Chapter 233

"Xiaoci Temple?"

Xu Qing looked at the temple before him, his gaze heavy and focused.

Memories returned, and time went back to the day before he arrived at Xiaoci Temple.

On the outskirts of Quyang Commandery, a person and a cat traveled together.

On both sides of the country road were countless fertile fields. In the late autumn, the newly sprouted wheat seedlings formed a stretch of green; if a breeze blew, the tender green ripples would sway layer upon layer across the vast fields.

At this time, Xuanyu had turned back into a cat, but when she did, she also returned to her lively and active nature.

For instance, she would run into the wheat waves to hide, arriving ahead of time. When Xu Qing came leading the horse, she would twist her waist, gather her strength, and suddenly leap out from the wheat, scaring the tall horse into jumping and dodging to the side.

Besides this, the cat would occasionally bat at pebbles on the roadside with her paws or chase after flying insects in the wheat fields.

Who could have imagined that such a lively cat was actually a monster?

After passing through more than ten miles of fields, Xu Qing finally arrived in the township.

The town before him had a pleasant name: Shuiyue Township.

Shuiyue Township was originally a fertile land in Dazhu, with numerous streams and rivers. Even in years of drought, it could rely on its geographical advantages to ensure a bountiful harvest.

Based on the description in the gazetteer, Xu Qing subconsciously felt this township must be a wealthy place.

However, when he truly stepped into the township, he found the entire place in a state of utter poverty and disaster.

Dilapidated houses, villagers in rags, and even the children, who should have been in their lively years, had dull and lifeless eyes...

Xu Qing looked down at the gazetteer's description, which was full of flowery language about it being "fertile and wealthy."

Then he looked up at the impoverished villagers before him and saw only hunger and cold.

Xu Qing found it inconceivable. He had set out from Qianzhou City and traveled over three hundred miles to Quyang. He had seen and heard much along the way, yet he had never heard that this year's harvest was poor. Why, then, were there so many people starving?

And in a place like Shuiyue Township, no less?

Xu Qing asked the villagers, but no one was willing to answer, or perhaps they were already too numb to waste energy on an outsider like him.

"This township is truly strange."

Xu Qing was not discouraged. He walked along the village road, occasionally asking villagers for information.

When he arrived at the entrance of a village household, Xu Qing stopped.

Outside the firewood gate, white mourning cloth was hung, and if one listened carefully, one could hear sorrowful weeping.

Xu Qing pushed the firewood gate; it was not latched.

Entering the courtyard, he could see an old person and a young person in the old main room, wiping the body of a male corpse.

When they saw Xu Qing walk into the dilapidated courtyard, both were clearly stunned.

Stopping their wiping, the old person tremblingly came to the threshold and asked Xu Qing if there was something he needed.

Xu Qing told the truth, stating that he was a funeral professional who specialized in feng shui, preparing bodies, and conducting burials.

The old person immediately understood: this was a traveling master looking for business!

"My family has nothing; we have no valuables, and we don't even have a decent meal to offer. It's best not to trouble you, sir."

Xu Qing shook his head and said, "It is said that one should do a good deed every day. Since I happened to pass by and saw you setting up a mourning hall, this is fate between us. I will not take your money, nor do I need you to feed me; consider it a connection between me and the deceased."

As he spoke, Xu Qing stepped into the mourning hall. It was barely a hall—just a straw mat and a few wild vegetable cakes serving as offerings. Beyond that, there wasn't even a candle or a coffin.

The old person did not stop him again. Looking closely, Xu Qing realized that the person who had died was the family's pillar of support, in the prime of his life.

The remaining two were old, weak, and sick. The youngest looked no more than ten, his thin shoulders unable to bear the burden of this family.

Looking at the deceased, he was in his thirties, his face covered in bruises, his nose broken, his body full of contusions, and even several ribs were fractured.

He had been beaten to death!

Xu Qing had not yet performed the transcendence ritual, but he already saw the cause of death.

The back of the deceased's head had suffered a severe blow from a blunt object, clearly intended to kill with a single strike.

As Xu Qing chanted the scriptures to transcend the soul, he looked at the deceased's "revolving lantern" of memories.

The first half of the deceased's life was mediocre and dull, spent farming for landlords to earn some commission or taking a share of the grain to maintain a living.

Five years ago, three months of continuous heavy rain caused the Qianjiang River to burst its banks, flooding most of the counties in Qianzhou, and Shuiyue Township in Quyang Commandery was among them!

Shuiyue Township had ten thousand acres of fields, more than half of which belonged to Cizhao Temple.

Cizhao Temple was dozens of miles away from Shuiyue Township. To facilitate the management of this fertile land, the temple dispatched monks to build a small temple outside the township, named Xiaoci Temple.

In the twenty years since Xiaoci Temple was built, how many ten thousand acres of land had it seized?

Not to mention Shuiyue Township, even the fields in surrounding townships had mostly been seized by Xiaoci Temple through various means.

