Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 078: Supernatural Growth (Part Four)
The Ten-Mile Temple was shrouded in mystery. It was said that if one harbored ill intentions while visiting, they would inexplicably get lost. To an ordinary person, the Ten-Mile Temple seemed close, yet they would find themselves wandering in circles within the mountains, unable to escape.
I had heard this tale long ago and had visited with my grandfather, finding it not as mystical as rumored. However, I still felt a sense of unease. If it weren't for Yin Yin's situation, I wouldn't have had the confidence to come to the Ten-Mile Temple, fearing an embarrassing incident might occur.
Everyone has a side that remains hidden from others—a dark and sinister aspect lurking deep within. For me, that dark desire was simply to win over Han Mi.
Fortunately, this time I did not get lost and soon caught sight of the Ten-Mile Temple, nestled among lush trees.
The Ten-Mile Temple was one of the most intact remnants left by the earthquake. Despite the massive upheaval, there was not a trace of damage here. The ancient architecture, with its flying eaves and ornate carvings, exuded a serene yet solemn mystery.
A cool breeze swept through, sending a slight chill down Fat Yi's neck as he curiously asked, "Brother Qi, my grandfather never wanted me to come here. I always wondered what was so strange about this place that he kept it so secretive. Now that I see it, it’s nothing special—just houses that look different from ordinary ones."
I now understood why my grandfather had never brought Fat Yi to the Ten-Mile Temple; he had no filter and would blurt out whatever came to mind.
The mountain gate stood wide open as if it had been prepared for our arrival. Fat Yi and I walked inside one after the other. In the courtyard stood a massive incense burner, with wisps of smoke curling up into the air. A faint yet delightful scent of sandalwood lingered around us.
This was an ancient temple built by a wandering monk who discovered this place's unique charm and decided to establish this quaint yet distinctive monastery.
There were no throngs of worshippers here; it was usually very tranquil. The Old Monk's sustenance came from voluntary donations by local villagers who remained anonymous—this was what it meant to do good deeds without seeking recognition.
I felt that every blade of grass and every tree here radiated positivity. However, Fat Yi was clearly displeased: "What is this? It stinks." What a brat! I shot him a glare and stepped on his foot hard. "Ouch! Brother Qi, you—" Before he could finish his sentence, out of nowhere sprang a small monkey with a short tail.
The monkey nimbly leaped onto Fat Yi, perching itself on his shoulder with its bright red bottom showing.
"Yo yo~ Get down! Brother Qi, help me! Yo yo~ Get down!"
Fat Yi was in a panic, spinning around in circles. The more he tried to dislodge the monkey, the more it clung to him with its sparkling eyes full of spirit energy. No matter how he struggled, the monkey remained firmly seated on his shoulder, grinning and making squeaky sounds that resembled laughter—
I stepped forward to help him when a voice called out, "Ma Qi, are you there?" Who was calling? I froze, looking around. In the entire courtyard, it was just me and Fatty, who was jumping around trying to shake off the monkey that was bothering him. Had I misheard?
Due to my eye injury, staring for too long became uncomfortable. I squinted at the quiet houses standing on either side but saw no one appear.
I prepared to help Fatty again when the voice called out once more, "Ma Qi, go to the third meditation room."
This time, I heard it clearly—loud, deep, and penetrating. Someone was indeed calling me. I turned to look at the houses; the third one had a double door with antique lattice windows typical of a meditation room.
I walked toward the meditation room.
Fatty was still bouncing in place, shouting for help at the top of his lungs.
The monkey emitted strange squeaks that sounded like a child's laughter. The laughter, the squeaks, and Fatty's cries faded into the distance as I stepped under the eaves of the meditation room. My ears felt clear, and everything before me appeared solemn and serene.
The person who had called out must be sitting inside the meditation room; perhaps he was the old man with white hair and beard whom I had never looked at directly—the Old Monk.
I cautiously placed my hands on the door and gently pushed it open.
Inside the meditation room was spotless, with a meditation cushion, wooden fish drum, scriptures, and an atmosphere that felt particularly ethereal and calm.
