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Chapter 306 (1): The Old Monk Who Didn’t Like to Speak About Buddhism



Chapter 306 (1): The Old Monk Who Didn’t Like to Speak About Buddhism

There was a Champion Scholar Alley nearby that was very renowned, but in reality, it couldn\'t even compare with Apricot Blossom Alley back home. There were many poor scholars who had traveled to the capital city for the imperial examination staying there.

Many of them had failed the examination, but couldn\'t afford to make the return journey, and by remaining in the capital city, they could stay longer with the new friends that they had made, so they decided to settle permanently here.

Chen Ping\'an only had the key to his room, but no key for the yard gate, so he made sure to return at a time where the yard gate had already been opened for the morning. After returning to the courtyard, he made his way into his own room, then closed the door.

He took a glance at the stack of books on his table and the blankets on his bed to find that they had all been moved. The signs were very subtle, but they were quite apparent in his eyes, and he could only heave a resigned sigh. Thankfully, nothing had gone missing.

Previously, Chen Ping\'an didn\'t live here. Instead, he had been staying in a large room in an inn so that he could practice his walking fist and sword techniques as he pleased.

However, as his fruitless search for the Observing Dao Temple wore on, he became more and more agitated, and in an extremely rare turn of events, he stopped his practice altogether. In order to save money, he moved into this room, where he would only occasionally practice his standing meditation.

He laid down on his bed, then looked up at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

There was no point in continuing to stumble around like a headless chicken.

He had benefited immensely from this journey, first from his experience on the Sword Qi Great Wall, then from the two battles at the Soaring Eagle Fort. In particular, in the wake of that devilish cultivator\'s core abode self-detonation, a vast amount of spiritual energy had been released, and Chen Ping\'an had been a direct beneficiary of that.

At this point, he could feel that his fourth tier bottleneck was beginning to loosen, but there was also something missing. He had a vague sense that he could make this breakthrough whenever he wanted, but would rather establish a more solid foundation first.

If he couldn\'t find that missing piece, then perhaps he would just have to follow Lu Tai\'s advice and pay a visit to a martial sage temple, or seek out the heroic spirits and Yin gods that were still lingering at ancient battlefields.

He had to find something to do. Otherwise, he felt as if he were about to grow mold.

Chen Ping\'an decided that he was going to stay in the capital city of Southern Garden Nation until the end of summer. If he still couldn\'t find the Observing Dao Temple by then, he would return to Eastern Treasured Vial Continent and focus all of his efforts on reaching the seventh tier.

With the help of Cui Chan\'s grandfather, Chen Ping\'an had a great deal of confidence, and perhaps his ten-year agreement with Ning Yao could be curtailed by a few years.

However, deep down, Chen Ping\'an was still feeling a little fearful of Cui Chan\'s unfathomable grandfather, who had declared that he was going to make Chen Ping\'an the strongest martial artist under the heavens of each tier that he progressed through.

He had already had to endure such immense pain to get to the third tier, and he was genuinely afraid that he would be beaten to death by the old man.

Chen Ping\'an interlaced his fingers behind his own head and closed his eyes.

He wondered if the battle between A\'Liang and the so-called True Invincible Daoist second disciple in the heavens beyond heavens had been decided.

He wondered about what vast mountains and enormous rivers Liu Xianyang had seen on his long journey to the Yingyin Chen Clan.

He wondered if Li Baoping was happy at Mountain Cliff Academy.

He wondered if Gu Can was being bullied at Bamboo Scroll Lake, and whether he now had a new book that contained the names of his enemies.

He wondered if Ruan Xiu still enjoyed the peach cakes of the Dragon Riding Alley shop.

He wondered if Zhang Shanfeng and Xu Yuanxia had made any new friends with whom they could subdue demons and eliminate fiends together.

He wondered if Fan Er had met a girl that he liked in Old Dragon City.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, he gradually fell asleep.

With First and Fifteenth in his Sword Nurturing Gourd, Chen Ping\'an didn\'t have to worry about being vulnerable during sleep.

The courtyard was owned by a family of five, consisting of three generations under the same roof. The old man liked to go out to play Go, but he was a very weak player, and his etiquette was even worse.

The old woman always wore a dark expression and had a very sharp tongue, reminding Chen Ping\'an of Granny Ma from Apricot Blossom Alley.

As for the young couple, the woman was responsible for housework, and she was constantly being berated by her mother-in-law. According to commonly used slang in the capital city, her husband was someone who carried a shop on his back.

Essentially, what that meant was that he walked around with a large bag of junk on his back to sell, and he was constantly loudly advertising his own wares as he made his way through the streets and alleys. On lucky days, he would be able to pick up some valuable old items, then sell them to the antique shops in the city to earn some decent income.

The couple were both quite unremarkable in appearance, but they had a very beautiful son who was about seven or eight years old. Unlike the other kids in the impoverished alley that he grew up in, he looked much more like a young master from an affluent clan.