And the villagers, in order to have enough to eat to survive, could only become tenant farmers, begging for a living under these monks.

Five years ago, when the Qianjiang River flooded and the harvest failed, the managing monk in the temple flew into a rage and raised the rent from thirty percent to fifty percent, claiming that since the yield had halved, the temple had suffered huge losses, and it must be because the farmers hadn't worked hard enough—they had to pay!

The tenant farmers swallowed their grievances, thinking that perhaps things would be better next year.

As it turned out, the second year saw four consecutive months of rain.

That year, the rent rose to seventy percent.

The farmers thought, "Once, twice, but not a third time. It's been flooded for two years; surely our good days will come next year!"

However, in the third year, the entire province suffered a severe drought!

Shuiyue Township, known for its fertile soil and never-ending water supply, was left with only one source of water outside the township.

That year, Xiaoci Temple invited a Zen master from Cizhao Temple to set up an altar and perform rituals. The master claimed that the farmers lacked virtue and carried karmic debts from their past lives, which was why Heaven had sent punishment. Now, with him chanting scriptures and using his great magic power to accumulate virtue for them, the township would surely have favorable weather in the future.

The farmers believed him, sold everything they had, and scraped together the full rent, praying that one day they would be forgiven by the Buddha and no longer worry about food.

But could things really go as these farmers wished?

This year, Qianzhou had perfect weather and full granaries, but the grain the farmers harvested was all taken away by the monks. Furthermore, the rent had risen to one hundred and twenty percent!

In other words, the farmers not only didn't get a single grain of food, but they also had to pay to farm the land and give money to the temple.

Where in this world was there such logic?

Some farmers went to the government office to complain, but after checking the ledgers, the officials declared that the temple was not at fault and that the "Buddha fields" indeed had debts that needed to be repaid.

To comfort the farmers, the officials said that the great masters in the temple were compassionate to give them land to farm, and it was their own fault for not managing it well, leading to a shortfall. It wasn't the temple's fault; rather, it was their own lack of virtue.

How prosperous was Cizhao Temple's incense? It was the largest landlord in Quyang Commandery, and the government office relied on them to survive. The seven or eight concubines kept by the Prefect, the delicacies they ate, and the silver collected by officials from each county every year—all of that came from burning incense and worshipping the Buddha. And what did you tenant farmers have?

The Prefect reasoned with them and, using the farmers' complaint as an excuse, went to Cizhao Temple to worship the Buddha and Bodhisattvas. When he returned, his entire sedan chair was shining with gold, as if plated with Buddha's light. After this, the great monks became even more "benevolent," occasionally distributing old, moldy grain mixed with husks and chaff to ensure the farmers maintained a "balanced diet" and didn't starve to death.

And every first and fifteenth day of the lunar month, they would hold release-of-life ceremonies to preach Buddhist teachings to these farmers.

Cizhao Temple thus became famous throughout the province. Such compassionate monks who frequently performed charitable deeds were surely high-virtue monks; it was no wonder their incense was so prosperous.

Xu Qing continued to watch. A year ago, when the farmer's family lacked food and was struggling to survive, he went to Xiaoci Temple to find the manager and ask to borrow some food to sustain them.

He was received by Monk Xuyun, who had been to the farmer's home to collect rent and knew his situation. He said to the farmer, "Monks are compassionate; borrowing grain is no problem. As it happens, you've come at the right time, benefactor. I have a matter that needs help. If you are willing to make a trip to Cizhao Temple and deliver a message for me, what does it matter if I give you a bushel of grain?"

The farmer was deeply grateful, but the monk added, "The grain must wait until you return from delivering the message. This matter is urgent. There is food in the temple; eat, and then set off quickly!"

The farmer, unaware of the monk's intentions, believed him, took the message, and headed straight for Cizhao Temple.

However, the moment the farmer left Xiaoci Temple, Monk Xuyun went to the farmer's home, claiming that the temple had distributed grain and that the farmer's family should go to the temple to collect it.

When the farmer's wife asked where her husband was and why he hadn't returned with the grain, Monk Xuyun said the farmer had taken a job repairing the temple roof and would have to work for five days before returning. He said the farmer was worried about the family running out of food, so he had asked him to come and inform them.

The wife, not suspecting anything, left her eight- or nine-year-old child and elderly father-in-law at home and went alone to Xiaoci Temple.

When the farmer returned from Cizhao Temple, the monks at Xiaoci Temple told him that when his wife came to find him, she had accidentally slipped off a cliff and lost her life.

With no proof and no body found after several searches of the cliff, the farmer believed the monks, thinking she had been carried off by wild beasts. He buried an empty coffin with her clothes and held a hasty memorial service.

However, just two days ago, when the farmer went to Xiaoci Temple again, he accidentally ran into two monks who were dead drunk.

Seeing him, the two monks decided to have some fun and blocked his path, pushing and shoving him. To get the grain, the farmer endured it, letting them mock and insult him.

