Chapter 40: Holy Monk 6 (Child-Giving Master)

Holy Monk 6 (Child-Giving Master)

Wang Dalang this time chose to go to Shilan Temple in the daytime, and brought his wife and daughter.

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Wang Dalang stood at the mountain base, shocked by the crowd of people below.

Last time he came, it was already completely dark, and there were hardly any people at the mountain base; he never imagined that Shilan Temple's daytime would look like this—how many people have come? Could it be that everyone is here to pray to the bodhisattva?

Previously he still dared to resent in his heart, feeling that Xuanji Dashi had exposed his father's privacy, making him unable to hold his head up; now he dare not think that way.

Seeing her husband looking around anxiously, Wang Li Shi couldn't help but find it strange, asking, "What are you looking for?"

Wang Dalang swallowed his saliva secretly and whispered, "Um… Is the Snake Immortal here?"

He forever remembers that night when the moonlight was like water, a huge snake coiled on the mountainside, its white scales glittering in the moonlight, the snake's head and body terrifying and ferocious.

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The incense-worshipper behind him had sharp ears, laughed and came up to pat his shoulder, saying, "Today the weather is hot; the Snake Immortal is impatient—if you want to see the Snake Immortal, it's a matter of luck."

His words carried regret; such a big white snake, he also wanted to see what it looked like.

Wang Dalang shook his head violently, "No, no, no—he absolutely did not want this luck; today the big snake isn't here, how great!"

Wang Dalang breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to observe the surrounding worshippers.

The crowd at the mountain base included many in fine clothing; some he recognized were servants of wealthy families in Wutong County—people he would never see even if he sold tofu for a hundred years.

At this moment, the mountain base seemed to have become a market, with countless people crowding here.

Many wealthy households had already set up canopies; the masters sat inside eating snacks and drinking tea, while those of slightly lesser status had servants hold umbrellas for them, sitting underneath to snack on melon seeds.

Smart villagers from Lan Hua Village set up tea and snack stalls around, selling melon seeds and fruits, and some even sold their own carved hairpins, turning this pure Buddhist place into a bustling market.

Wang Dalang stared agape—was this a temple? To the unknowing, it looked more like a market fair.

He looked up the mountain path—it was empty; weren't these people supposed to come to pray to the gods and Buddha? Why were they all crowded at the mountain base?

At that moment, a brightly colored parrot flew down from the treetops, hovering above his head and flapping its wings.

"Line up! Line up! You are number 130!"

Wang Dalang looked bewildered, instinctively obeying the parrot's call; after reacting, he remained dazed.

Wang Li Shi also brought her two daughters this time—the elder eleven years old, the younger nine.

The two little girls gazed curiously at the multicolored parrot and exclaimed in surprise, "Oh my, this bird can actually talk!"

In the crowd, someone recognized Wang Dalang and couldn't help whispering, exchanging glances.

Wang Dalang felt embarrassed and lowered his head, but he had no intention of retreating; with so many aristocrats coming to see Xuanji Dashi, he must have genuine ability.

"Husband, I've asked—we are number 130, we need to line up to go up the mountain." Wang Li Shi whispered, "I heard there are too many worshippers going up the mountain; the temple can't hold them all, so the master has this parrot stationed at the mountain base to call numbers and line people up for the ascent."

As they spoke, a batch of worshippers came down from the mountain—some worried, some suffering, but most looked relaxed.

Wang Dalang silently recited his number; he had been in business for years and could still do math—thirty worshippers per half hour, so today it should be his turn.

It was noon; the summer sun made heads dizzy, and the Lan Hua Village tea sellers cheerfully brought more tea.

Xuanji Dashi is great—he doesn't mind them doing business at the mountain base; even someone like him with no special skills can sell tea, and now the villagers' lives are much better than before.

Then the parrot flew down again, weakly calling, "Numbers sixty to ninety, please rest a moment at the halfway pavilion!"

An illiterate commoner boldly asked the parrot, "Can number sixty-three go up?"

