Walking out of the Return to Impermanence Hall and past the corridor, Bao Zhu still felt uncomfortable in her heart. She deliberately stopped and waited for the people ahead to walk far away, then beckoned Wei Xun to come over.
Wei Xun stopped three steps away and asked: “What’s wrong?”
Bao Zhu continued beckoning for him to come closer, but he stood motionless. Bao Zhu frowned and said: “Do you know what ‘whispering close to the ear’ means?”
Wei Xun blinked and said: “There’s no need to be that close. My hearing is excellent – just say whatever you need to say.”
Bao Zhu’s face immediately changed color. These past few days, she didn’t know what was wrong with this person. Usually they got along and chatted easily, but he inexplicably and deliberately avoided her. Just like earlier outside the mountain gate when her leg went numb – he only helped her down then immediately let go. Was he avoiding suspicion? Being cautious? Disgusted?
Seeing Bao Zhu’s expression change from puzzlement to shame and anger, about to explode in fury, Wei Xun realized he had gone too far and quickly made up an excuse: “I smell bad. I tend to that donkey and ox every day – livestock are very stinky. However long you haven’t bathed, I haven’t bathed that long either.”
Bao Zhu was startled. Recalling the foul stench in the Return to Impermanence Hall, she suspiciously raised her sleeve to smell herself. On second thought, it was indeed better to maintain proper distance from each other.
She cleared her throat and lowered her voice: “Did you see that mural of the beautiful woman in the newly dead phase in the great hall?”
“Uh…”
Wei Xun hesitated, recalling that the woman in the painting seemed to be unclothed. He didn’t know if this question contained a trap, but that giant mural was nearly ten zhang high – to say he hadn’t seen it would be too obvious a lie. He carefully watched Bao Zhu’s expression and answered: “I… did see it, but I didn’t look carefully.”
Bao Zhu looked around and, seeing no one nearby, instructed: “Tonight you’re going to steal a jar of paint and completely paint over that entire image for me.”
Hearing it was just mischief, Wei Xun breathed a slight sigh of relief and nodded in agreement: “That’s easy enough.”
Bao Zhu earnestly instructed: “Don’t scribble randomly – just apply a flat coating to cover it, like… like putting a blanket over her. And absolutely don’t leave any of your lynx doodles on the wall.”
Wei Xun agreed to everything and laughed: “Since we’re pranking the monks, there’s no need to honestly leave our names. You hate that mural so much?”
Bao Zhu said irritably: “It’s not hate – I just can’t bear to see such an image exposed in the wilderness.”
The predecessor of Toad Light Temple, Brilliant Light Temple, was a nunnery. During the Northern Wei period it was a women’s imperial monastery. Besides the nuns who permanently resided there, imperial concubines from the inner palace and beauties from the women’s quarters all used this place for Buddhist study. Noble family daughters also took vows here. To accommodate these distinguished female guests, Brilliant Light Temple had many exquisite and elegant meditation chambers with winding, secluded paths.
Later, as the temple underwent several renovations, these designs were preserved to the present day. Additionally, hot springs were discovered during reconstruction. If nobles and wealthy people of Luoyang wanted to leave home for devoted Buddhist practice, or simply purify their hearts and fast for a period, Great Toad Light Temple’s guest quarters became the best choice.
Since leaving Chang’an, Bao Zhu hadn’t stayed in any proper, clean lodgings. Her nerves, which had been taut throughout the journey, finally relaxed, and she nearly wept with emotion.
In the secular world, the differences between master and servant were enormous. In official inns, only the official himself could stay while attendants had to find other accommodation, and they absolutely wouldn’t dine together. But Tan Lin had emphasized “four distinguished guests,” so the guest master Guanyun who handled reception and the head cook Guanchao who managed meals treated all four as honored guests, welcoming them into the guest quarters.
Though it was already late, well past the time when monks observed “not eating after noon,” Guanchao still had people bring vegetarian meals to the elegant and quiet small dining hall for them to enjoy.
The vegetarian meal looked simple and plain at first glance. Rather than vulgar mock-meat dishes, it was soup noodles made with fresh mushrooms, new bamboo shoots, and wheat gluten. The side dishes were only two flavors – cold dressed celery with vinegar and cloud ear mushrooms. But whether the noodles or vegetables, all were exceptionally delicious, far beyond what common eateries could provide.
