Chapter 42: Holy Monk 8 (Finally Got a Disciple)

Holy Monk 8 (Finally Got a Disciple)

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

Amid his busyness, Jiang He does not forget to discover a new use for the system; the system can, via a plugin, filter out a batch of patients trying to take advantage.

The master is of course fine, not a real doctor, so no consultation fee is required; the incense‑oil money is given at will, and they may even refuse. Moreover, the master's prescription can be bought at the county pharmacy, saving a lot of money.

"You don't need to go up the mountain; go to the Peace Hall in the city and see Doctor Mi for a prescription," the parrot hopped onto a man's head, "It's not an incurable disease, don't come to Stone Orchid Temple just to save on consultation fees; Master Xuanji is a monk, not a doctor."

The parrot then flew onto an old woman's head, "You shouldn't save money either; Doctor Fang of Jihe Hall can cure your illness! Well, you can of course choose not to treat it, and just wait to die in half a year."

The parrot pointed out more than a dozen people, all telling them to go to the city to find a doctor.

These people, seeing they couldn't get a bargain, felt socially mortified on the spot; a few, angry and embarrassed, raised their fists to strike the parrot.

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

The huge snake head loomed over them, hissing its forked tongue; the patients trying to take advantage screamed in terror, rolling and crawling away, wishing their parents had given them two extra legs to flee.

Those sincere pilgrims who truly stayed, whether seeking treatment or worshipping, couldn't help but swallow secretly, their hearts trembling, trying to console themselves; although this snake deity looks frightening, it is raised by the master and certainly won't eat people.

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

The parrot flapped its wings to signal the Great White Snake to leave, reassuring the crowd: "Don't worry, Little White won't eat people; it's very well‑behaved."

The Great White Snake hissed in agreement, indicating the parrot was right.

Human flesh is sour, not as tasty as chicken, duck, or goose; it wouldn't wrong itself!

Watching the Great White Snake leave, the pilgrims in line were exceedingly obedient; not a single one dared to cut in line.

The parrot was very pleased, assigning its underlings—several cats raised by the villagers—to monitor the queue, while it hid in a tree munching sunflower seeds.

Among those in line was a youth who looked like a scholar; he coughed intermittently, his body gaunt to the point of skin‑and‑bone, clearly suffering a serious illness.

The youth saw the cats weaving through the crowd, his face showing admiration, "Orchid Village truly has outstanding people and a blessed land; even the cats are so spirited."

Whether the Great White Snake and the parrot have become spirits is another matter, but those cats are indeed ordinary mortal cats.

The young man supporting him felt more confidence in this consultation, whispering, "San Lang, your illness will definitely be cured."

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

Day by day passed, and finally a good event that brought Jiang He to the brink of tears occurred.

Since the reputation of Stone Orchid Temple spread, two monks actually came to the gate to attach themselves!

He specifically examined their physiognomy and found they were all people of merit; he was instantly overjoyed, exclaiming that these are his assistants, his nurses, his staff!

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

What made Jiang He happiest was that Monk No. 1 was a perfect professional match.

His dharma name is Qingwu, in his early thirties; although his appearance is unremarkable, his medical skill is outstanding.

Master Qingwu came to Stone Orchid Temple precisely because of Master Xuanji's medical skill; after exchanging medical techniques with Master Xuanji, he simply tossed the sutras aside, took out a medical text, and discussed medicine with Jiang He daily. Soon he became a seeker of instruction, then later knelt on the ground to seek a teacher, not for scriptures but for medicine!

Jiang He simply accepted this monk who is older than his former self.

It's no joke; he's not foolish—once he trains a disciple with excellent medical skill, the pilgrims climbing the mountain for treatment can finally be diverted. That's truly cause for celebration; he can finally be lazy, finding time to drink tea and eat snacks.

Winter arrived, and when the first snow fell, there were finally not so many pilgrims crowding up the mountain.

Monk No. 2 Qingyuan counted the incense‑oil money; he is a fifteen‑ or sixteen‑year‑old boy, lively and cute, especially sensitive to numbers, and after a short time at Stone Orchid Temple he already controlled the finances.

Senior brother Qingwu cares only about medicine; Master Xuanji cares only about eating and sleeping; the incense‑oil tank overflows and they ignore it; the youngest has to handle the trivial tasks of receiving and sending guests.

