouyang Rong found him to be quite sharp-tongued.
Ouyang Rong ignored the old Taoist priest and nodded: "Yes, then may I ask the high monk's Dharma name?"
The withered monk lowered his head and said, "I don't know."
"I have long admired you, Master."
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak chuckled, "He said he didn't know. Are you trying to make me laugh, kid?"
Ouyang Rong glanced at him sideways, "Which little cookie are you?"
The old Taoist priest asked curiously, "Biscuits? What are these? Are they measured in pieces?"
Ouyang Rong remained silent and did not respond.
He got up from the ground, left the lotus platform in the center, and went to the darkness where the three old Taoists in crane cloaks were taking shelter from the rain.
Looking down, he saw that his white robe was mostly soaked. Ouyang Rong vaguely remembered seeing this style of Hanfu in a book.
With a round neck and wide sleeves, and a horizontal pleat at the bottom forming a skirt, and pleats at the waist, this old style of upper garment and lower garment was the upper garment of scholars in ancient times, and it seems that only scholars and officials could wear it.
After figuring out how to wear it, he finally took it off and threw it aside. Fortunately, there was a moon-white undergarment inside, but Ouyang Rong was not happy at all.
Wearing this unfamiliar outfit felt heavy and rough against my skin, like wearing a coarse rag from the balcony. It was nothing compared to the soft and comfortable fleece-lined thermal underwear and down jacket he wore.
Strangely enough, although the Confucian robes that replaced them were thin, he didn't feel cold at all, even though he had been tossing and turning in the moonlight for so long and was soaked.
"Even the seasons have changed..."
Ouyang Rong muttered to himself, then shivered twice more. It wasn't that he had caught a cold, but rather that the whole situation and trend he was currently experiencing felt incredibly familiar, as familiar as if he were back home.
In the past, Ouyang Rong would usually just skim through this kind of opening sequence without even lifting his eyelids. The only thing that would make him slightly concerned in the first two chapters was whether the male lead was half as handsome as him.
Like the three others, Ouyang Rong and the old Taoist in the crane cloak found a dry spot in the darkness, sat down cross-legged, and then took off the boot on his right foot.
He'd wanted to do this for a while. His right tabi sock had a hole in it, and ever since he climbed the rope, his big toe had been sticking out of it and wouldn't go back in... It was driving his OCD crazy.
After turning the footwear inside out, put the boots back on.
He stared at the curtain of rain hanging down in the center of the underground palace.
He gave his right cheek a good rub.
It seems that if it really is a rebirth, then this is a random... ancient world with high martial arts? This underground palace rebirth point seems to be safe for now, but there are some mythical powers outside that he can't understand, and it seems that some kind of terrifying power has the upper hand, forcing people to come to this so-called pure land.
As for whether it's a soul transfer or a body transfer... the face is still the same face, it looks like it's a body transfer, but that's not necessarily true. What if it's the same person from a parallel universe, just with different circumstances? That's also possible.
Now there's only one question left—his identity in this world.
Ouyang Rong raised his hand and touched the gauze on his forehead. The throbbing pain after pressing with his fingertips and the wet, sticky feeling indicated that the wound was located one and a half inches above his right eyebrow, about two fingers wide and long.
He glanced at the stone lotus pedestal in the center of the underground palace.
Ouyang Rong pointed to the wound on his head and asked softly, "Excuse me, who saved me?"
"How do you know we saved you?" the old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak asked again.
The three people in the underground palace were a gaunt monk who always bowed his head and chanted scriptures, giving Ouyang Rong the feeling that he was unfathomable. The slender girl, whether she was too cold or too shy, did not say a word.
Judging from this, only this old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak and fur coat, who is a bit talkative, is someone I can strike up a conversation with.
Ouyang Rong slumped his shoulders. "I fell from up there. When I woke up, I was lying on my back, but I had an injury on my forehead. If you didn't save me, who did? It couldn't have been there before I fell, could it?"
"You do have some brains... Hmm, your guess is pretty accurate." The old Taoist in the crane-cloak laughed. "But don't thank me or that bald idiot, go thank her. It was this girl who saved you."
