Observing the stiffness in the corners of Li Shasha’s mouth, Li Xichun failed to grasp the gravity of the situation and jokingly remarked with a smile, “Does our little prodigy still need bedtime stories?”
Li Shasha slowly shook his head, sensing that the rhythm of his heartbeat had noticeably quickened.
After a prolonged silence, he inquired, “Can I call Grandpa?”
Li Xichun, realizing that he referred to his grandfather and not his father, responded cheerfully, “Of course you can.”
Once the call was connected, Mr. Li’s demeanor remained typical: “What’s the matter?”
“Your grandson wants to talk to you.”
The younger generation’s words are not frivolous, and the old Mr. Li on the mountain unconsciously curved the corners of his mouth upon hearing them. When the child’s voice reached him, he joyfully inquired, “Shasha, have you finished your homework?”
Li Shasha gritted his teeth but struggled to convey the horror. Gasping for breath, he could only manage to utter one word, “Run!”
It was already too late to escape overnight.
Old Man Li was perplexed.
Misinterpreting Li Shasha’s occasional rambling as a philosophical discussion, Li Xichun took the phone in time and casually ended the call with a few words.
—
In the mountainous terrain with numerous plank roads, the cool temperature seeped through the air.
The temple Mr. Li and his entourage visited was named Xingyun Temple, symbolizing the pursuit of true freedom akin to floating clouds.
In its heyday, the temple boasted a hot spring, making it a small local attraction. However, as the spring dried up, the number of visitors gradually declined. Nevertheless, the older generation harbored fond memories of the place and believed it would bring good fortune. Therefore, they continued to organize an annual pilgrimage, worshiping and contributing incense money.
The Buddha, situated on high, required offerings for the worshippers. In anticipation of the ‘incense family’s arrival, the abbot personally greeted them outside the temple.
Since it was late and unsuitable for further worship, they settled into their accommodations, and the abbot instructed the kitchen to prepare a light meal.
At the dinner table, amidst several middle-aged and elderly individuals, Li Xiangfu appeared out of place.
One elderly man, looking particularly stern, couldn’t conceal his displeasure as he held his chopsticks. He attached great importance to the annual incense burning and believed Mr. Li was merely playing around, insisting on bringing a younger companion.
How many young people today sincerely seek enlightenment?
Old Man Li paid no mind; he had resolved to let his youngest son experience some hardships in seclusion. He understood that even if Li Xiangfu worked in the company, indulging in extravagant meals occasionally was a luxury.
The focus in the temple was on borrowing essentials, as they frequently visited. The young monk promptly provided suitable monk attire.
Accustomed to minimal sleep in old age, all the elderly rose before 6 o’clock the next day, engaging in light exercises in the courtyard.
Old Man Li knocked on Li Xiangfu’s room door, but there was no response.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“It’s normal for young people to enjoy sleeping in,” remarked the very serious elderly man surnamed An, who used to be a renowned designer in the industry. “You shouldn’t bring companions.”
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Early in the morning, the gluttonous worms in their stomachs were awakened.
Not far from the kitchen, drawn by the aroma, a figure approached. The kitchen door was ajar, revealing the sight of a man with long hair pinned casually and rolled-up sleeves preparing porridge. The scene exuded an antique charm more captivating than those depicted on TV.
Beside Li Xiangfu stood a tall foreigner wearing non-prescription glasses.
Seeing someone approaching diagonally, Li Xiangfu lifted his head and smiled. “I couldn’t sleep, so I borrowed the kitchen to cook some mushroom porridge for everyone.”
Old Man Li, focusing on the unfamiliar foreigner, inquired, “Who is this?”
“I didn’t expect to meet the judges from the last art competition here.”
The foreigner feigned a warm greeting.
Old Man Li questioned, “What’s wrong with his face?”
A peculiar red mark at a 60-degree angle to the nose caught their attention.
Li Xiangfu explained with embarrassment, “I accidentally danced with the spatula.”