As I entered the meditation room, I faintly heard a barely perceptible chant. My heart became clear and tranquil. Sitting cross-legged on the meditation bed was indeed the Old Monk with white hair and beard. However, it was another person sitting beside him that shocked me.
"Qin Uncle, what are you doing here..." Qin Ye had actually settled in Ten-Mile Temple; this was unexpected. And Fatty's earlier comments seemed utterly mundane now. Honestly, I never thought there would be any connection between Qin Ye and the Old Monk. It appeared that he had a deep relationship with the Old Monk—at least deeper than what I knew.
And then there was Grandpa. As for Lao Luo, I didn't know much about him; Grandpa used to come to Ten-Mile Temple often when he was younger. He brought me here only a few times—counting carefully, it must have been no more than three times altogether.
"Shh..." Qin Ye pointed to himself, then to the Old Monk, and then indicated the meditation cushion on the floor, suggesting that I sit cross-legged.
I obediently sat down on the meditation cushion with my hands pressed together, not daring to look at either the Old Monk or Qin Ye.
"The matter concerning the girl has been clarified by Qin Benefactor; you can rest assured about sending her for burial."
"Amitabha, thank you, Master," I said, bowing my head in gratitude.
"Amitabha, human nature is inherently good; when disaster is far away, human nature is good. When disaster approaches, human nature is evil. Remember this!"
The Old Monk was sparing with his words. I didn't quite understand the meaning behind them, but I listened quietly and respectfully.
"Benefactor Qin, take him away!"
I had many questions in my heart, but I had no choice but to leave. Reluctantly, I stood up, bowed respectfully to the Old Monk, and obediently followed behind Qin Ye.
Yin Yin's successful move to the back garden of Ten-Mile Temple was not my doing; it was thanks to Qin Ye.
As Qin Ye led me out of the meditation room, Fat Yi was still entangled with the monkey.
With a whistle, the monkey leaped away. Fat Yi looked utterly disheveled, nearly on the verge of tears, with marks all over his neck and face from the monkey's playful antics.
"Uncle Qin."
Qin Ye handed me a bottle with a cold expression and a soft cloth bag. "The bottle contains medicine for him to apply on his scratches at night. The cloth bag is for you. I have other matters to attend to; you two can manage on your own."
"Uncle Qin, I want to..."
Qin Ye didn't look at me; he paused slightly and faced forward. "Don't think about anything, don't ask anything. Don't come here again; let things take their course."
"Oh."
"What? You're leaving just like that?" Fat Yi's face turned crimson as he complained. "You came to see the Old Monk, and now you're just leaving without even seeing him?"
"What are you looking at? Let's go!" I shot him an annoyed glance and took the lead.
All the way, Fat Yi kept grumbling.
I pretended not to hear, my mind racing with thoughts about what had just happened. Entering the temple, the monkey attacking him, the words of the Old Monk, and the relationship between Qin Ye and the Old Monk—what was that all about? And what did his last words mean when he told me not to come here?
I hurried along the way, but thankfully my dilapidated motorcycle held up well, and before long, I returned to Han Family Village.
Yin Yin's family was overjoyed to hear that she could be laid to rest in the backyard of Ten-Mile Temple. They immediately sent someone they trusted to take Yin Yin's ashes straight to Ten-Mile Temple.
Some wondered why Yin Yin couldn't have a grand funeral.
There was an unwritten rule here: when a child died, it was referred to as "dying young" rather than "death."
Even though Yin Yin was already twelve years old, this rule still applied. After death, there could be no formal funeral or construction of an official Tomb. If Ten-Mile Temple and the Old Monk refused to accept Yin Yin, she would have to be hastily buried in a regular Cemetery without even a gravestone.
Yin Yin would surely be rewarded for her kindness. After taking care of Yin Yin's affairs, I was on my way back to Ma Wu Funeral Home with Fatty when I received a call from Chi Xinrong. She had some news—her father had passed away and shared the story behind his imprisonment.
Comment 0 Comment Count