Chapter 78

“It’s him, it’s him!”

Qiao Yingzi happily trained the telescope on the direction of the long howl.

“Silly girl, you can’t see anything from here! How do you know who it is?” Qiao Weidong watched his daughter like this, his heart souring.

“Choosing a secluded abode suits my wild nature; all year long, no one sends, no one greets. Sometimes I climb straight to the lone peak’s summit, and under the moon, I pierce the clouds with one howl!” Qiao Yingzi’s opening line left Qiao Weidong, already sour, speechless.

One moment of silence and she starts reciting a set piece poem—this is clearly He Chen’s style. Could my foolish daughter have taken Fang Yifan’s medicine and ended up under He Chen’s spell instead?

“This is the next verse after ‘The body takes the shape of a crane’—both are lines from the two poems dedicated to the hermit monk Weiyan at Yaoshan!” Qiao Yingzi sensed her father’s odd expression and gaze, and hurriedly explained why she’d recited this poem.

Precisely because she knew He Chen valued ritual and insisted on authenticity, she had the confidence to “accidentally meet” him at Yaoshan.

And sure enough, though she hadn’t found him among the countless pines that afternoon, that single moonlit howl at night had directly exposed his mountain’s location.

Tomorrow, go straight to that peak—she’d definitely “accidentally meet” He Chen.

Just thinking of it made her heart race; she longed to rush there under starlight and moonlight.

Qiao Weidong stared at his daughter, numb with disbelief. Fortunately, it was late at night—Qiao Yingzi couldn’t see, and wouldn’t dare look at his face, so he didn’t need to control his expression or hide the darkening of his features, lest he ruin her cheerful, carefree mood.

After the long howl ended, all sound vanished—just as the verse said: “pierce the clouds with one howl,” and only one.

The next morning.

Qiao Yingzi woke her father, who’d barely slept, grabbed her camera, and hurried off toward the mountain peak from last night, eager as ever.

Though reluctant, Qiao Weidong could only shuffle after her with his old limbs—he feared that if he hesitated to advise her, his precious daughter would happily let him rest while she went alone to “accidentally meet” He Chen.

The father and daughter began their climb to visit the “hermit monk.”

Even though they’d confirmed the peak, by mid-morning they’d still not found He Chen; Qiao Weidong nearly collapsed from exhaustion, finally spotting his campsite.

“You really know how to pick a spot!”

As he followed his daughter in adjusting her breath and found He Chen leisurely practicing amid the pine forest, he watched his daughter, unable to control herself, snap rapid photos like a thief—and remembered how He Chen had nearly worn him out—his temper flared.

“Uncle Qiao, you’re here too.” He Chen kept practicing, only offering a casual greeting.

“Yeah, came to see this enlightened hermit,” Qiao Weidong said, half-teasing He Chen, half-warning his daughter, who was waving awkwardly: “Say, you’re so young—have you really seen through the world’s illusions? Are you really going to become a monk?”

“What’s wrong with becoming a monk?” He Chen didn’t look at Qiao Weidong’s face—he already guessed his thoughts—and smiled back: “Modern urbanites face greater stress every day. How many burn incense and pray? How many long to retreat into the mountains and cultivate? And these people keep growing—clearly, becoming a monk isn’t bad at all.”

“Yingzi, why are you nodding?” Qiao Weidong knew the trend, but seeing He Chen casually joke while practicing, and his precious daughter nodding earnestly with that “Master, I’ve awakened!” expression—he couldn’t hold back.

He didn’t support or oppose He Chen becoming a monk, but if his only daughter got that idea—he wouldn’t allow it.

“Dad—!” Qiao Yingzi had only nodded instinctively; caught by her father, her face flushed red.

“Don’t listen to his heretical nonsense!” Qiao Weidong didn’t care about saving face—he warned urgently: “If your heart is right, you don’t need to become a monk to cultivate!”

“Uncle Qiao, that’s profound!” He Chen smiled in praise: “In the Yongzheng Dynasty, Emperor Yongzheng, a Buddhist, went to a temple and someone flattered him, saying he was a living Buddha who didn’t need to worship past Buddhas!”