The town‑guardian Great White Snake is no longer feared now, but it can only serve as a bodyguard.

As for the parrot, it is said it also helped count money before; seeing it, it cackled wildly, running circles in the temple: "The helper has arrived, little master finally doesn't have to count money!"

Qingyuan muttered to himself, so he came for the temple; if it were another place, they wouldn't dare let a newly entered junior monk handle the money.

Qingyuan went to Jiang He, "Master, with so much incense‑oil money, shall we expand the temple?"

By his account, a temple with such booming incense‑fire should at least build three main halls and side rooms, at least twenty buildings.

"Don't even think about it." Jiang He lay on the couch, half‑closed his eyes, and refused outright, "The temple is big enough as it is, enough for us to live in."

"But there are pilgrims who want to stay and have nowhere to go." Qingyuan was a bit urgent, watching the money slip from his hands he felt pained, "Other temples even take in scholars; lodging and meals are also income…"

Jiang He opened his eyes, looked at him, and said meaningfully, "So now is the perfect time."

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

The parrot, head down eating sunflower seeds, chattered happily, "Little fool, the temple's expansion means the inpatient wing is coming out, which doctor wants night shifts?"

At that moment, Qingwu came over with a medical text to ask, "Master, you said bacteria cause inflammation, the method to reduce inflammation is…"

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

Like a sticky plaster, Qingwu, who seemed eager to pour out all his medical knowledge, gave everyone a headache; Jiang He reflexively looked at the parrot.

Anyway, this world is quite fantastical; receiving a medical text in a dream isn't strange, right?

The parrot, still munching seeds, suddenly cackled, flapping its wings, darting wildly around the room.

Master Qingwu quickly grabbed it, shaking it, "Parrot, be careful! How can you choke on sunflower seeds?!"

The parrot's eyes were blurred from the shaking; it barely managed to swallow the seed stuck in its throat.

Still shaken, it looked around, met the dog‑owner's gaze, shivered, and indeed said there were troublesome people trying to harm it.

Jiang He twitched the corner of his mouth; this dog system, though ineffective elsewhere, always has such strong intuition.

He called out, "Qingyuan, come and cook with master."

Qingyuan tossed the ledger aside and ran over quickly.

His love for food is second only to numbers; the first time he tasted Master Xuanji's vegetarian meal, he swore to take the master as his teacher.

Conveniently, Jiang He was also happy to train a disciple with decent cooking skills, so he could later lie down and wait for meals.

This paragraph is an image paragraph, please visit the correct website, turn off ad‑blocking, and exit browser reading mode.

"Master, this lotus pastry is absolutely delicious." Qingyuan beamed; he's still a child who loves sweets, the lotus pastry is beautiful and tasty, but it contains pork lard, so he can only watch drooling.

Jiang He said, "This is quite oil‑heavy; in spring we'll need to plant more peanuts for oil." Animal oil is too precious in this era; they can't afford ho‑ho, only plant oil, and although plant oil yields are low, it's not a big problem for Jiang He.

Of course, monks also cannot eat meat, so eating vegetable oil is safer.

Qingyuan nodded vigorously: "Don't worry, Master, I will definitely work hard at farming."

He really likes this place; Master not only didn't scold him for being a monk who still indulges his appetite, but also teaches him to cook.

Jiang He smiled meaningfully: "Silly child, you must work hard to learn pastry-making; when he leaves the temple, there will be Qingwu who knows medicine, and Qingyuan who can cook, so the temple's incense will surely be fine."

Jiang He said: "All right, pastries can't be eaten as a meal; today we'll make vegetarian food."

Seeing Jiang He plan to use the big stove, Qingyuan couldn't help but say: "Master, we're only three people; we don't need the big stove, do we?"

The temple's kitchen is very large, with several stoves for boiling water, cooking rice, and simmering soup; previously, Assistant Yu and his servant came to help, and they specially built a big stove and big pot, even the ladle is a huge big ladle, otherwise there wouldn't be enough food for many people.

Jiang He said glumly: "Little White says it also wants to eat."

He was utterly puzzled: aren't chickens, ducks, and geese tasty enough when swallowed whole? Even though ten thousand of them haven't even eaten a third, why does he love his food?

Regarding this, he could only sigh: whose bad habit is this?

Qingyuan finally understood, then looked around: "Right, speaking of Little White, I haven't seen anyone today… a snake shadow?"