Ouyang Rong was a little surprised. Looking at the slender girl on his right, he realized that she was a cold-faced but warm-hearted person.
Following the similar word order of the old Taoist priest in his crane-cloak, he also organized his words and awkwardly clasped his hands in greeting:
"Thank you... for your help, young lady."
The slender young woman merely nodded slightly, seemingly sparing with her words.
Ouyang Rong listened intently for a while, and then... felt slightly awkward.
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Hahahaha..."
"What's so funny?"
"She's mute, and you're still waiting for her to speak? Hahahaha..."
Ouyang Rong was taken aback and couldn't help but glance at the slender girl a few more times.
Amid the old Taoist's laughter, the latter, who was hugging his knees, trembled slightly and lowered his head even further.
Ouyang Rong shook his head, "All living beings suffer, don't laugh at them."
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak chuckled, "Which eye of yours saw that I was mocking you? I'm laughing because this place is just too interesting, hahaha."
"This sacred earth palace has brought together the four of us. This is a bald, eccentric monk, this is a mute, idiotic girl, you are a bookworm and a fool, and I, well, am also a shameful creature covered in sores. The four of us together, hahaha, this is so interesting."
Ouyang Rong glanced at the old Taoist in the crane cloak and his neck. The latter was laughing so hard that his neck, which had been tucked into the black crane cloak, revealed some festering sores.
Strangely, this old Taoist priest, covered in sores, had the appearance and complexion of a young man. If it weren't for his white hair and hunched back, he would have been no different from a young man.
He truly has white hair and a youthful face.
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak suddenly asked, "Hey kid, do you want a wife?"
Ouyang Rong thought for a moment, "Taoists don't lie."
"Just tell me if you want it or not."
His body nodded in agreement, but he said aloud, "Master, oh, how could I possibly accept this..."
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak laughed heartily, pointing to the slender, mute girl.
"Then let's go with this girl. Anyway, you can't get out of here. You two, one a bookworm and the other a mute, are a perfect match. You'd be a pair of lovebirds in distress, hahaha. What do you think, little girl? If you don't say anything within three breaths, I'll take that as your agreement... Alright, let's get married now. Before dawn, you two should hurry up and have your wedding ceremony."
Ouyang Rong silently observed the old man, Le Zi, without saying a word.
The slender, mute girl remained motionless, seemingly ignoring the situation.
The old Taoist priest in the crane cloak chuckled for a while, but when he realized no one was paying attention to him, he wasn't embarrassed. He simply adjusted his cloak with a natural expression.
"Hmph, your kindness wasted. Don't regret it later."
Ouyang Rong didn't reply.
The rain outside had stopped sometime earlier, and after the dark clouds dispersed, the moon set and the stars shone, making the whole world much darker.
This night scene was familiar to Ouyang Rong, who often got up early to recite his lessons on the rooftop; it was almost dawn.
He glanced again at the well-like opening at the top center of the underground palace and murmured, "Is this really a pure land?"
"How could this be fake? Don't you believe 'Master Ignorance' again?" The old Taoist in the crane-cloak smiled.
The person sighed, then whispered a regret: "I should have known better than to look at that kind of thing in a sacred Buddhist place."
"What are you looking at?" The old Taoist seemed very interested in him, watching him intently from beginning to end.
Indeed, since the master was muttering scriptures to himself and the little mute girl couldn't speak, only the two of them could have a somewhat normal conversation.
"Things that deduct from one's merits."
"You intellectuals still believe in this?"
"I didn't believe it at first, but now I'm half-believing."
"Only half-believes?"
"Because my past education doesn't allow me to believe everything."
"You may be a bookworm, but you do have an interesting way of speaking."
Ouyang Rong suddenly turned his head, "How do you know I'm a bookworm? Are there other scholars outside? Do you know me?"
"I don't recognize you." The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak curled his lip. "But your clothes, aren't they just like those 'sage' teachings'? You even speak in such a secretive way, so unspeakable!"
"Is there anything outside...?"
