Chapter 66: Chopped Chili Fish Head (Part 17)
An urgent matter?
Among all the urgent matters that could possibly occur in this temple right now, the only one that could become Jing Yi's tribulation should be the safety of that Goryeo prince.
Before coming to this courtyard, she had taken note—Wang Tuo was still holed up in his room, buried in examining that stack of the monks' answer sheets. Judging by his demeanor, he seemed determined to ferret out the murderer to sacrifice to the Porcelain King.
Leaving aside whether Shenxiu knew why Jing Yi was so eager to shave his own head, just looking at Shenxiu's demeanor, he didn't seem like the type to be easily startled. His words were spoken with remarkable composure, without the slightest hint of urgency in either expression or tone, as if what he was about to say wasn't an urgent matter at all, but rather an amusing anecdote.
An amusing anecdote that could be called a tribulation...
For a moment, Leng Yue couldn't imagine what this could be. Seeing Jing Yi's dazed expression, he clearly hadn't figured it out either.
"Junior Brother," Shenxiu spoke while neither of them had uttered a word, wearing a benevolent, elder-brotherly smile yet gazing at the bewildered Jing Yi with the compassion of the Buddha observing mortals struggling in the sea of suffering. "Did you just send Master an authentic piece from the late Porcelain King Zhang Laowu and suggest to Master that he tell Layman Wang Tuo the bottle contains the most important part of the Porcelain King's body—the essence of his soul—and that consecrating this object would be far more effective than consecrating his physical remains?"
Leng Yue cast a meaningful glance at Jing Yi.
If Prince An, who never believed in gods or ghosts, found out he had borrowed this bottle for such purposes, he might never be able to return to secular life in this lifetime.
But...
Even though she knew it was all nonsense, she couldn't pinpoint a single statement that was actually wrong. What was worse, the more she pondered it, the more these words seemed to make perfect sense...
Leng Yue didn't want to delve too deeply into the reason for this strange feeling, but one thing was certain: these words were more than enough to fool Wang Tuo.
Jing Yi thought so too.
So Jing Yi, sitting cross-legged on the bed, nodded calmly. However, noticing the compassionate smile in Shenxiu's eyes deepen slightly, Jing Yi couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy and frowned. "What, didn't Wang Tuo believe these words?"
"Amitabha..." Shenxiu's smile remained unchanged as he sighed softly, as if with a hint of regret. "He believed it, and he believed it wholeheartedly."
Jing Yi could tell Shenxiu wasn't lying, but he could also sense that Shenxiu seemed to have more to say.
He didn't know the rules of speech in Buddhist circles, but in a century-old official family like the Jings, those unspoken follow-up words often carried a force capable of utterly demolishing the gentle preceding remarks.
Jing Yi had grown up suffering from such experiences. Even with his mind muddled by fever, this deeply ingrained vigilance remained.
So, while Leng Yue slowly let out a relieved breath, Jing Yi instinctively straightened his back.
"And then?"
"And then..." Shenxiu turned to give Leng Yue a profound look before speaking slowly, "When Layman Wang Tuo heard Master say the bottle contained the most important part of the Porcelain King's body, his emotions became rather complicated. Before he could hear the next sentence, he couldn't resist..."Shenxiu paused, and Jing Yi couldn't resist interjecting, "Cried?"
Before Shenxiu could answer, Leng Yue raised her eyebrows with sudden understanding, took a breath, and declared confidently, "Dropped it."
Shenxiu broke into a smile, pressing his palms together toward Leng Yue and chanting a Buddhist invocation. "Patron Leng truly proves women can rival men."
He just knew...
In that instant, both Shenxiu and Leng Yue—trained martial artists—saw only a blur of gray movement. Neither could clearly discern how Jing Yi went from a cross-legged sitting position to leaping off the bed and landing on the floor. There he stood, eyes wide and the space between his brows darkening. Had he not just eaten his fill, he'd probably have charged out to skin Wang Tuo alive and devour him raw.
"He dropped that vase?!"
This wasn't just slamming him dead against the riverbank—it was grinding him deep into the river mud. A clot of filth clogged in his chest, neither swallowable nor coughable, choked Jing Yi until his eyes reddened.
Leng Yue subtly shifted a step closer to Jing Yi, tugged his sleeve, and whispered mosquito-soft, "Well... in Buddhist teachings, aren't all things essentially empty? What exists doesn't, what doesn't does... It's fine, really..."
After all, this was sacred Buddhist ground. Shenxiu was a monk—however skilled in martial arts, he wouldn't lightly engage in violence. But Jing Yi looked ready to bite someone immediately...