The parrot rolled its eyes, "Damn host, all you know is how to exploit me!"

Ordinary folks don't know numbers—how would they know if it's their turn?

The parrot flew to the edge of the canopy with the most people and shouted, "Can you send someone to help? My voice is about to give out!"

Inside the canopy, a lovely young lady giggled and said to the white-haired elder beside her, "Grandma, look at this parrot—it's so amusing, it really seems to have become a spirit!"

The parrot glanced at her and said, "Pretty miss, I haven't become a spirit—I'm just smarter!"

If it truly cultivated into a spirit and turned human, the dog host would surely exploit it to death; in feudal society there are no human rights, even 007 work is considered a blessing—it definitely doesn't want to become a spirit!

The girl, delighted by its praise, fetched melon seeds to feed it; whether smart or not aside, this parrot truly has good taste.

Aristocratic ladies and housewives—managing household affairs is basic; arranging the hundreds of worshippers down the mountain is no problem.

With these worshippers volunteering to help, the parrot was finally freed.

It lay there lazily, as a beautiful maiden gently groomed its feathers, occasionally offering snacks and melon seeds, and pecking at a couple of drops of fruit dew—instantly feeling the task wasn't so annoying.

The system felt wretched; the dog host was narrow-minded—it merely mocked him a few times, and he willingly spent points to buy a parrot's shell, shoving it inside to make it work.

It now especially misses the three-colored cat shell from its previous world; when it taught the little emperor to read, it regretted not being able to speak, and now it just wants to kick its former self that had such thoughts—being able to stay mute is absolutely the most comfortable thing in existence!

"Little parrot, why aren't you speaking?" the girl feeding it melon seeds asked strangely.

"My lord's voice is hoarse; I need to rest it." The system parrot sighed, "Miss, you're beautiful and kind-hearted; your wishes will surely come true."

The girl's cheeks flushed slightly; she not only refrained from teasing it to speak, but also attentively gave it water and melon seeds, massaging its beautiful feathers.

The crowd at the mountain base grew larger; the parrot drove away worshippers beyond the 150th, frankly stating that only 150 worshippers would be received today, though they could have priority if they came tomorrow.

Latecomers were both dismayed and astonished, but dared not act rashly.

This immortal realm not only has a great white snake, but even the parrot has become a spirit; the fact that Xuanji Dashi can command such spirits shows his ability is surely greater.

Wang Dalang wiped the sweat from his forehead and had his two daughters go buy a few more cups of tea.

When it was Wang Dalang's turn, it was precisely the hottest moment of noon.

He and his wife and daughters waited in the pavilion halfway up the mountain; the mountain scenery was superb, the breeze cool, and his heavy mood finally eased a little.

The two daughters were admiring flowers not far off, relaxed; he had been ill for days, and the daughters had worried and feared, not seeing their smiles for a long time. Although he longed for a son, the daughters are also his children—how could he not care?

Wang Li Shi looked at her two daughters, her expression gentle, and softly asked, "Husband, have you thought about what to do?"

Wang Dalang gripped her hand, "I've thought about it—my parents committed wrongdoing; as a son of the Wang family I must make amends. If Gou Sheng's brother is still alive, I will give him the money from selling the shop and all the savings I've accumulated over these years… if he isn't…"

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If the person truly isn't there, he also doesn't know how to make amends.

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Jiang He first encountered Wang Li's wife; women in feudal society truly suffered, and he needed to determine her position.

"I cannot divorce," the woman said, her face frightened yet her voice firm, "I have five daughters; if we divorce, what will become of them? My youngest daughter is only two years old."

Jiang He's eyes half-closed, his long, elegant fingers turning bead after bead of his rosary, he remained silent and indifferent.

After a moment, he spoke: "Even if you bear no children in your lifetime? Even if you divorce and remarry, would you be better off than now?"

Wang Li's wife bowed deeply, saying, "I will devote the rest of my life to my daughters."

Her natal family urged her to remarry to bear a son, but her heart felt torn apart; she could not abandon her five daughters for a son. The daughters were born after ten months of pregnancy, they are her flesh and blood—how could she abandon them for a son whose whereabouts are unknown?