"Forget about what's outside. Wasn't that flood enough to make you give up? Just stay put. We've finally found a peaceful place. Hahaha, I need to rest a bit too."
"If this is a pure land... why are only the four of us here? Where are the others?"
"Because you're lucky, everyone else is suffering out there." The old Taoist waved his hand impatiently. "Also, you scholars shouldn't always think about becoming saints to save the world."
"Are there saints in this world?" Ouyang Rong asked curiously.
"Yes, there is." The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak gestured with his lips. "Aren't you one? You have the power of a sage but the mind of a sage."
Ouyang Rong shook his head, "I am not a saint, nor do I have the heart of a saint."
"That would be best. Besides, what kind of saints are they? They're clearly not great thieves."
The old Taoist priest sneered, pointing his index finger outside: "All these natural and man-made disasters were ultimately caused by those self-proclaimed disciples of sages. As long as there are sages in the world, there will be great thieves who steal the names and artifacts of sages. So what's the difference between a sage and a great thief? It's just that one is unintentional and the other is intentional, both are the source of chaos. Sages and great thieves both deserve to die! Sages deserve to die the most!"
Ouyang Rong glanced at him and said, "You mean the Taoist saying 'If sages don't die, thieves won't stop'? I studied that in my major... I know it by heart."
"Oh? You study this in your studies?" The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak was somewhat surprised.
Ouyang Rong hesitated for a moment, then said tactfully, "To be precise, I've studied a little bit of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, and I understand a little bit of everything." Damn it, how could he not be proficient in his major courses? He was just joking around when he was preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam.
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak raised an eyebrow, couldn't help but glance at him again, and suddenly asked, "What is the first principle of the Holy Truth?"
Ouyang Rong randomly picked a short answer, "Vast and without sages."
This is a Buddhist question, asking what the highest truth of Buddhism is; Ouyang Rong's answer is that it is emptiness, there is no sacredness.
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak remained silent for a while, unusually putting aside his frivolousness.
After chewing for a while with her head down, she glanced at him and said, "This is more than just a little bit."
Ouyang Rong sighed, "That's why I need to go back even more."
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak sneered, "Still saying there's no saint in the vast expanse. Now you want to go up and save the common people again."
Ouyang Rong did not explain that his "go back" and the old Taoist's "go up" were not entirely the same thing.
Feeling that his strength had almost recovered, Ouyang Rong stood up, supporting himself with his palms, and walked towards the central lotus seat again.
This was the first time in his life he had prepared for something so seriously, pouring all his time and energy into it. But just as he was about to welcome it, fate suddenly told him:
it's over……
It's all over.
Ouyang Rong disagreed.
"I will not save the common people, I will... save myself."
He answered softly, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself.
The old Taoist priest in the crane-cloak shook his head, said no more, closed his eyes, and leaned against the wall.
Noticing the commotion, the master paused his chanting and, with a compassionate expression, advised, "Benefactor, this place is the Pure Land of Lotus Flowers, and above lies the Avici Hell..."
The old Taoist closed his eyes and said, "Don't waste your breath. He is a saint, and his realm is different from ours."
“Sage!” The master seemed to remember something, and lowered his head to whisper: “The sage is dead, the Taoist patriarch is dead, even the Buddha… is dead. Why are there still people who are so deluded that they go to die?”
The monk chanted a prayer, clasped his hands, and continued reciting the scriptures:
"Thus have I heard. Now there are suffering beings who have fallen into hell. There are bull-headed jailers and horse-headed demons, holding spears and lances, who drive them into the city gates and into the Avici Hell. They are made into animals and ghosts, into pus and blood, into ash and miasma, into flying sand that shatters their bodies, into lightning and hail that destroys their souls, into blooming and rotting mountains of flesh with hundreds of thousands of eyes, and countless beings devouring them..."
Ouyang Rong walked past as if he hadn't heard anything, but as he passed the slender mute girl, she suddenly reached out and 'stopped' him.
Looking down, he saw that the girl who had been hugging her knees and burying her face in her hands was handing him a sheepskin water bag.
He licked his dry lips, took the hand, and discovered that her right hand only had four fingers.