In the early morning, he detected a clandestine figure lurking in the shadows. Deciding to send the producer ahead, a mishap occurred, leading to an unexpected twist of events. As Li Xiangfu narrated the incident casually, the foreigners on the side felt palpitations.
The events from half an hour ago played vividly in his mind—the other party pretended to come out and pour water but was caught off guard, and he deftly dodged the attack. While ladling porridge, Li Xiangfu marveled at Qin Jin’s almost terrifyingly comprehensive skills. He had merely posted a landscape photo on his social media, and someone had been dispatched just in case.
“Let’s eat first.” Regaining composure, Li Xiangfu smiled gently, found a tray, and efficiently carried away the porridge. The foreigner assisted in handling the tray and brought the food over.
The porridge, made with shredded ginger and flavorful fresh mushrooms, showcased Li Xiangfu’s culinary expertise. Even without meat, the dish retained a rich broth taste.
Old Man Li, speaking in a hushed tone, inquired, “You didn’t use meat to make it, did you?”
Li Xiangfu chuckled. “Even a good woman can’t cook without rice.”
Despite the desire to add minced meat for nutrition and flavor, it wasn’t available in the temple.
“Is this shepherd’s cabbage?” On the opposite side, An Lao’s eyes widened.
Li Xiangfu nodded in confirmation.
An Lao, previously skeptical about having consumed fake camellia, used to hire a cook at home. Every time the dish was prepared, he sensed the soup was mixed, with grass-green leaves floating on it. The dish in front of him was crispy, refreshing, and exuded a faint fragrance, making it a delightful experience.
After the meal, the abbot arrived, announcing the opportunity to worship the Buddha later. As the abbot’s gaze lingered on Li Xiangfu, he paused, folded his hands, and bowed slightly, and Li Xiangfu reciprocated with a nod.
When turning away, he explained to the puzzled attendees, “Before your arrival, I had a bowl of porridge alone and delivered it to the abbot.”
Such gestures, emphasizing etiquette, were efforts to foster good relationships.
Although there was great attention to Buddha worship, certain aspects were not overly stringent. For instance, the three prostrations involved strict postures and prescribed movements, but the location wasn’t strictly enforced. Any sincere gesture, regardless of location, was considered acceptable in the eyes of Buddha.
Since they were in the temple, a visit to the main hall for Buddha worship was inevitable. With a futon on the ground, everyone entered in an orderly manner. When it was Li Xiangfu’s turn, he cleansed his hands, burned incense, and maintained an empty grip from start to finish. His palms, raised above his head, silently recited a few words of upper body worship.
Every time he raised his hand after kneeling, the height remained exactly the same as before, executed with such precision that it could be observed with a magnifying glass.
The little monk, standing silently on the side, couldn’t help but mutter, “Master, he kneels more standard than you.”
The monks remained silent, and the abbot’s eyelids twitched, reluctantly admitting the observation.
After the worship, a separate side hall was designated for chanting. Initially sitting cross-legged like everyone else, Li Xiangfu’s breathing gradually became shorter upon seeing the abbot entering with the scriptures.
During his time in the Nuzun Kingdom, Li Xiangfu led a life of simplicity with a pure heart and minimal desires. For three years, he had no heirs, and the Lao Fujun returned to the light before his death. To his surprise, as he departed, he discovered a lack of tearful farewells in the room. Even his daughter sincerely rejoiced for him.
“You’ve endured much in the mortal world.” The daughter held his hand and whispered, “Now you are finally free.”
Everyone knelt in unison, proclaiming, “Congratulations to Lao Fujun on his liberation.”
Aware that the incense in the house would cease if it continued, Lao Fujun pushed away his daughter tremblingly and held Li Xiangfu’s hand. He spoke, “Grandson, from today onwards… You may want to, just as you did before, ride with the princess, indulge in drinking and writing poetry with the powerful, perhaps discuss business experiences with businessmen… But please, refrain from touching the scriptures!”
Everyone was shocked, assuming Lao Fujun was confused.