The four ate heartily. Shisan Lang exclaimed: “I’ve stayed temporarily at countless temple monasteries and scrounged countless vegetarian meals, but I’ve never eaten soup noodles this delicious.”
Yang Xingjian thought: Never mind a young monk who begged for food everywhere – even he, as a court official, had never eaten such food. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been thoroughly starved by rough food along the way, making his taste buds especially sensitive.
Bao Zhu wolfed down two bowls, sweating on her forehead from the heat. After catching her breath, she said: “This soup noodle broth is made from East Sea mussels, and the vinegar used in the side dishes is brewed from mixed fruits. Besides sourness, it also has fruit fragrance – of course it tastes good.”
After her explanation, the Wei Xun brothers didn’t think much of it, but Yang Xingjian was inwardly shocked. East Sea mussels were seafood produced by Huainan Prefecture. In coastal areas they weren’t valuable – fishermen considered them as cheap as wild vegetables. But transported inland, they became rare delicacies. Huainan sent a batch of dried goods to the palace as tribute every year. As a sixth-rank official, he wasn’t qualified to attend court and had only tasted them once or twice at Prince Shao’s mansion.
Luoyang was closer to the coast than Chang’an, so mussel prices were probably lower, but they were still expensive goods. That Toad Light Temple was willing to use mussels to make soup for guests showed their strength was unimaginably vast.
The after-meal dessert was osmanthus sugar frost – transparent sugar blocks like icicles and crystals, with dried osmanthus petals condensed inside like golden foil fragments. In this quiet monastery famous for its osmanthus tree, tasting sweets with osmanthus fragrance was supremely elegant.
But after eating her fill and sucking on the sugar frost, Bao Zhu couldn’t help thinking of that man selling his child with a carrying pole, inexplicably feeling this sugar had a bitter taste. Hearing Wei Xun crunching the sugar blocks like eating beans, she pushed the plate in front of her toward him. Wei Xun then pushed it to Shisan Lang.
Wei Xun never picked at food, or rather had no conditions to be picky. His preferences for taste were just occasionally buying a malt sugar stick to satisfy cravings. Bao Zhu asked strangely: “Don’t you like eating sugar?”
He answered: “Malt sugar is sweeter and softer.”
Bao Zhu shook her head and sighed, thinking that street malt sugar cost one wen per stick, while this sugar frost was a delicacy refined repeatedly from rock sugar. He probably just wasn’t used to eating it.
After the vegetarian meal, a young monk brought tea implements and a brazier, grinding tea and brewing fragrant tea for the guests. Bao Zhu remembered he followed Guanchao and his dharma name seemed to be Miaozheng. Since the handsome Monk Guanchao didn’t come serve personally but sent a subordinate young monk to replace him, this was truly negligent. Bao Zhu was somewhat displeased.
“Are all the monks with ‘Guan’ in their names disciples of Master Tan Lin?”
Miaozheng answered: “Yes, the four senior brothers Shan, Chuan, Yun, and Chao are all under the abbot’s tutelage.”
Bao Zhu asked again: “Isn’t there also a painter called Guancheng?”
Miaozheng hesitated for a moment and said: “Senior Brother Guancheng is an orphan adopted by the abbot and also his final disciple. Whether in chanting sutras or painting skills, he was the most formidable, but unfortunately he returned to secular life.”
Yang Xingjian asked: “Worldly propriety forbids marriage within the same surname. Returning to secular life is one thing, but how could he take his wife’s surname?”
Miaozheng said: “Senior Brother Guancheng has always been somewhat obsessed. He’s done many outrageous things – this doesn’t count as much.”
“What kind of person is his wife? How could she develop feelings for a monk?”
Miaozheng was young and hadn’t seen much of the world. When questioned, he answered truthfully: “That young woman is named Wu Gui’er. She operates Wu Family Sugar Workshop in Luoyang. The osmanthus sugar frost you distinguished benefactors ate is made by her family. Wu Gui’er often came to our Toad Light Temple to purchase osmanthus flowers. Through repeated contact, she got to know Senior Brother Guancheng. However, after returning to secular life, he still serves as the temple’s painter and hasn’t gone far.”