Ouyang Rong tilted his head back, took a sip without touching his mouth, and then returned the water.
"Thanks."
The mute girl withdrew her hand, which was missing a little finger, and did not stop her anymore.
He walked past her and only then did he notice that she had been sitting on a straight, long strip of wood. The strip was like a sword.
Ouyang Rong picked up the lotus-shaped golden lamp that had been smashed in half on the ground. Fortunately, the rope was still tightly tied to the lamp base, so it was still usable.
It's the same place, the same way.
This time, perhaps because he was familiar with the process, or perhaps because he was lucky, Ouyang Rong, standing on the lotus pedestal, successfully threw the half-lotus lantern out of the cave on only his fifth attempt.
It tightly wrapped around a fixed heavy object outside.
Undeterred, the man began to climb, this time focusing intently and carefully watching for any movement outside.
finally.
Once again, I safely climbed to a position near the exit.
Ouyang Rong discovered that the exit did indeed resemble a well, as there was a cylindrical passage about one meter long that connected to the ceiling of the square underground palace below.
Ouyang Rong observed for a while before preparing to enter the final section of the passageway.
Just then, a wild beast's roar suddenly came from outside the well. The roar was neither human nor beast, and Ouyang Rong had never heard it before. What made him even more desperate was that the rope he was tightly holding began to sway without any wind—something was tearing at the rope, and it was about to break!
At the critical moment, Ouyang Rong's body, like a bent, powerful bow, suddenly pulled upwards and leaped up, throwing the rope in mid-air and grabbing the edge of the well with both hands. The broken rope fell back into the underground palace beside him.
Ouyang Rong was hanging there alone, his chest heaving violently like a bellows, while the unknown evil outside made him dare not breathe heavily, so he could only suppress his breathing.
He breathed rapidly in small, shallow breaths, and his trembling fingers, gripping the edge of the well, could clearly feel the roughness of the rocks and the slippery texture of blood mixed with morning dew.
His palms were bleeding, but he remained motionless, as if still processing the series of sudden changes that had occurred just moments before.
Below, the Master, the old Taoist in the crane-cloak, and the mute girl with the severed finger all looked up at him from afar.
Ouyang Rong looked down.
The master shook his head at him, saying, "Namo Amitabha Buddha."
The old Taoist priest, dressed in a crane-cloak, closed his eyes and chanted for the first time tonight: "May the Heavenly Venerable bestow boundless blessings upon you, whose merits are beyond comprehension."
The mute girl stood up and let out a soft "ah," though it was unclear what she wanted to say; her eyes held a hint of reluctance.
Ouyang Rong pulled up his mud-stained lips and smiled at them.
He really wanted to go home.
Even if it's a cruel joke by God that he's been reborn, he still wants to climb up and see for himself.
Even if it were truly the deepest hell, Ouyang Rong would still need to take a look before he could completely give up on the idea.
Ouyang Rong looked up at the sky, which was only the size of a well opening. It was already light. He was hungry and tired, but he used all the strength he had for that last pull-up bar on his final physical fitness test...
It's been climbed out.
...
The dry well stands quietly in front of a peach grove, surrounded by a stone fence.
Ouyang Rong, who was slumped beside the well, was stunned.
What comes into view is a Zen temple with green tiles and red walls. In the distance, among the lush green bamboo forest, you can occasionally see a glimpse of a bell tower with upturned eaves, where a monk yawns and slowly strikes the morning bell.
Meanwhile, to the east, a red sun is slowly rising from the eastward-flowing river, meeting the gaze of all living beings that dare to look directly at it.
“This…” His slightly sunken eye sockets were warmed by the sunlight as he gently inhaled the sandalwood fragrance unique to the ancient temple deep in the mountains.
Just as the deep, resonant sound of the bell echoed through the mountains and forests, a group of monks suddenly burst open the half-closed courtyard gate, nimbly vaulted over the stone fence, and hurriedly rushed to Ouyang Rong, gathering him up in delight.
"Magistrate, Magistrate, you're here! What brings you to the Beitian Almshouse!"
