After selecting the main ingredients, Yun Ye began cooking. He put the chopped pork ribs in the pot to boil briefly to remove the blood, then instructed the cook to mince meat, pick through the freshly dug wild vegetables, and remove the cores from the soaked lotus seeds. He gently tapped them with a knife and put them in a clay pot with glutinous rice to simmer slowly over low heat. The chicken was convenient—it was already cooked, so he just needed to tear it apart with his hands. Yun Ye made a lot of everything, enough for three people to eat.

Shishi was peeling a very large scallion, with picked ginger placed beside her. She was a good child who loved to work. By comparison, Xiao Ya only liked to eat—cooking was torture for her.

These women somehow all liked to eat fatty, oily foods. Originally, he had planned to just lightly fry the meatballs in oil to color them, then steam them in a steamer basket until cooked. Last time he instructed the kitchen to do it this way, but everyone complained it wasn’t tasty, that it had no oil, and tasted dry. This time he would just deep-fry them thoroughly.

Watching the golden-brown meatballs in the oil pot bubble and float up and down, Shishi’s saliva dripped steadily. Using a strainer to scoop out the already fried meatballs, he put a few in a small bowl for Shishi. Watching her hold the bowl and carefully blow on the meatballs, hoping they would cool down quickly, Yun Ye felt very comfortable. This was what a child should look like. Those bald donkeys had taught the child to be like wood.

After eating the meatballs, Shishi seemed very satisfied, carefully stirring the lotus seed soup with a small spoon. Yun Ye added some white fungus to it. Shishi, who had never seen these things before, found it very curious.

Master and disciple hid in the kitchen and each gnawed on a large bone before the lotus seed soup was ready. Three meat dishes, one vegetable dish, and a bowl of soup—this was Yun Ye’s dinner to reward two pregnant women and one wronged woman. Although it was late, wasn’t there a saying that good food is never too late?

He had the cook call over Cheng Chumo and Niu Jianhu, giving each a tray. Niu Jianhu was a bit embarrassed, feeling this lowered Yun Ye’s status. Cheng Chumo grabbed the tray with one hand while his other hand was already grabbing ribs and putting them in his mouth.

“Status is something to show outsiders. It’s laughable to talk about such things between brothers. Hurry up, take the food away, go coax your wives. Xinyue is still waiting to eat.”

Slapping down Cheng Chumo’s hand as it reached for the plate again, he shooed the two away. Yun Ye then had the cook send a basin of stir-fried bones to Dan Ying. His eating wasn’t so particular—as long as it tasted good and there was enough, that was fine. This fellow had an enormous appetite. For one meal, he could eat three fat chickens and still needed to eat a flatbread before saying he was full. It seemed that high martial arts came with high appetite—masters were sustained by their food intake. Without food, even masters would be unsteady on their feet. For dinner, he had only eaten a bellyful of burnt rice, so naturally he wouldn’t be full. Now was precisely the time he needed bones to nourish himself.

Xinyue was cracking green-skinned fruits that the steward had brought from Luoyang. She had waited with difficulty until Yun Ye carried in the food tray, then plopped down at the small table holding chopsticks, ready to eat.

Shishi laid out the dishes for Xinyue one by one, calling her “Mistress” with such affection that Xinyue’s motherly love swelled. She pulled Shishi to sit beside her and picked out a large bone for her to gnaw on. You should know that large bones had always been Xinyue’s exclusive privilege. She could spend an hour scooping out and eating the bone marrow from large bones. At this moment, being able to give her favorite thing to Shishi showed how much she loved this little girl.

Shishi, who had just eaten many things, began dripping saliva again as she gnawed the bone. Xinyue also had no trace of noble lady demeanor. Both hands working together, she stuffed greasy food into her mouth. The sight was unbearable. Sighing, with this way of eating, it wouldn’t do not to prepare hawthorn water for the two of them.

Old Jiang also liked gnawing bones. He and Dan Ying sat together under the starlight, drinking and eating meat at their leisure. The mountain night had some chill. The servants lit pile after pile of bonfires and sat around the fires chatting. The Yun Family people never lacked wine. Any servants who liked to drink would get a small bowl of wine each day to relieve fatigue. The Cheng and Niu families had similar rules. One by one, they took out small wine gourds, took a sip of wine, then spoke a few idle words. Their mood was comfortable, their days leisurely.

Behind them, Shaolin Temple was pitch black without a trace of lamplight. The monks all adhered to the habit of working at sunrise and resting at sunset, just like the subjects of Great Tang. But tonight there must still be two monks unable to sleep. Yun Ye looked at the tightly closed temple gates and smiled darkly.

No need to look—there was a sleepless monk sitting on the pine branches. Even monks couldn’t escape the feeling of loving one’s child. When Yun Ye came over, Dan Ying had pointed at the branches, so Yun Ye knew Jue Yuan must be up there. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting up there, but it probably wasn’t a short time. The scene of Shishi eating and cooking together with Yun Ye must have given him many feelings. This happiness should have been his originally. Who knew which weighed more in his heart—the green lamp and ancient Buddha, or family happiness.

“Master Jue Yuan, do you have the desire to get drunk together?” Yun Ye took a wine gourd, drank a mouthful, and called out loudly.

From a height of three zhang, Jue Yuan jumped straight down. The sound of his landing was very light. He snatched the wine gourd from Yun Ye’s hands and tilted his neck back, gulping down the wine. Dan Ying looked from afar, then whispered with Old Jiang and burst into fierce laughter.