Whoever he bit, she couldn't let it be Shenxiu.
The mysteries clinging to Shenxiu were as numerous as lice on an old monkey deep in the mountains. By the dynasty's penal code, as the Deputy Chief of the Dali Temple, if Jing Yi carelessly tangled with such an "old monkey," when the day came to pin the monkey down and pick off its lice, Jing Yi's own hide would likely suffer collateral damage.
Jing Yi could accept punishment—but he absolutely couldn't undergo investigation.
At least not yet.
But in her urgency, Leng Yue forgot one thing: Shenxiu possessed profound Inner Cultivation. He could probably detect rustling grass beyond the walls with ease, let alone whispers right under his nose...
So, while Jing Yi remained on the verge of tearless despair, Shenxiu already smiled serenely and said, "Patron Leng's words prove you truly possess Buddhist affinity and wisdom."
"..."
Shenxiu seemed utterly oblivious to Jing Yi's all-consuming frenzy. Standing firm and unmoving, his compassionate gaze drifted past Leng Yue's shoulder to rest on Jing Yi's face. Whether from fever or agitation, two vivid blushes bloomed on Jing Yi's handsome features, rather pleasing to the eye.
Shenxiu continued leisurely, "I haven't finished speaking yet, Junior Brother. Don't grieve prematurely."
Following the speech habits of capital officials, such statements often preceded a turnaround. Jing Yi dared to release half a sigh of relief—but since the speaker was a monk raised in a temple since childhood, he only allowed himself the first half of that sigh.
"What else?"
Shenxiu resembled a storyteller holding back a joke sure to bring the house down—amused himself yet unable to laugh prematurely. Thus, while his tone remained even, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curved upward."Also, in his agitation, Benefactor Wang Tuo smashed the bottle until only fingernail-sized fragments remained, yet still couldn't find any parts related to Zhang Lao Wu's body. Master had no choice but to reveal your involvement... Benefactor Wang Tuo's intention is to speak with you about this matter before the scripture copying begins."
After speaking, Shenxiu looked at Jing Yi's flushed face with satisfaction, chanted a Buddhist invocation, and gently advised, "There will be plenty of time for sorrow after meeting Benefactor Wang Tuo, junior brother."
"......"
Leng Yue silently shifted a step sideways, putting some distance between herself and Jing Yi.
This time, even if Jing Yi pounced and bit him to death, she wouldn't intervene.
She didn't know many sayings related to buddhas and bodhisattvas, but two remained clearest in her memory - good and evil eventually meet their retribution, and scoundrels will face divine punishment.
When the time comes, even if she wanted to stop it, she couldn't, right?
As she moved, Shenxiu's gaze followed her. He nodded toward her with palms pressed together, speaking quite sincerely, "This humble monk believes that with a bodhisattva present, Benefactor Wang Tuo might converse with junior brother more peacefully... The Buddha is merciful."
Leng Yue was slightly taken aback. She turned to look at Jing Yi and, seeing his expression, became genuinely concerned for Wang Tuo's safety.
"In that case," Leng Yue composed herself, breathing slowly, "with so many people coming and going in the temple right now, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to go to his room. Could I trouble Venerable Shenxiu to make another trip? Please inform Wang Tuo that we'll wait for him in this room, and ask him to come alone quietly."
Shenxiu didn't respond immediately, instead turning his gaze to Jing Yi, who looked utterly troubled.
The bottle was already smashed... what could be done now...
Jing Yi weakly chanted "Amitabha" to Shenxiu, "I'll trouble you, senior brother..."
"Don't mention it, junior brother."
After speaking, Shenxiu walked to the wardrobe, took out a clean monk's robe and some miscellaneous items, packed them in a cloth bundle, and prepared to deliver the message to Wang Tuo before going to bathe and burn incense. Passing by the table, Shenxiu glanced intentionally or unintentionally at the teapot, then turned to Jing Yi and said lightly, "It's not particularly good tea. Don't brew more when it turns cold. The tea leaves are in the drawer - make a fresh pot."
Only after Shenxiu left with his polite smile did Jing Yi slightly furrow his brows. He turned and looked deeply at the tea set on the table.
"Xiao Yue..." As his gaze fell upon the tea set, all trace of that bite-anyone-alive expression vanished from Jing Yi's features. His voice was soft yet heavy, making Leng Yue start, "Did you notice? Shenxiu seemed to want to tell us something."
Leng Yue shook her head blankly. When it came to such "seemingly" matters, her mind was far less sharp than Jing Yi's. Besides, now that his head was freed from hair restraints, it probably worked even more brilliantly than before.