"Your Excellency, we've been looking for you for ages! Where did you go last night? We searched all night, and the head constable and the officer in charge of looking after you, Little Swallow, were almost frantic with worry! They were even preparing to go down the mountain this morning to inform the yamen and send people to search the mountain!"
"Amitabha! What a blessing! Sir, if we had found you any later, Officer Yan would have taken all our heads. Is your head injury alright? Oh, where are your clothes...?"
A group of monks bombarded Ouyang Rong with questions, leaving him completely bewildered. He stared blankly at the bald heads swaying back and forth, his eyes glazed over.
"Alright, alright, stop shouting. The magistrate's injury... has just healed. Don't all crowd around him, let him get some air." Finally, a young novice monk, who seemed to be the leader, stepped forward and pushed the crowd apart.
The young novice monk was about ten years old, with delicate features and a shiny forehead that was almost blindingly bright when he came close to Ouyang Rong to examine him.
The young novice waved his hand in front of Ouyang Rong's eyes, then took his pulse with a profound expression. After all that fuss, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He couldn't help but mutter, "I never thought my master's medical skills could be reliable. He managed to wake me up after I'd been unconscious for so many days... Cough cough, Magistrate, when did you wake up, and why did you leave the courtyard alone in the middle of the night?"
"You...you...I...I'm not." Ouyang Rong stammered, touching the wound on his forehead, unsure how to begin.
Finally, he realized what was happening and hurriedly pointed to the dry well behind him, saying, "Down there, the people down there..."
The young novice was taken aback. He and his fellow disciples exchanged bewildered glances, and he frowned as he asked, "Magistrate, did you fall into this...this Pure Land Palace last night?"
Ouyang Rong nodded, opened his mouth as if to speak, but then hesitated, unsure how to ask, "Is this place truly a pure land?"
"That's his name."
Seeing his confused expression, the young novice monk seemed to realize something and pointed to the dry well to explain:
“Your Excellency, this Pure Land Palace used to be the place where our Donglin Temple enshrined relics. It was built during the reign of Emperor Taizong of the previous dynasty by imperial decree…” As if he had mentioned something taboo, the young novice immediately changed his words, “It was built during the reign of Emperor Taizong of the previous dynasty by the previous abbot of the temple by imperial decree. At that time, it was fashionable for Buddhist temples all over the country to build pagodas, construct underground palaces, and welcome Buddha relics. However, later the lotus pagoda on top collapsed due to water damage, and this Pure Land Palace was abandoned… As for the people inside now…”
The young novice monk walked to the well and shouted directly into it, "Hey, Brother Xiuzhen! It's time for breakfast!"
Soon, the familiar voice of Master Bu Zhi came from below:
"Why are you outside? Come down quickly! This place is the Pure Land of Lotus, and above is the Avici Hell!"
Ouyang Rong was speechless.
The young novice monk turned his head and sighed: "Brother Xiuzhen has been crazy for many years. He used to be quite good, but later he always said that we were evil creatures who wanted to eat him. He also kept looking for dog holes and bed boards to crawl into, saying that he wanted to find a Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss... The Compassionate Temple couldn't keep him, so we had to use a rope to lower him down and send him some vegetarian meals every day. He also likes to stay down there."
Ouyang Rong frowned, looked down at his hands which were chafed raw by the rope, and couldn't help but ask, "Then, there are two more people down there..."
"Ah, there are two more down there?" The young novice was taken aback, then nodded. "Oh, they must be the patients and beggars taken in by the Beitian Aid Home." He looked around. "The dry well is right behind the Beitian Aid Home. It seems that the senior brother in charge of the home was negligent again yesterday, letting the patients and beggars run away and fall in."
“Beitian Nursing Home?” Ouyang Rong was stunned, recalling the mute girl with a missing finger and the old Taoist priest covered in sores below.
The young novice monk, seeing that Ouyang Rong seemed a bit emotionally unstable, cautiously said, "Yes, speaking of which, the Beitian Aid Home has been able to keep operating thanks to the compassion of you, County Magistrate. The county government provides subsidies every year, and we are responsible for taking in some of the sick, elderly, and disabled people in the county. County Magistrate, they didn't frighten you last night, did they?"