Seeing that the farmer was a silent fool who wouldn't say a word, the two corrupt monks felt bored. One of them spat, "What a coward. He's not even as tough as his wife..."

The other monk laughed, "It's a pity she wasn't sensible; otherwise, we could have played with her more."

The farmer was enraged. How could he not understand the truth now?

Unfortunately, a starving poor man was destined to be no match for these wine-and-meat monks.

The two monks beat the farmer half to death. After they sobered up, they felt regret.

But they didn't dare let the farmer leave, so they told Monk Xuyun about it, wanting him to decide what to do.

Monk Xuyun heard the story, said nothing, but picked up his lotus-shaped iron pestle and, with a dark face, finished the farmer off with a single strike.

Xu Qing finished watching the farmer's memories, but he still had some questions.

For example, how did the farmer's body return home, and why did no one in Shuiyue Township rise up to resist these hypocritical monks?

Soon, he got the answer from the old person.

The farmer's body had walked to the edge of the field by itself and collapsed on the ridge.

The old person thought the farmer was still alive when he walked back to the fields, but only Xu Qing knew that the farmer had already died at Xiaoci Temple.

As for why he could walk back to the fields he often worked in after death...

It was nothing more than an obsession with this land that he could not let go of!

As for why the tenant farmers refused to resist...

During the funeral, four or five tenant families came to pay their respects. Xu Qing asked those farmers: "Four or five years ago, the Qianjiang River flooded and the harvest failed; the next two years saw a severe drought in Qianzhou with no harvest at all. Only in the last year or two has the weather been favorable and the granaries full."

"But you are living even worse than in the disaster years."

"Have you thought about where the problem lies?"

A tenant farmer replied, "A few months ago, Old Chen's child said the same thing. He gathered over two thousand people, wanting to burn the mountain and destroy the temple."

"His third uncle said that if they attacked those monks, everyone would become bandits and rebels, and they would be wiped out by the government. The Chen boy didn't want to listen, but his third uncle said he had a way to get everyone fed and living well without using weapons."

"Everyone believed him and pushed him to be the negotiator to go to Xiaoci Temple and talk to those masters."

Xu Qing heard this familiar process and could already guess what would happen next.

Sure enough, the Chen boy's third uncle betrayed his nephew the moment he reached Xiaoci Temple. He took the opportunity to gain benefits, not only shedding his status as a tenant farmer but also moving from Shuiyue Township to Quyang Commandery, living the good life that the tenant farmers envied.

Since then, no one in the entire township had been able to stand up straight.

People like the Chen boy were, after all, only a minority.

After finishing the funeral arrangements and leaving the old person's home, Xu Qing specifically left behind some dry rations and silver.

As for whether this old and young pair would stay in Shuiyue Township or take the food and silver elsewhere, Xu Qing did not interfere.

In the current Great Yong, Cizhao Temple and Xiaoci Temple were everywhere. Could they truly escape this predicament by going elsewhere?

The answer was obvious.

Xu Qing understood this truth: what could illuminate the darkness was not those fields and grain, but the fire in one's heart.

Only fire could bring warmth.

The next day, early morning.

While the mist was still hazy and the sun had not yet risen, Xu Qing, leading his horse and with Xuanyu, arrived outside Xiaoci Temple.

This morning, Xu Qing let the monks of Xiaoci Temple feel the warmth of fire.

When the smoldering fire rolled over the temple like a tidal wave and the monks wailed in agony, the Buddha statues in the temple remained as they had been before, lowering their compassionate eyes and quietly watching everything before them.

At this time, Xuanyu transformed into eight black afterimages, patrolling outside the temple. If any monk accidentally ran out, she kindly sent them back into the sea of fire, letting them continue to feel the warmth of the "Xu Immortal."

And Xu Qing, having set the fire, followed Monk Xuyun's memories to find where Xiaoci Temple stored its grain.

Even though most of the grain had already been transported to Cizhao Temple, the remaining amount was no less than one hundred thousand bushels.

Using the "Bowl of Pecking Rice" to collect all the grain, Xu Qing looked back at the temple in the sea of fire, feeling that the corpses were warm.

On the mountain path, as the first ray of sunlight rose and the hazy mist disappeared, Xu Qing led the horse, with Xuanyu following beside him. The zombie and the cat set off on their journey once more.

At this moment, Xuanyu suddenly asked:

"Did the Xu Immortal forget what Monk Xinyuan said?"

"I didn't forget. It's just a sixteen-word prophecy; I remember it clearly." Xu Qing recalled the mad monk's words and stated them again: "The monk said: 'Demolish temples, destroy shrines; the world is vast, but eating is the most important thing.'"

"I have always kept it in mind."

"."

Is that right? Is that really what the monk said?

Xuanyu was half-doubting.

"My Buddha is compassionate, Amitabha."

Xu Qing chanted a Buddhist name, his heart unwavering.

(End of chapter)