However, Lao Fujun’s body exhibited a sudden burst of energy, denying anyone the chance to speak. “This is… If the testament is violated, it is unfilial! Or I won’t be able to close my eyes after dying!”
From that day on, Li Xiangfu lived a life of indulgence.
Many years later, when he saw the Buddhist scriptures again, his heart seemed to be gently swept by wool, and there was an itch.
Perhaps due to the intensity of his gaze, the abbot couldn’t ignore it and asked softly, “Does the donor have any doubts in his heart?”
Since entering, the eyes of the observers have been unsettling.
Li Xiangfu swallowed his saliva and endeavored to maintain a steady tone, “I studied Buddhist scriptures in college, and I also have proficiency in Sanskrit.”
This was a daring statement for anyone, but the abbot, having formed a favorable impression of Li Xiangfu during the morning meal, did not reprimand him.
Monks value humility, and with such a statement, the abbot naturally inquired about his level of proficiency.
Old Man Li reminded him sternly, “Settle down.”
However, Li Xiangfu’s body had its own intentions, and he had already stepped forward to stand in front of him. Even with foreigners outside, he didn’t forget to beckon for them to come in.
“I don’t need to.” The foreigners complied with the boss’s request to provide personal safety guarantees.
Li Xiangfu didn’t insist. After all, the person was at the door, and the chanting could still be heard.
After a moment of meditation, ensuring he developed a sense of respect, and having read the words from memory without turning the page, Li Xiangfu began reciting.
The title of the decathlon was not just a mere title; it also returned part of the power. Like a dance spin, he could move 0.1 seconds faster than the limits of human beings. The same applied to recitation, as the power transmitted by his voice effortlessly reached the depths of the soul.
The expressions of the people in the room gradually became entranced, and even the foreigners outside abandoned their cricket-playing, captivated by the Sanskrit sounds within. The branches in their hands were unconsciously set aside.
Coincidentally, a monk rang the bell in the distance, and the mystical Sanskrit language seemed to whisper in the ear, resembling a dusk drum and morning bell, resonating in people’s hearts for a long time.
He looked at the cricket and reflected.
What am I doing?
Crickets are also life; why should I let them kill each other?
The clouds dispersed in the sky, and the sun shone on their shoulders. For the first time, the foreigners felt the true meaning of life.
In a prolonged state of distraction, the mobile phone rang for a long time before he picked it up. “Hello.”
Qin Jin’s voice was as cold as ever: “Has any suspicious person appeared?”
The foreigner almost muttered, “I’ve searched inside and outside the temple, but I haven’t found a few pilgrims… If there is truly someone with ill intentions, they would have their souls saved.”
As he spoke, he extended his phone into the room to ensure the recitation could be heard.
The foreigners looked up and closed their eyes to feel this world: “Did you hear that?”
The signal in the mountains was poor, introducing an extra carrier, and the voice Qin Jin heard was vague and distorted. Yet, he felt a hint of familiarity. Additionally, Sanskrit was difficult for ordinary people to understand, and without experiencing it on the spot, it sounded like random readings.
On the other side of the city, Qin Jin sat in his office, frowning. “It’s not clear, what kind of spell is Li Xiangfu chanting?”
Incantations?
Putting the phone to his ear again, the foreigner, in a voice filled with experience, said, “Boss, you don’t have Buddha nature.”
……
The author has something to say:
Foreigner: You don’t have Buddha nature.
Qin Jin: I’ll tell you what it means to be inhumane.
……
Li Xiangfu: Back then, there were no children in the whole house for three years—no internal and external strife, just years of tranquility and beauty.
Thank you for the chapter!
Dhhdhfhfjd LXF bewitching people on a Buddhist retreat this time jrjrjfjtntjfjfd
No children huh?
You better not chant ever again, or our mL will forget how to cook rice with you later on
Thanks for the chapter! One more skill in the weirdo range, lol
The way he said “You don’t have Buddha nature” so seriously had me crack up 😂
I hope this poor foreigner won’t die after that
Thank you so much for the chapter !