Chapter 37: Su Ying

Leaving Ciyun Chan Yuan, Qin Yun walked south along the highway, glancing at three devotees performing the "five-prostration" worship, feeling not the slightest surprise. Yet some tourists, seeing this, found it astonishing, even pulling out their phones to film.

Many might not understand this form of worship: shouldn't sincerity alone suffice? Is this ritual unnecessary? Or, put bluntly, what terrible deeds must one have committed to resort to such a form of worship?

Such remarks are everywhere online in today's free era.

Indeed, the two young people taking photos beside Qin Yun were debating whether this behavior was normal. The boy thought it was a personal act, nothing to criticize; the girl thought it excessive—even if there were a Buddha, it wouldn't turn its gaze toward you just because you prostrated more times.

The boy said: "They're not worshipping the Buddha in the temple, but the Buddha within their hearts."

The girl said: "If so, why come to Mount Putuo? Why not do five-prostrations at home? You can rest on the sofa when you're tired."

The boy said: "You're just being difficult. This is Guanyin's sacred ground, closer to the Buddha."

The girl said: "Oh, aren't immortals omnipotent?"

The boy said: "You're just arguing nonsense. Their behavior is mostly a discipline of the will—perhaps they once made a vow, and now they're here to fulfill it."

The girl said: "You say I'm arguing nonsense… you think I'm arguing nonsense now, right?"

The boy said: …………

Qin Yun saw the boy, who had just been earnestly debating, instantly turn into a flustered sycophant, and couldn't help smiling. Then he thought of his past self—and the smile vanished. A sycophant who licks too long ends up with nothing.

His gaze passed over the worshippers, and he continued walking forward.

In truth, this form of worship is merely a ritual to fulfill a wish, unrelated to anything else.

He walked slowly; due to his drastically improved physical condition, mere walking no longer tired him—he remained in an excellent state for long periods.

He walked, paused, searched his field of vision for beautiful scenes he'd once overlooked. He photographed landscapes, people, freezing moments of beauty.

Unconsciously, time flowed through his lens; temple icons quietly appeared on his panel, but Qin Yun paid them no deliberate attention—he slowly immersed himself in this journey.

Someone once said: "Where the heart finds peace, there is my homeland—only joy, no sorrow." Qin Yun now sought this kind of equanimity, this acceptance of whatever comes. He felt he had the system, and thus the capacity to pursue true freedom—but the system could not directly grant him true liberation or boundless ease. At least, he now had the ability to pursue it.

At the temple archway, a monk swept fallen leaves with a broom; beside him stood a lush, ancient camphor tree. Tourists came and went. Qin Yun suddenly felt this scene struck him with profound resonance. Without hesitation, he raised his camera and stepped back one pace.

But the instant he pressed the shutter, his back brushed against something—followed by a cry of "Ouch!" Someone had fallen behind him.

Su Ying rubbed her sore buttocks, grimacing. She felt utterly unlucky—but she knew the man hadn't meant it; no matter how bad her mood, she couldn't lash out randomly.

"Miss, sorry—are you okay?"

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped her right arm, and she was effortlessly lifted off the ground—throughout the process, Su Ying felt as if she were a piece of clothing.

She looked up at him: a tourist with a camera, visiting Mount Putuo, quite handsome, with a touch of Yan Zu and Guo Rong's charm. He was probably older than her, taller, with a good build—wonder if he had a girlfriend…

Instantly, Su Ying snapped back to reality, her face flushing. She stammered: "I'm fine, fine, no problem, handsome, did I hurt you?"

After speaking, Su Ying nearly slapped herself.

"Su Ying, Su Ying, don't freeze up just because you see a handsome man. Get your head straight—the shop's problems aren't solved yet. Do you really have time to flirt?"

Qin Yun blinked, taken aback—he rarely met such polite girls. In such situations, most girls wouldn't curse, and even giving a side-eye was generous.

"I'm fine. I didn't notice anyone behind me while taking the photo—I'm truly sorry."

He instantly recognized the woman before him: the woman in hemp clothes who had devoutly worshipped at Ciyun Chan Yuan. He hadn't expected to see her again at Puji Chan Temple.

"It's nothing."

Su Ying brushed off the dust on her backside and smiled at Qin Yun.

Qin Yun nodded, about to leave—the Puji Chan Temple icon had already lit up, and he'd toured the place. It was time to visit other temples.

"Um… handsome… are you a tourist?"

Qin Yun nodded: "Mm, sort of—I'm also a local."

Su Ying's eyes lit up. She stepped forward two paces: "Handsome, which temple do you think is most efficacious?"

Qin Yun chuckled. Such questions had no answer—"sincerity alone suffices" was the universal reply. He was about to brush her off with that, but then he remembered her devout prayer at Ciyun Chan Yuan, and he stopped himself.

He wondered: could she be facing some unsolvable problem? Otherwise, why come all the way to Mount Putuo to beg invisible deities for help with her troubles?

He thought for a moment, then asked a question he immediately regretted: "Miss, are you in trouble?"

…

"Guo Degang was right—everyone hopes their rivals die. What are they thinking? If I fail, do customers suddenly flock to them? They're worse than me in service and quality—how can they even have the nerve to pull dirty tricks?"

"They'd do something like this? Are they even human? I just made a bit more money than them—do they have to be this jealous? Can't they improve themselves instead of scheming behind my back? It makes me furious!"

"I wish the Bodhisattva would strike them down with lightning—just to relieve my hatred."

Qin Yun's head throbbed. Listening to Su Ying's endless complaints, he felt a swarm of ten thousand flies buzzing in his ears. He had no idea what question had unlocked her meridians—but since leaving Puji Temple, past the Dabao Pagoda Courtyard, Tianhua Chan Courtyard, Baizi Hall… she hadn't stopped once.