Shisan Lang interjected: “This Miss Wu is quite committed. Senior Brother Huo Qi also likes seducing monastics, but she just kills without burying – quite harmful. Fortunately she’s not here, or that Monk Guanchao would probably have trouble escaping her clutches.”
“What!?” This was the first time Bao Zhu heard negative information about Huo Qi Lang. She immediately regretted sending her to Youzhou, but the person had already departed, like an arrow from the string – impossible to retrieve.
Wei Xun was never interested in fellow disciples’ private affairs. Having seen the Nine Phase Contemplation in the Return to Impermanence Hall, he remained wary of that phrase “those who shouldn’t die but died unnaturally,” worried that villains might covet Bao Zhu. He asked: “How exactly is this Wu Guancheng obsessed? Does he like painting while looking at corpses?”
Miaozheng trembled all over, terror appearing on his face.
Bao Zhu asked Wei Xun in shock: “How do you know that?”
Wei Xun said: “His ‘Mulian Saving His Mother’ hell painting required observing large numbers of corpses to paint such lifelike details. And probably not just looking at appearances – he likely had to skin and dissect them to carefully study the flow of muscles and bones.”
Yang Xingjian had been leisurely sipping tea but choked on a mouthful that went down the wrong way, coughing violently.
With Wei Xun exposing the temple’s secret in one statement, Miaozheng’s face went pale. He fiddled with the tea grinder in his hands without speaking.
Bao Zhu thought that if anyone else had said this, it would be one thing, but coming from Wei Xun’s mouth, it was very convincing. Who else could be more familiar with human corpse characteristics than a veteran tomb robber?
Under pressure from Wei Xun’s knowledge and boldness, Miaozheng could only tell the truth: “The abbot originally favored Senior Brother Guancheng most, wanting him to inherit his mantle. But Senior Brother Guancheng became obsessed with painting and repeatedly committed evil acts of corpse desecration. All four senior brothers Shan, Chuan, Yun, and Chao opposed him. Later he met Wu Gui’er, developed worldly feelings, and simply returned to secular life, no longer being a monk.”
Wei Xun asked again: “That big man called Guanchuan – when did he enter the temple? What position does he hold?”
Miaozheng said: “About four or five years ago? That was before I became a monk, so I’m not too clear. Senior Brother Guanchuan is the disciplinarian, managing monks’ deportment and advancing and retreating protocols. When someone makes mistakes, he punishes them with the Deshan staff.”
He paused for a while, seeming quite fearful of Guanchuan, and added: “But most of the time he guards beside the abbot and rarely comes out.”
Wei Xun and the others repeatedly questioned the young monk. When they really couldn’t find new information, they let him leave.
Bao Zhu asked Wei Xun: “Is that Monk Guanchuan also suspicious?”
Wei Xun said: “He’s a master. I deliberately provoked him to see his background, but Tan Lin stopped him, so I didn’t succeed.”
After eating the vegetarian meal and drinking tea, the four went to their respective meditation chambers to rest. Wei Xun first had Yang Xingjian and Bao Zhu exchange the rooms Guanyun had arranged, then followed Bao Zhu into her room. He climbed beams and touched tiles, knocked on floor bricks, lifted the entire bed to examine it carefully, confirmed there were no tunnels or secret chambers, and then checked whether the windows had mechanisms.
Holding a candlestick, Bao Zhu watched the young thief jumping around to prevent thieves, finding it somewhat amusing while also feeling reassured.
Toad Light Temple’s meditation chambers were not only quiet and elegant – each room came with an outdoor hot spring pool, surrounded on three sides by bamboo walls. After nightfall, the pool water emitted steaming white mist, captivating the heart.
After examining everything thoroughly, Wei Xun said: “That’s it. If anything happens, shout loudly for me. Before sleeping, definitely check that doors and windows are properly latched.”
Bao Zhu said: “I need to bathe first. I saw too many corpses today – I always feel that smell is stuck to my body and hair.”
Wei Xun had already exited but, hearing this, turned back and said: “Corpse stench really gets into your brain. Sometimes it’s not necessarily really there – just imagined illusion. If you feel you can’t wash the smell away no matter what, don’t scrub your skin raw. Try rinsing your nasal cavity with salt water.” After speaking, he turned and left.
Bao Zhu was stunned for a while, thinking this advice was so detailed – could it come from his personal experience?