At school, he was very popular with his teachers, and often liked to watch his grandfather play Go, often watching for hours at a time in complete silence. It seemed that he had the makings of a little scholar.

Everyone in the alley was very fond of this child, and they often made jokes at his expense, asking him which one he preferred out of the girl living next door and Young Mistress Liu from his school. In response, the child would always give a shy smile, then continue to watch his grandfather play Go in silence.

After Chen Ping\'an fell asleep, a small figure emerged from the ground, then climbed its way onto the table, sitting down beside the stack of books as it began to doze off.

The little lotus figure was clearly very proficient in earth movement techniques, and it was able to move extremely fast and in complete silence.

Prior to arriving at the capital city of Southern Garden Nation, Chen Ping\'an occasionally played some games with it, speeding along on horseback or running full tilt for several dozen kilometers at a time. However, whenever he stopped, the little guy would always be right there, sticking its head out of the earth to smile at him.

Regardless of whether Chen Ping\'an was practicing his walking or standing meditation, it never disturbed him, merely watching from afar. Only when Chen Ping\'an beckoned to it would it skip over to his side, then climb up his robe to sit on his shoulder, and the two of them would appreciate the scenery together.

As for that snowflake coin, it was with Chen Ping\'an for the moment.

Chen Ping\'an only had a brief nap before he was woken up by the commotion in the courtyard. The old woman was ranting as usual, while her daughter-in-law responded in a timid voice. The old man was clearing his throat, and the boy was reciting a passage from a book. Only the young man was silent, presumably still sleeping.

Chen Ping\'an sat down at the table and gently picked up a book, and the little lotus figure also woke up before turning to Chen Ping\'an with a bleary-eyed expression.

"Go back to sleep," Chen Ping\'an said with a smile.

The little figure immediately sprang to its feet, then rushed over to Chen Ping\'an\'s side to help him flip over the page of his book, and Chen Ping\'an was already accustomed to this.

He had newly purchased all of these books after parting ways with Lu Tai at the Soaring Eagle Fort. Lu Tai had told him that it was important to focus on quality over quantity when it came to reading. The more books one read, the more their attention would be divided, and that could easily lead to biting off more than one could chew.

Hence, it was much better to read the classics and truly savor them, exploring all of their intricacies, harnessing the principles that they espoused, and peering into the energy, essence, and spirit concealed within the sentences and pages. Only then could one proclaim to have read a book.

Otherwise, it could only be referred to as skimming through a book, and even if one were to skim through thousands of books, they wouldn\'t be able to learn much at all.

At the time, Chen Ping\'an had felt very much enlightened. If it weren\'t for these cautionary words from Lu Tai, perhaps he really would\'ve been inclined to buy every single good book that he came across, and he would be sure to read all of them meticulously. However, there was no end to the good books in the world, yet one\'s lifespan was limited.

He had to practice his fist and sword techniques on top of searching for the Observing Dao Temple, so he didn\'t have much spare time, and that time was naturally best dedicated to reading the best books.

Lu Tai had given him a list of books, and it was a list that Chen Ping\'an greatly cherished, but he didn\'t buy his books according to the list. Instead, he went to purchase the literary classics of the Second Sage of Confucianism.

Unfortunately, it was now impossible to find the Scholarly Sage\'s books on the market.

He wanted to compare the books of the Scholarly Sage with those of the Second Sage.

In terms of bias, Chen Ping\'an was naturally leaning toward Mr. Qi\'s teacher. However, there was no problem in admiring and respecting someone, but if admiration turned into blind trust and absolute obedience, then that would lead to major problems.

Was the Scholarly Sage an accomplished scholar? Of course he was. According to Cui Chan, at the height of his influence, the Scholarly Sage had felt like an insurmountable monolith in the eyes of all scholars.

In that case, did Chen Ping\'an have the right to think that his principles were incorrect?

It seemed almost laughable, like the prospect of an ant trying to topple a tree, but in reality, that was not the case as the Second Sage existed, and he had also written his own share of literary classics.

Chen Ping\'an had once told Ning Yao\'s parents that in order to truly love someone, then one had to love that person\'s flaws as well.

He had also told the little girl in pink and the little boy in azure to be candid with him if he were to do anything wrong.

However, deep down, Chen Ping\'an was naturally hoping that after reading the works of both sages, he would still come to the conclusion that the Scholarly Sage was more correct.

If that were the case, then the next time he shared a drink with the old scholar, they would have something to talk about.

Chen Ping\'an sat in a formal pose, reading very slowly and in a very quiet voice. Whenever he reached the end of a page, the little lotus figure would immediately flip over a new page for him.

After that, it would sit back down onto the table between Chen Ping\'an and the book, imitating Chen Ping\'an\'s formal and rigid seating posture as it listened to his quiet recitation.