"What does he want to say?"
Jing Yi shook his head gently. "It definitely has something to do with the tea leaves."
Jing Yi murmured as he walked to the drawer Shenxiu had indicated earlier. Just as he was about to reach for it, Leng Yue darted over and stopped him.
"Step aside. I'll do it."
Jing Yi believed that aside from tea leaves, there were no tricks waiting in this drawer.If Shenxiu had wanted his life, he probably wouldn't have survived this long. As for mechanical traps and such, they weren't as easily tampered with as the storytellers claimed. Moreover, from Jing Yi's understanding, being a proper monk kept one quite busy—Shenxiu likely didn't have the leisure for such things.
So Jing Yi stepped aside without worry, letting Leng Yue carefully open the drawer.
Sure enough, the drawer contained only a few tea boxes lying quietly inside.
Leng Yue reached in and took out each tea box one by one, inspecting them thoroughly before handing them to Jing Yi. Jing Yi examined and sniffed each one carefully, then shook his head. "There's no tea from Cheng Family Tea House... Is there nothing else in the drawer?"
Leng Yue reached deep into the drawer and felt around, her brow slightly furrowing as she retrieved a folded envelope from the very back.
The envelope was empty, but there were some dark green specks stuck in its corners. Leng Yue dabbed the specks with her fingertip and brought them to her nose, inhaling carefully before saying, "Tea leaves."
Jing Yi leaned in and gently sniffed her fingertip, then nodded. "The Cheng family's tea. No wonder it doesn't taste like what I tried at home before. The Old Master stores tea more carefully than pearls, but Shenxiu just wrapped it haphazardly in an envelope. The tea wasn't fresh to begin with, and now it's probably damp—no wonder it tastes worse."
As Jing Yi spoke, Leng Yue stared blankly at the envelope in her hand, as if suddenly remembering something she shouldn't. Her face instantly paled.
"Jing Yi..." After he finished talking about the tea, Leng Yue looked up and asked quietly, "Do you know who asked me to deliver that letter you advised Shenxiu to burn?"
The sudden question about the letter, right after discussing tea, caught Jing Yi off guard. Though he didn't know where her inspiration came from, after a moment's pause, he shook his head and replied, "No, I don't."
Leng Yue seemed surprised by his answer. She stared wide-eyed, her voice involuntarily rising a notch. "Then why did you advise him to burn it?"
"No, no, it wasn't that kind of advice..." Jing Yi's face immediately soured, as if he'd been greatly wronged. "He was holding the envelope and asked me, 'Did I write to you before you got married?' I said yes, and then he asked how you handled the letters I wrote you. I told him you collected each one and burned it without even reading it... Then he said, 'Good idea,' and asked me to light a candle. I had no idea he was going to imitate you and burn the letter!"
Leng Yue rolled her eyes irritably, looking down at the envelope in her hand. A faint blush tinged her cheekbones, and though her words remained sharp, her voice softened despite herself. "Imitate who? Who ever burned your letters?"
"Didn't you say that yourself?"
Leng Yue glanced at Jing Yi, who looked adorably confused. She fought back a smile, keeping her expression stern as she lowered her head to examine the envelope closely, feigning nonchalance. "Your manuscripts, Fourth Young Master Jing, are worth so much on the market. Burn them? Do you really think I'm that foolish?"
Jing Yi was even more bewildered. "You... you sold those letters?"
Leng Yue responded leisurely, "Thinking about it. I'll wait a bit longer... maybe another eighty or a hundred years, and the price will probably double."Jing Yi suddenly snapped out of his dazed, tearless state. A surge of delight made his eyebrows lift cheerfully as he wrapped his arms around Leng Yue from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. He said with a chuckle, "So you've kept them all safely stored away."
Though Jing Yi was feverish and weak—Leng Yue could have pushed him aside with just a finger—she not only refrained but unconsciously leaned closer into his warm embrace.
"Who would keep your sentimental poems..."
"Hmm?" Jing Yi's voice carried a deeper amusement. "Didn't you say you never read them?"
Leng Yue's face flushed crimson instantly.
Not only had she read them—she had memorized them. But the content of Jing Yi's writings... her pride was far too thin to admit how much she liked them, let alone that she had stayed up all night clutching the pages and rolling around in bed...
Leng Yue quickly broke free from Jing Yi's embrace, forcing her flushed face into a stern expression. She pulled out the letter that should have been turned to ashes by Shenxiu and slapped it firmly against Jing Yi's chest.
"You... take a good look at this."
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