She, too, is a woman who has never believed that women should be abandoned, whether by parents or husband; such treatment is not something women ought to endure.

Jiang He finally opened his eyes and gave a faint smile—a smile that Wang Li's wife could not describe, one that touched people's hearts, made them instantly lower their guard, and filled them with reassurance.

He appeared gentle, his voice calm and clear: "Benefactor, raise your daughters well; they will be filial, and you will enjoy blessings in the latter half of your life."

Wang Li's wife felt relieved, wiped her tears, and stepped out to let her husband enter.

Wang Dalang didn't notice his wife's tears, sitting anxiously before the master, half hopeful, half desperate.

Jiang He was even colder toward him; one could say he despised the old man.

"Wang Gou Sheng is dead, boiled to death! Your parents in their next life are destined to be pigs and dogs, to be eaten for ten lifetimes to atone..." In a world with spiritual energy and ghosts, karmic retribution brings a sense of satisfaction.

Wang Dalang's face turned pale instantly, his ears ringing loudly.

He immediately knelt, pleading, "Master, please find a way to save my parents!" Though his parents were wicked, they had been good to him, and he could not bear to watch them become pigs and dogs in their next life.

Jiang He's expression was strange: "As a beneficiary, you will also bear part of your parents' sins; the Wang family having no son is merely the smallest punishment. Be grateful you have a good wife—she was a great virtuous soul in her past life; if she divorces you and remarries, she will bear a son and earn respect from her new husband's family."

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Jiang He sighed deeply: "But she says she won't remarry; her remaining merit will protect her daughters, and when they marry they will be charitable, accumulating hidden virtue that will in turn shield their mother. If Lady Li remarries, you will be bedridden for ten years in the latter half of your life and then die an unnatural death."

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In a daze, he seemed to see a gaunt, skin-and-bones man, after death surrounded by flies, reeking horribly, with no one to bury him.

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The master's voice was pure and calm, yet Wang Dalang felt as if he heard the wails of evil spirits, breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Master, save me!" Wang Dalang cried, kneeling and repeatedly striking his forehead against the floor, which soon swelled into a bump.

The master flicked his sleeve lightly, and Wang Dalang found himself lifted into the air, then falling outside the hall.

At today's court assembly, civil and military officials again pressed him to adopt his brother's son.

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He remembered the master's words: without his wife, his latter half of life would be miserable and destitute.

"Are you hurt?" Jiang He bounced up from the bed with a thud, asking, "How serious is it?"

Wang Li's wife approached calmly, helped her panicked husband to his feet, and took their two daughters home with him.

Just then, a series of screams rang out: "Ahhh!"

Upon learning their fate in the next life, the old Mr. and Mrs. Wang were terrified out of their wits; while moving, they soon died of fright.

The emperor said, "Send the secret guards to investigate."

These fresh words were spread by the parrot's big mouth; they had assumed the snake immortal would surely win against the parrot, yet the tiny parrot weighed less than one percent of the great snake, and after repeated defeats, the steward wished he could roll up his sleeves and help the snake ancestor fight!

Wang Dalang was also frightened; for the rest of his life he sought to atone by doing good and accumulating virtue, treating his wife especially well and obeying her in all matters.

Upon hearing this, Jiang He felt relieved at once.

Word spread of a nunnery that was efficacious for granting children, drawing crowds of pilgrims; later, the children born there did not resemble their fathers, and an undercover investigation revealed the truth: the nuns were actually men in disguise, who bewitched the women seeking offspring—no wonder it seemed effective.

The parrot checked and said, "Oh, he got into a fight with someone today..."

Young people, don't be so hot-headed—that's not good!

After another busy day, at mealtime the steward wolfed down his food.

In the following days, Wang Dalang quickly sold his family's shop and house, and the whole family moved away from Wutong County.

He had quite a few imperial physicians, but most were useless; after all the turmoil in the harem, there wasn't a single egg!