The commotion outside was still ongoing, but it was as if Chen Ping\'an were in a world of his own, completely detached from the affairs of this world. This was merely a place where he had paid to stay, and he felt no connection to it.

Not far away from Champion Scholar Alley were some wine shops and brothels, as well as a temple. Even though they were situated very close to each other, they may as well have been worlds apart.

Chen Ping\'an often spotted some monks emerging from the temple while carrying bowls in their hands. They were all very thin, but most of them wore very placid and content expressions, and even if they weren\'t wearing their kasayas, it was still very easy to distinguish them from the average person.

Over at the wine shops and brothels, it was always very lively and bustling at night, and the smell of wine and makeup permeated over the entire street. It was often the case that the commotion would only die down in the early hours of the morning.

Regardless of whether they were men enjoying the services offered on the street, or the women serving them, all of the people there seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves over the course of the night, but as soon as daylight arrived, they would all be left looking frail and drained.

On a few occasions, Chen Ping\'an saw some women escorting their final few customers out of the brothels, then removed their makeup before emerging onto the street outside. There, they would purchase something to eat from the street side stalls, and some of them would fall asleep while sitting on the street, huddled over their bowls of congee or wontons.

Time was more precious than any currency, and they were borrowing time from the heavens. Eventually, the debt would have to be repaid.

Some of the stall owners who had grown familiar with these brothel workers would make suggestive remarks at them, and some of the women didn\'t really care, merely playing along so that they could receive a small discount on their meals. In contrast, some of them took particular offense to such flippant remarks, hurling torrents of abuse at the offending stall owners, who could only mumble apologies in a timid fashion.

However, after those women left, the stall owners would then denounce them as whores who sold their flesh for money, and that it didn\'t make sense for them to be offended by such remarks as they had no shame anyway.

The next day, the offended brothel workers still visited the same stalls, while the petulant stall owners would continue to sneak glances at the brothel workers\' fair and delicate hands. Those hands were as fair as the skin of the pork that they were selling, and they couldn\'t even compare with the yellow and weathered hands of their haggard wives back home.

The stall owners couldn\'t help but wonder what these women had been fed that had allowed them to grow up so fair and beautiful, and they also couldn\'t help but sigh internally at the thought that it would cost them close to half a year\'s worth of profits from running their stalls just to be able to spent a night with them.

Southern Garden Nation had already enjoyed several centuries of peace, and during that time, its rulers had all been passable, with none of them particularly exceptional or particularly incompetent.

Hence, there was no nightly curfew in the capital city, and people were free to carry around weapons and ride on horseback as they pleased without fear of irking the local authorities. Whenever some acquaintances ran into each other, they would greet one another, and some would even go to a nearby shop for a drink. They would talk about all manners of things, and a liter or two of wine would be gone in no time.

In order to search for the Observing Dao Temple, Chen Ping\'an wandered through the capital city every single day, so he had witnessed many of the sights that the city had to offer, including some of the more obscure and strange ones.

As long as no one actively provoked him, Chen Ping\'an paid no heed to anyone else.

Lu Tai had once told him something that he didn\'t identify with very much at the time, but it had since resonated with him more and more.

Upon embarking on the path of cultivation, one would begin to feel as if they could see demons and spirits everywhere.

Chen Ping\'an closed his book, having spent the past two hours reading, and he was about to go out for a walk.

Even though he had become more and more agitated over the course of his search for the Observing Dao Temple, he had made attempts to settle his own mental state.

In fact, he had made extensive efforts to do so, including visiting many temples to offer incense to the Buddha and walking alone in peaceful forests. Whenever he visited a temple, he would record the visit on a bamboo slip, and up to this point, he had visited the small temple next to Champion Scholar Alley the most.

The temple wasn\'t very large, only home to about a dozen monks, so Chen Ping\'an had become quite familiar with all of the monks there. Whenever he felt agitated, he would go there to have a sit, not necessarily to speak with the monks there. Sometimes, he would sit on his own under the eaves and listen to the sound of the windchimes for an entire afternoon.

In Southern Garden Nation, Buddhism was championed over Daoism, so there were countless Buddhist temples in the nation, while Daoist temples were extremely rare, and they were entirely nonexistent in the capital city.

Over the past few days, a piece of shocking news had been making the rounds in the capital city. A huge piece of controversy had come out of White River Temple, one of the four major temples of Southern Garden Nation\'s capital city. White River Temple had always been renowned for how exceptionally devoted their abbots were to the teachings of Buddhism.

All of the abbots of the temple that passed away left behind bodies that decay, and could be cremated to make Sariras. In this regard, the other three major temples all conceded inferiority.

Over time, White River Temple became known as a symbol representing the prosperity of Buddhism in Southern Garden Nation.

However, two years ago, a high-ranking monk of White River Temple was nominated to become abbot, and not long ago, he fled the temple to go to the Imperial Court of Judicial Review to report a case. After hearing the case, all of the officials of the court had been completely dumbstruck.


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