It was flattery, yes—but the sentiment was sound.

Not becoming a monk, but serving the nation and people—that’s true wisdom, true awakening. Only then can one become a truly great compassionate Buddha!

And even the supreme ancestor of all Buddhas!

Uncle Qiao could become a Buddha.

Yingzi could too.

Everyone could.

“Stop talking nonsense! If you want to be a monk, don’t drag us into it!” Qiao Weidong scoffed: “Yingzi, don’t believe his rubbish!”

“Uncle Qiao, I’m not talking nonsense!” He Chen laughed: “There are hundreds of millions of monks and nuns today, and tens of millions more overseas. Tell me—has history ever seen such a phenomenon?”

And these aren’t ignorant ‘common folk’—they’re educated, knowledgeable people.

What does that prove?

Becoming a monk is the inevitable trend!

Everyone has awakened!”

He truly didn’t see anything wrong with becoming a monk.

Not to mention, in modern times, being a monk is just a profession—it doesn’t affect marriage or having children, and the Menkan is high; not just anyone can become one.

Look at ancient times.

Why did monks abstain from sex? Because of the legend of the “most lustful”—extreme repression leads to extreme explosion.

Just like today’s hundreds of millions of monks and nuns, each with wildly rich theoretical knowledge.

He Chen and Qiao Weidong chatted in the mountains, Qiao Weidong constantly calling his ideas heretical nonsense, while Qiao Yingzi watched, smiling, occasionally sneaking photos with her camera—the atmosphere made her feel unusually relaxed and comfortable, convinced the trip had been worth it.

But with her father beside her, though she had many things she wanted to say, she couldn’t speak them—so she simply stayed for lunch at He Chen’s.

In the afternoon, she begged and pleaded for her father to rent a tent and camp overnight so she could stargaze with He Chen—but Qiao Weidong firmly refused.

Are you kidding?

This is a remote wilderness—boy and girl sleeping so close? It’s even more dangerous than living in adjacent apartments!

Even with her father right there—it still wouldn’t be acceptable!

Fortunately, He Chen also refused, and offered a solution: Qiao Yingzi could return to the hotel, call him on the phone, and stargaze together from two separate places.

Qiao Weidong reluctantly accepted.

After returning, exhausted from a full day—or rather, two days—he was utterly drained. Even if he wanted to stargaze with his daughter, he simply couldn’t—he went to bed first.

Qiao Yingzi stood alone by the window, occasionally glancing far off at He Chen’s mountain peak, listening to his stargazing insights through the phone—she felt everything was so beautiful, and suddenly wanted to imitate He Chen’s moonlit howl.

But when she opened her mouth, she remembered she was in a hotel, surrounded by people—howling loudly at night would disturb them—so she held back, left with a quiet sense of loss.

Though she longed to imitate him, she simply couldn’t—bound by these constraints, she could never become like He Chen.

At the appointed time, He Chen went to sleep as scheduled.

Another night passed.

The third day of National Day arrived in a blink.

Qiao Yingzi still wanted to return with He Chen, but her father cut her off sharply: “Are you trying to kill yourself? Your mom’s nearly gone mad—she’ll definitely come to the airport to pick you up. If she sees He Chen with us, she’ll lose it completely.”

Qiao Yingzi realized he was right. The genuine joy she’d felt from these two days of vacation vanished instantly. Thinking of her mother’s attitude, her heart grew heavy—she couldn’t smile anymore.

Qiao Weidong watched his daughter, heart aching. He thought of his ex-wife, Song Qian—what a torment she’d caused. Look what she’d done to their daughter—just thinking of her mother made her suppress everything.

At the airport, Song Qian was indeed there to meet them—and as expected, she unleashed a torrent of accusations and insults. Remembering how his daughter’s face had instantly lost all joy, Qiao Weidong snapped—he once again launched a furious counterattack against his ex-wife.

This sent Song Qian into a rage, nearly coming to blows; amid Qiao Yingzi’s outburst, the scene ended with Qiao Weidong leaving first.