The steward's forehead was lined with worry: "This, we need to see the master."

Meanwhile, a person and a parrot lay in the same pose like salted fish, both exhausted to the point of doubting life.

He dared not call the master a lover who discards after sleeping; previously, when it was hot, the master loved to cuddle the snake ancestor while sleeping, but now that the weather has cooled, he no longer wants to hold the cold-blooded creature, and when the parrot beats the snake, he pretends not to notice.

The emperor isn't particularly interested; he hasn't reached the age where one takes elixirs and prays to gods and Buddhas for longevity.

Ping'an quietly withdrew; he, too, is well aware that frenzied pleas for children happen everywhere, and such cases occurred in the previous dynasty.

The parrot thinks that if it could bulge veins, its head would surely be covered in hash marks.

The parrot is especially speechless: "Host, you are a monk aiming to become the state preceptor."

"Right, doctors are people too and need rest..." Jiang He came to his senses, sat up abruptly, and said, "Wait, I'm not a doctor!"

Before death, the couple screamed, "Don't eat me! Don't eat me!"

Dog system, don't even think about defecating on his head!

Then he added, "By the way, go to Changchun Temple to ask a Taoist priest!"

Jiang He's hand, which had been turning the prayer beads, paused, then he roughly grabbed the parrot and slammed it to the ground.

The system felt both proud and helpless; this is its host, whose merit and points often rank first, the most favored by the heavenly consciousness!

The great white snake stared at the parrot with tiger-like intensity, hissing, "Get lost, this is my territory!"

Yet, "this fish cares," "that fish also cares," he need only exert a little effort, and more stranded fish will return to the sea.

Dog host, aaaaah!

He had clearly intended to coast through this world, so why is he now exerting heart and effort? Could it be that he is destined to a life of toil?

Assistant Magistrate Yu silently closed the door, pretending not to have seen.

If he could change his impolite attitude toward the system, that would be flawless!

If it weren't for the Master's superb cooking, he truly couldn't endure; 150 pilgrims a day, and after a day his mouth is all dry.

Jiang He also knows that if he closes his eyes, sees and hears nothing, and only focuses on the mission target, that's fine.

Jiang He yawned: "It's okay, my son doesn't recognize his father, I can recognize the father… no, recognize a brother, I can recognize him as a brother with his Hu parents, I'm here to join this family, not to tear it apart!"

Grandfather Ping'an got to the point, "Your Majesty, the holy monk Xuanji, now popularly called the Child‑Sending Master, has brilliant medical skill; after his treatment, eighty percent of infertile patients become pregnant."

The parrot tilted its head, its beady eyes full of doubt: "Jigong route? What does that mean?"

Jiang He leaned back, ready to die on the soft comfortable bed, and asked weakly, "System, how did my son fare today?"

The Emperor instantly took interest, "Eighty percent?"

So he thought it was the palace's feng shui that was bad; after all, with dragon qi pressing down, even ghosts appear, he can't have children—no, the consort can't have children, it must be a feng shui issue!

"Also there are strange sounds!"

If it were the parrot, it would still dare to scheme; the Master is clearly good‑looking and compassionate, yet for some reason he just doesn't dare to act rashly.

After resting, Jiang He signaled for the next pilgrim to come in.

Jiang He examined its small body from head to toe and maliciously said, "Wine and meat pass through the gut, the Buddha sits in the heart, a roasted parrot is surely a good accompaniment for wine!"

The junior attendants also sympathized: "Did the Master's bedside fairy contest fail again tonight?"

The Emperor said gravely, "Go to Prime Minister Temple and ask the monks to exorcise the ghosts!"

"Not serious, he seems to have fought over that Hu sister; the Hu sister is beautiful, was teased, your son rushed in to fight, his leg got a minor injury, and now he's enjoying a wonderful life being pampered as the family's darling."

A multicolored parrot flew over, perched on the host's bald head, muttering to itself that if in the next world it still wore a parrot shell, it would have to find the host a hairy body, so its head could serve as a bird's nest!

System: "…" No wonder it's a shameless, dignity‑less host!