He nimbly placed the clean pot on the stove, about to turn and put the washed rice into the pot, when suddenly two loud 'boom-boom' sounds rang out, a lump of something fell from the sky and landed directly in the big pot.

Frightened, Qingyuan stepped back several steps.

Jiang He had already lit the fire; seeing this, he hurriedly extinguished it in fright.

No matter how big the pot, it couldn't hold that huge great white snake; it strained to lift its head from the pot, with half its body and tail still waving outside.

Jiang He looked up at the beams; the kitchen had been boiling water, so it was relatively warm, so the great white snake occupied the beams to keep warm?

Qingwu and the parrot outside heard the sound and hurriedly ran in.

Seeing the great white snake in the pot, the parrot squawked: "Is today's dish iron-pot stewed giant snake?"

Jiang He casually said: "The snake is too big for one pot to stew."

The great white snake, dazed from the fall, straightened up, stared accusingly at everyone, hissing: "It's not tasty!"

Qingwu and Qingyuan came over to lift the dazed great snake out; Qingwu checked it and marveled that its skin was thick and flesh sturdy, unharmed even after falling from the beams.

"Be good, you won't be dizzy soon." Qingwu comforted, knowing the great white snake could understand.

Now the weather has turned cold, the kitchen fire blazes, very warm; the parrot doesn't want to go out, it flies to a beam that is smoke-free and warm, secretly thinking, "No wonder it's a long worm—it knows how to pick a sleeping spot."

"Master, give me a piece of lotus pastry too." the parrot called.

Jiang He broke off a third of the lotus pastry and tossed it to it: "Don't eat too full, there's still dinner."

The parrot nibbled the pastry, eyeing the monk downstairs who was cooking.

This temple seemed to have turned into a food haven, the big and small monks had become chefs, enthusiastically imparting culinary secrets; the parrot turned its tiny bird brain, feeling something was off.

It thought and thought, until bedtime, finally realizing what was wrong.

The great white snake had no choice but to slide down the pillar, its huge head burying into the basket, taking one radish cake per bite, its tail swaying happily.

"Host, we're running a temple, right?" Not a hospital, nor a restaurant.

Qingyuan felt some pressure from being watched, scratched his bald head shyly: "Master, my strength is also greater than ordinary people's." After all, he swings the pot daily, and the temple's big pot is especially large; without some strength he couldn't lift it.

The parrot raised one wing: "Add more sugar."

Everyone in the Daqing dynasty knows the current emperor is over thirty and issueless; it's strange the master treats so many infertile couples and the emperor isn't moved.

The two disciples, hearing this, hurriedly assured the master they could protect themselves, so he needn't worry about them.

This child is really clingy!

He exclaimed delightedly: "Good disciple, the ears are also a weapon; have you heard the story of the wind‑following ear?"

"Master." Shitou raised his head, eyes firm: "I will wait for you in Lanflower Village; if you don't come back, I'll go to the capital to find you."

Not only does its throat hurt, its multicolored feathers aren't bright either; surely it's not resting enough—is a parrot working 996 really too much?!

Summer is fine, at most seven or eight days to the capital; now it's icy snow, so it'll take about half a month.

He's been cooking everything in the big pot lately; ninety percent of the food is eaten by Little White, so grain consumption is especially fast.

The parrot finally erupted, going to Jiang He to wail: "Boo-hoo-hoo, I can't take it, my throat hurts so much."

Finding a shop can be entrusted to Assistant Yu; anyway, Assistant Yu is practically becoming a member of Shilan Temple, so no need to be so formal.

But later, when he returned to the temple, he regretted it deeply, wishing he could travel back to the present and clamp his own chattering mouth.

The great white snake gave him a contemptuous glance: "You two‑legged creatures are so stingy—am I a free‑eating snake? In a couple days I'll dig you a ginseng stalk to offset my food costs; as a mighty snake immortal, I won't take advantage of you two‑legged beings!"

He sighed inwardly: a son is a debt, and I didn't expect this disciple to be a debt too.

In order to let the two disciples graduate as soon as possible, he even went crazy and dragged the system in to be a teacher, one teaching each.

Anyway, we're not doing proper work anyway, so a few more reputations for food stalls don't matter ╮(￣⊿￣)╭

Jiang He knew this disciple's ears were sharp, able to hear sounds from afar; he didn't expect the sound of a hornet's wings flapping to also be audible.