Ouyang Rong lowered his head and remained silent.
Seeing him deep in thought, the young novice monk became a little timid.
Perhaps it was the natural awe that commoners of this era had for those with official positions, which they all attributed to a kind of official authority. In reality, Ouyang Rong knew there was no such thing as official authority; it was merely the Donglin Temple under the jurisdiction of this county. If all life and death were in the hands of others, one would naturally be constantly wary of their expressions and moods.
Just then, the sharp-eyed novice monk suddenly spotted a dirty beggar lying on all fours in the bamboo grove not far away, tearing and biting things haphazardly, looking like he was in a bad mental state.
He quickly winked at his fellow monks, who then sent several monks to rush off and escort the person back to the charitable institution.
The person who remained silent and looked down observed most of the subtle movements happening around him and the various expressions of the monks.
He wasn't terrified by these ups and downs, but... after these absurd reasons cleared up the absurd misunderstandings, a brand new, almost certain reality was presented to him, and he was somewhat... even more disappointed.
Ouyang Rong suddenly felt a little dizzy, but he still managed to stand up and patiently said a few words to them: "I'm fine, I wasn't scared. Thank you for explaining so much. By the way, I haven't asked who you are yet..."
The young novice monk immediately stood at attention, breathed a sigh of relief, and said with a smile, "My Buddhist name is Xiufa, you can just call me that, sir."
Ouyang Rong glanced at her shiny bald head and nodded. "Okay, Xiufa. No need to help me, I can manage... But I have another question."
"Please speak freely, Your Excellency!"
"Last night, did you hear that heavy rain and flooding? What was that noise all about!"
The young monk with flowing hair and his companions, who had been laughing and joking just a moment ago, suddenly fell silent.
Ouyang Rong felt increasingly dizzy. She grabbed the small shoulder with her hair and said in a weak but undeniable voice, "You tell me."
Seeing that his companions were also staring at him, the young monk with the long hair had no choice but to steel himself and point south, whispering:
"My lord, as a newly appointed official, you should know that the fields in Jiangzhou are inferior to those in the rest of the country; the fields in Longcheng are even inferior to those in Jiangzhou; and among the many marshes, Yunmeng is the best, with the ancient Yunmeng Marsh right next to our Longcheng County..."
"It's currently the plum rain season, and the water level of Yunmengze is rising rapidly. Last night... the Digong Sluice Gate, which was supposed to hold back the water, collapsed, causing a flash flood... Now, not only our Longcheng County, but all the counties in Jiangzhou are flooded."
Upon hearing the familiar yet unfamiliar names like "Yunmengze," "Digongzha," and "Longcheng County," Ouyang Rong's already dizzy head began to ache violently, as if in response to some kind of stress reaction.
It was as if someone had shoved a water pipe into his head, and the faucet connected to the other end had been turned up to its maximum speed.
Ouyang Rong pushed the crowd aside and stumbled out of the Beitian Courtyard. He came to a spacious spot with a good view and looked south down the mountain. As far as he could see, there were collapsed houses, flooded fields, and women and children crying in despair...
As far as the eye could see, there was a vast expanse of water.
For some reason, upon witnessing this scene, a line of poetry suddenly popped into Ouyang Rong's mind, as if it had been implanted into his brain out of thin air:
Everywhere was filled with sorrow and bloodshed, all for the sake of saving the common people.
This slightly childish style was nothing like his self-centered "old fun guy" persona, but rather... the memories and thoughts of the "original body" of a righteous gentleman began to gush forth along with the headache.
"Good heavens, my dead memories are starting to attack me... Wait, I remember now, I was the new magistrate of Longcheng, and on my first day in office, I publicly announced that I would cure the floods, and then... I immediately fell into the water and drowned... What an unlucky guy, why did he have to set such a flag?"
Before losing consciousness, the last thing Ouyang Rong heard was Xiu Fa and the others' urgent shouts...
He suddenly felt that perhaps staying in that pure land below wouldn't be so bad.
...
A new year, a new beginning, a new story, a new fencing! (bows up)
(End of this chapter)
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