The Yun Family’s wine was fiercely strong. Dan Ying had tasted it. He was very willing to see the monk make a fool of himself. The Yi Jin Jing scripture had only been viewed for an hour before being taken away—truly petty.

Sure enough, Jue Yuan’s face turned completely red, and he was choked by the strong liquor into a series of violent coughs, making those two fellows laugh even more fiercely. After Jue Yuan suppressed the alcohol vapors, not only was he not angry, but he raised his thumb and praised: “Good wine.”

Seeing Jue Yuan perform this way, Old Jiang also praised “Good capacity for wine.” He was never stingy toward kindred spirits in the realm of wine. A small brownish-yellow wine gourd from his waist flew over, and his voice also carried over from afar: “Great monk, this is the first-pressing wine brewed by Yun Family Manor’s wine workshop. It’s extraordinarily sweet and mellow, except that the day after drinking it, your head aches terribly. But for wine-lovers like us, being able to taste such fine wine—what does a little headache matter? Try it.”

Jue Yuan caught the wine gourd, put his palms together to thank Old Jiang for his kindness, twisted open the gourd, and took a light sip. He let the wine roll back and forth in his mouth, letting his taste buds fully experience the wine’s various flavors, then swallowed. He only felt a warm current slide from his throat all the way to his stomach, then spread throughout his body. It was truly an unparalleled treasure of the mortal world.

Yun Ye smiled as he watched these martial men’s way of communicating on the side. Lions still had more common language with lions. Whether violent, generous, pledging life and death friendship, or fighting to the death—all were matters of an instant. When spirits aligned, one bowl of wine down and they were sworn brothers. When words didn’t match, drawing blades against each other was also common. They were much more pure—at least that’s what Yun Ye believed.

“Marquis Yun, that Shishi can become your disciple is her good fortune. This poor monk has nothing—I can only pray for you daily in this ancient temple. In the future, when Shishi grows up, please take the trouble, Marquis Yun, to find her a good family to marry into, to live a good life, bear children—just let her forget she has a father who did vile things. May she never mention it again in this life.”

Having drunk much wine, his self-control naturally declined. Watching Jue Yuan shed tears, Yun Ye also felt uncomfortable. Jue Yuan was worried that having a father like himself would make good families look down on her, delaying Shishi’s marriage prospects. A father who had reached this point was a qualified father, regardless of whether he was a monk.

Yun Ye pointed at the earthen mountain beside them and said to Jue Yuan: “Kinship cannot be severed. For five years you carried earth to build a mountain. The mountain was built, but kinship became even more intense. A high monk who cries, laughs, and gets drunk—where is his Dao foundation? Buddhism doesn’t require severing everything to achieve Buddhahood. Those departed high monks and great virtuous ones who are remembered—which one didn’t harbor wishes to pity heaven and humanity, establish supreme merit, to achieve a Buddha heart? If chanting scriptures while striking wooden fish could make one a Buddha, there would be too many Buddhas in this world. Perhaps becoming Buddha depends on how you act, not what you say.”

“Namu Amitabha. Marquis Yun is truly a person of great wisdom in this world. Jue Yuan, you are within the snare yet still not awakened?” A withered, thin old monk walked out from the darkness. For the first time, Dan Ying’s eyes showed wariness.

“This monk chants a different Buddha’s name than you, Master Jue Yuan.” He ignored this suddenly appearing old monk. He had sought an audience three times and been avoided from afar. Did they think he was the plague?

“Master Dao Xin comes from the Tiantai Sect, a famous great sect of Buddhism, truly not comparable to Shaolin Temple.” After Jue Yuan paid respects to Dao Xin, he explained to Yun Ye. His words also told Yun Ye that this old monk was not to be trifled with.

Yun Ye’s rudeness seemed to form no obstacle at all for the old monk. He still walked over with a smile, holding a string of prayer beads in his hand—not ordinary objects. Under the firelight’s illumination, they actually flickered with seven-colored radiance.

This damned old monk—he somehow knew that Yun Ye had no resistance whatsoever to these miraculous treasures. Taking a Buddhist treasure to come discuss matters with him—how could he continue pretending?

“Oh my, so it’s Master Dao Xin in person. This youth Yun Ye pays respects to the Master. I wonder where you bought this string of prayer beads? My grandmother is devoted to Buddha and always complains that her sandalwood prayer beads aren’t very handy. Several times she’s gotten confused counting while chanting scriptures. Since there are prayer beads of such craftsmanship, this youth will certainly buy them to show filial respect to grandmother.”

After hearing Yun Ye’s shameless words, Jue Yuan’s drunkenness immediately sobered up, doubting whether he had entrusted his daughter to the wrong person. Dan Ying didn’t even know his bone had fallen from his hand. Only Old Jiang admired the family head’s money-gathering methods from the bottom of his heart, praising endlessly with his mouth.

“This string of prayer beads was originally what this old monk prepared to ask Marquis Yun to bring back and deliver to Old Madam Yun. I heard she is devoted to Buddha. This kind of dharma instrument paired with Old Madam’s pure and virtuous conduct would complement each other perfectly. Marquis Yun must not refuse.”

Dao Xin was originally a high monk well-versed in human affairs, a different kind of person from those dull monks in Shaolin Temple who only knew to strike wooden fish and chant scriptures. Having met countless high officials and nobles, he had long mastered these worldly matters. How could Yun Ye’s use of requesting prayer beads to vent his resentment over being avoided three times escape him? Besides, this was human nature. When asking someone for help, you couldn’t do so without presenting gifts.