So tired, its two wings limp at its sides; the dog host is really a dog, drawing big pies and talking dreams, making it continue the unfinished teaching career of its past life.

Both disciples had a feeling; when the master previously treated that issueless strongman, they guessed he came from a military camp and also had a capital accent, making it eighty percent likely he was sent by the emperor.

"One day as teacher, lifelong as father; I also count as half your father." Jiang He sighed, "As a teacher I don't need you to repay any kindness; as a teacher I only hope you'll become a good official in the future."

Jiang He chuckled: "Rest assured, if the emperor wants to use me, he'll guarantee my safety." He actually worried a bit about the two disciples: "I fear those people can't do anything to me, but they might go after you; if you can't beat them, release Little White."

Hiss, delicious! Bring a few more, you two‑legged creatures!

It was momentarily dazed by the talk, yet agreed to let the host teach Qingwu medicine; although it can talk, being such a small creature, ten hours of lessons a day is really enough!

Qingyuan clapped his hands: "Wow, senior brother, your strength can resist a cauldron!"

Immediately the three of them enthusiastically dug pits in the ground, buried several large jars, then conducted experiments.

"Ah, this radish cake seems over‑fried."

He couldn't help but sigh: oil is expensive, and frying balls uses a lot, so whenever he makes oil‑heavy dishes he pinches back, afraid to use more.

"Yes, so the folk blood‑drop kinship test is completely inaccurate; even relatives may not mix."

"Human blood types are so many, can't we just transfuse randomly?" Qingwu pondered, gripping a feather‑pen and taking frantic notes.

Jiang He continued to admonish, 'In winter nobody eats plain noodles; your parents' business isn't very secure.' After all, plain noodles aren't a highly skilled food; many people can make them. 'Come, Master will teach you how to make a goose-feather pen.'

He held the little parrot in his hands, respectfully saying, 'Parrot Master, you've worked hard; I'll immediately brew you some snow pear rock sugar water.'

Qingwu continued modestly, 'Actually, before coming to Shilan Temple, I was a martial monk...'

Jiang He said something especially democratic.

Upon learning he was leaving, Shitou teared up, clutching the corner of his clothes and crying, 'I'm not not coming back.' Jiang He said helplessly, wiping the child's tears; this kid is too clingy.

Qingwu also put down the medical book in his hand and came over to hold a meeting together.

'Come, let's hold a meeting.' Jiang He greeted his two disciples.

Climbing the cliff requires arm strength; three or five sturdy men together aren't enough for one of his arms.

Jiang He sighed, 'Winter is still better; there are fewer visitors.' It's rare to be this idle, truly comfortable.

Jiang He sighed again, patting his head, 'Study hard; it's to bring honor to me as your master, and hopefully you'll become top scholar...' Is the pressure of becoming top scholar too great? He quickly amended, 'No need to be top scholar; just do your best.'

There are really too few oil-producing plants, and their oil yield is also low; oil truly cannot be wasted.

Shitou obediently agreed, yet still felt reluctant.

'Master, before studying medicine, I researched poisons.' Qingwu felt a bit embarrassed, smiling modestly, 'For gathering herbs, I've climbed cliffs and precipices plenty; not as skilled as a monkey, but pretty close.'

Qingyuan seemed to understand its words, pointing to the basket in the corner, which was full of radish cakes.

So fragrant, so delicious; human food is still the best.

In two days, the family of Yu that it protects will come; last time it had them prepare cooked chicken, duck, and goose for it to eat.

Qingyuan's face showed shame: 'However, my strength really can't compare to that of my senior brother. Before I became a monk, I loved honey; as a child I often raced horseflies, gaining skill in dodging bee stings, and over time I became especially adept at dodging hidden weapons.'

Jiang He's face showed approval: 'Being agile is enough; escaping quickly.' You wouldn't guess it, but this senior disciple of his is basically Tarzan.

Jiang He suddenly thought of something and said, 'Qingwu, Qingyuan, people will come to the capital in three days.' He instructed the two disciples, 'I may have to spend New Year in the capital; Shilan Temple will be left to you.'

In the kitchen, Qingyuan was busy cooking, occasionally stopping to pull out a feather pen and jot down notes.

With the Yu family as backing, his parents could run their business steadily; even the main branch wouldn't dare interfere.