She poured out her grievances against competitors nonstop, repeating herself endlessly, driving him to despair.

"Maybe you should drink some water and rest?" Qin Yun couldn't help saying as they neared Fayu Chan Temple on the mountain path.

Su Ying agreed. They sat down on a bench beside the trail.

"You don't need to rush," Qin Yun said after thinking. "As you said, your service and product quality are better than your competitors—that's why you've succeeded. So you should keep your patience, trust your customers."

Su Ying turned to Qin Yun and gave a bitter smile: "You've never run a business. Sometimes public opinion is far more terrifying than facts. No one cares about the truth—when everyone believes you're guilty, people follow the crowd. That's when death is near."

Qin Yun sighed, pointing to the temple's silhouette above: "So you're placing your hope here?"

Su Ying's expression darkened. She said nothing.

Qin Yun didn't know how to comfort her. He sat quietly. Then Su Ying's phone rang.

"Hello…"

"Boss, the public opinion has reversed! It's reversed!"

"What?"

Su Ying shot to her feet, urgently asking: "Explain clearly—what happened?"

"Boss, a net celebrity visited our shop. Her video went viral—and suddenly, all the negative local reviews flipped!"

Hearing the joyful voice on the phone, Su Ying felt the surprise arrive so suddenly.

After hanging up, she looked sharply at Qin Yun: "Did my prayer work?"

Qin Yun's vision went black. He was certain: from now on, Guanyin Bodhisattva would have one of the most devout believers imaginable.

But whether it was coincidence or the Bodhisattva really smoothed things over, it was a good thing either way. Qin Yun offered his congratulations, and after the two of them entered the Fayu Temple, he took the chance to slip away quietly while they went in to pay respects to the Buddha.

The largest temple on Mount Putuo, and the one with the most foot traffic, is the Puji Temple; the other two are the Fayu Chan Temple and the Huiji Chan Temple.

Besides these, Mount Putuo also has many lesser-known small temples. Only after being registered and standardized did these small temples gradually open to the public, but in terms of popularity they simply cannot compare with the three great temples mentioned above.

Qin Yun came down from the back mountain of Fayu Chan Temple, walking and stopping along the way. He glanced at the sky, and after finally checking in at the Hidden Elegance Lecture Hall, he headed down the mountain to look for a guesthouse.

During peak season, rooms at Mount Putuo guesthouses are hard to come by; even now, many guesthouses still cannot meet demand.

He found a guesthouse charging two or three hundred a night. The owner was very enthusiastic, saying that in the evening they could go up to the rooftop terrace — tonight the guesthouse would be holding a party up there.

Qin Yun noted it in his mind, ordered dinner from the owner, and went back to his room for the time being.

When he came out at mealtime, the owner asked for his consent and immediately had the kitchen get started.

The guesthouse dining room had only three round tables and one square table. All three round tables were occupied — presumably families traveling together. He swept a glance over them, and his gaze landed on the woman eating at the square table.

As if sensing something, Su Ying looked up, and a look of pleasant surprise immediately crossed her face.

"Qin Yun, what a coincidence? Tell me — did you deliberately follow me, trying to engineer a chance encounter?"

Qin Yun pressed a hand to his forehead, sat down across from her, and thought to himself that she really was a persistent little shadow.

On the surface, he smiled and said, "I thought you'd take the last ferry back. So you're planning to keep going tomorrow?"

With the psychological pressure gone, Su Ying was much more relaxed: "I'm already here, so tomorrow I'll have a proper look around."

Qin Yun nodded and said nothing more. At that moment the owner brought the dishes out one by one. He had ordered a stir-fried rice cake with swimming crab, salt-and-pepper mantis shrimp, fragrant grilled hairtail, a clear soup of wild mushrooms, plus a pot of rice.

The four dishes made Su Ying's eyes nearly pop out of her head.

The portions at this guesthouse were very generous — the plates were piled high. Su Ying looked at her own seafood noodles in front of her, and instantly felt they had lost all appeal.

"Won't that be too much for one person?" Su Ying asked tentatively.

Qin Yun ladled out a bowl of rice: "How about—"

Before the word "about" had even landed, Su Ying was already cheerfully reaching her chopsticks over: "Thanks, then I won't hold back."

Qin Yun's face was a picture of exasperation.

Ever since his body had become incredibly fit, his appetite had been terrific and his food intake enormous. These four dishes were really nothing to him — paired with a pot of rice, he had polished everything off in under twenty minutes.

By contrast, even though Su Ying had reached in with her chopsticks, it was barely a dent.

After eating and drinking their fill, the two went up to the guesthouse rooftop. The owner had fashioned it into an open activity area; quite a few guests were already up there, and there were even entertainment facilities to play with — arcade machines, a treadmill, badminton.

Qin Yun wandered around and spotted a corner piled with some wood and finished woodcarvings, with a few carving tools beside them. His heart stirred at once.

Apart from the jade carving last time, Qin Yun hadn't touched carving since. Seeing suitable tools here, he figured — since he'd come to Mount Putuo, he might as well carve a little something for his mother, then take it to Puji Temple and have a Chan master there bless it.

Uh… since he's already here, he might as well carve a few more.

Thinking this, Qin Yun sat right down, but soon discovered that the wood here was just what the guesthouse owner had put out for tourists to play with — probably chopped from somewhere nearby.

He remembered that Mount Putuo had quite a few craft shops, where there might be suitable wood to buy.

"Qin Yun, you know how to carve?"

Qin Yun looked up, smiled, neither denying nor confirming.