Parrot system:??!!!!

Before the parrot flew out to work, it glanced back at the host; his features were gentle, compassionate, as if a deity.

In the Great Celebration Era's palace, the Emperor, now in his thirties, looked up at the sky with a heavy expression.

The neighbor, Officer Yu, also felt the ground tremor; he sneaked over, peered through the doorway, and saw the Snake Ancestor hanging his head dejectedly at the Master's gate; that pitiful sight made Officer Yu completely forget its massive size and feel compassion.

Snake Ancestor, why can't you even defeat a single parrot? Look, you failed again tonight.

"Fool! The Master has said, the solution is to do more good deeds and accumulate hidden virtue."

Outside the hall, Officer Yu stood there; having seen many such regretful people, he signaled the junior attendant to "send" Wang Dalang out of the sect.

The parrot flapped its wings and, the moment it opened its mouth, launched into Zuan trash talk: "Dog host, I @#￥%……"

"One hundred fifty patients a day is still too many," the parrot said listlessly, "Host, I think a hundred is more appropriate; what do you think?"

The Emperor firmly refuses to admit that the inability of the palace consorts to bear children is his fault; as a rare emperor skilled in both civil and military affairs, he can mount a horse to fight and dismount to draw a bow without issue, his body strong and robust, how could there be a problem?

The Emperor's mouth twitched; it's not that he's unafraid, but such incidents have occurred so frequently lately that he's become accustomed.

A massive white snake slid down from the eaves, its weight causing the parrot to bounce on the quilt several times.

Someone rushed over immediately, reporting in panic, "Your Majesty, there are ghostly shadows in the palace again!"

Jiang He angrily slapped the quilt and shouted, "I'm a charlatan! A charlatan!"

Officer Yu despises such people the most, and once again feels grateful for his lifelong good deeds, so the Snake Immortal quickly forgave him. If he were evil, the Snake Immortal would surely devour him in one bite; it's also uncertain whether his small body could accommodate another round of the Snake Immortal's appetite.

Although it often scolds the dog host, the system has to admit that its host is unique, few task‑receivers can compare.

The parrot instantly felt neither tired nor sleepy, leapt onto the great snake's head, its slender claws treating the massive snake head like a dance floor, and cackled, "If you have the skill, come hit me! A stupid long worm that only grows a head and not a brain!"

The great white snake, angry, swished its tail, striking its own head, and immediately became dizzy; the most infuriating dead parrot wasn't hit, and it cackled beside it, laughing uncontrollably!

The junior attendants brought by Officer Yu also ate without lifting their heads.

"The Master is too cold‑hearted and selfless!" Officer Yu patted his thigh, turned and asked the steward, "Do you think if I give the parrot a hundred jin of sunflower seeds, it will spare the Snake Ancestor?"

Jiang He still wasn't in a good mood: "As long as you behave, I'll be fine."

Both the monk and the Taoist have been summoned; he doesn't care whether Buddhism and Taoism clash, as long as they exorcise ghosts, he'll worship whichever spirit works.

The parrot sighed, "You are hard‑mouthed but soft‑hearted; what do these people's tragic fates have to do with you? Just close your eyes and ignore them."

"Host, if you don't go pick him up soon, I doubt your son will still recognize his father," the system said worriedly.

The monk, expressionless, said, "Although I'm a monk now, I don't mind taking the Jigong route…"

The parrot, whose life‑and‑death authority is held by the dog host, dares to be angry but cannot speak, so it changes its attitude and politely says, "Master, today the wind is gentle and the sun bright, blossoms are splendid; would you like to leisurely watch the clouds roll and unfold?"

The Emperor says nothing; he's only thirty, so why does everyone think he cannot father children?

Following the lord to worship Buddha is truly wonderful; if every day were like this, they could worship Buddha their whole lives!

From within the hall came the Master's voice, "The humble monk has already spoken of the solution."

"Your Majesty." The attending confidant, Ping'an, stepped forward, "The Western Factory reports that there is a holy monk among the people."

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