Qingyuan said, 'It's mainly for the festival.'

The parrot spoke until its mouth was dry, lowered its head to drink up the spring water in the bamboo cup, then flapped its wings and continued lecturing Qingwu on medical texts, 'So before a transfusion, examination is needed.'

Before long, the whole basket of radish cakes was eaten by the big white snake.

After Qingyuan tasted a cold radish cake, he tossed it toward the beam; the big white snake coiled on the beam lowered its head, opened its mouth wide, and caught the thrown food.

He admonished, 'Both of your senior brothers have studied; especially Senior Brother Qingwu, who once passed the scholar exam—if you don't understand something, go ask him.'

To prove himself, Qingwu ran to the kitchen, lifting a water tub full of water with one hand, leaving Qingyuan staring open-mouthed; the senior brother looks so frail, yet his strength is truly astonishing.

Thinking of this, the big white snake drooled profusely; the two-legged beasts of the Yu family, excited, swore to it that the chefs they hired were from the city's top restaurants, guaranteeing the chicken, duck, and goose would be made delicious beyond compare.

Qingwu looked up and saw the parrot on the table, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

At this moment, everyone's gaze turned to Qingyuan.

Shitou knelt and kowtowed; the master's kindness to him is second only to that of his parents, and he fears he may never repay it in this lifetime.

Jiang He couldn't help but fall into deep thought; eating oil is indeed a problem—peanut oil isn't affordable for every household, let alone sesame oil and the like; only wealthy families can afford it.

This is a sugar-loving parrot; anyway, it's not a normal parrot, so eating more sugar is fine, no need to worry about diabetes.

Slightly bitter hot tea, sweetly delicate pastries; the three people and one parrot enjoyed snow under the eaves, while the satiated big white snake slept soundly in the warm kitchen.

After Qingyuan finished today's food, he ran to find Jiang He, 'Master, I think the problem is the oil.'

Qingwu was brandishing knives and spears at the mountain base, while Qingyuan distinguished sounds on the mountain.

The parrot nibbling snacks nearby interjected, 'Xiao Bai will hibernate; it's been sleeping longer and longer lately, so it might not be able to look after things.'

After eating the delicious food, the big white snake lazily returned to the beam, feeling a wave of drowsiness.

After confirming that the little disciple could hear footsteps in the deep night, Jiang He breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to leave in peace; otherwise he'd constantly worry that upon returning he'd see the corpses of his two disciples.

After sending off the tearful disciple, Jiang He reassured the two monastic disciples, 'Disciples, I myself don't know how long I'll be away; watch over Shilan Temple, accept any promising seedlings, and I permit you to take on disciples in my stead… oh, you may also take on disciples yourselves.'

Shitou couldn't help but tear up again; indeed, as the parrot said, the master doesn't care how high he flies, only whether he flies tired or not—what merit or ability does he have in this life?

If this disciple joined the military, he would surely be given important responsibility.

Jiang He taught his two disciples with all his heart and strength, striving to have them graduate as soon as possible.

Jiang He's anger flared from nowhere; 'Damn, is this what he wanted? Who made everyone see Shilan Temple as nothing but a hospital!'

After finishing the day's lessons, the parrot was as if drained of its essence, lying limp on the table.

Qingyuan couldn't help but pat its head: 'Xiao Bai, you really eat too much; remember to ask Steward Yu to pay the food fees, otherwise we truly can't afford to keep you.'

Qingwu said worriedly, 'Master, this journey might be dangerous.'

Shitou tightly gripped the goose-feather pen in his hand; the master said this business is thirty percent his, thirty percent Shilan Temple's, and forty percent the Yu family's.

He remembered there was a type of rapeseed famed as a major oil producer; he had the parrot look up where it is.

Qingyuan immediately said, 'Then the disciple should prepare snacks and tea.'

The feather pen the master taught him to make writes much faster than a brush, the characters can be tiny, saving paper; the only hassle is the ink, which must be ground very fine.

If it were an ordinary snake, it would already have entered hibernation; with the weather getting colder, it will likely go into hibernation soon.

'I don't have time to play catch with you; come down and eat yourself.'

Otherwise, how could a fifteen-year-old kid dare to trek over mountains and rivers to seek out Shilan Temple?

Please move the unaltered original content to vinegar. Slippery''er, literature#official! website. If already there, please close ad-blocking features and exit browser reading mode.