Chapter 205 — The Fat Monk’s Purpose

Morning light streamed through the gaps in the eastern clouds. Fa Jing stood by the roadside, thanking a passing merchant. His gaze stretched into the distance—there, a small river shimmered, winding through the village like a jade ribbon. Behind him, the sea of clouds over Qixia Mountain surged and rolled; as the morning sun cast its glow, it seemed as though golden qi was rising into the heavens.

“Good… what a fine place.”

The fat monk formed a hand seal and bowed toward the distant mountain village. The two youths beside him were also somewhat entranced by the morning scenery, only snapping back to their senses when they heard Fa Jing say, “Let’s go.”

The youth with heterochromatic eyes—brown and blue—drew back his earlier expression, snorting coldly through his nose as he crossed his arms and followed behind the fat monk. The other boy, meanwhile, looked around curiously, taking in everything.

“Master, what kind of person is this Mr. Lu?”

“Learned… cultivated…” Fa Jing’s monk robe hung open, fluttering at his sides. The prayer beads upon his thick chest clacked noisily against one another, and his round face resembled that of a smiling Maitreya.

“Haha… and possessed of rare virtue.”

The monk cast a sidelong glance at Yuwen Tuo, who walked in silence, and softly repeated, “Virtue is very important.”

The only reply he received was another cold snort from Yuwen Tuo.

On the dirt path leading to Lu Family Village, off to one side of the trio, there was another youth carrying a wooden sword on his back, a leaf dangling from his mouth. He craned his neck, peering over at them.

“You’re looking for Mr. Lu too?”

The monk nodded. “Yes.”

“Mm… I remember—Mr. Lu is over there!” Li Sui’an pointed toward the western hillside of the village. “I’m telling you, Mr. Lu likes peace and quiet. At this time, the spiritual qi on the mountain is especially abundant—it helps with cultivation!”

“Oh?”

Fa Jing halted and finally gave the youth a careful look. He wore a patched, yellow-brown short robe, his features were delicate, and with the leaf between his lips, there was a clever sharpness between his brows.

“Little benefactor… one must not speak falsehoods.”

His tone was gentle. After speaking, he led Yuwen Tuo and the other boy toward the village entrance. Behind them, Li Sui’an’s cries of “Hey—hey!” trailed after them.

Just as he was still saying, “Why don’t you believe me? It’s true…,” in the village threshing ground, an old man with a goat beard stood bathed in sunlight, slowly practicing his martial arts. Behind him were eight burly men of Lu Family Village, their chests bare, swinging stone locks and millstones; the air was filled with the whooshing sounds of their movements.

The old man slowly struck his final punch, then withdrew his stance and regulated his breath. His sightless eyes turned toward the village entrance, sensing a gentle and auspicious Buddhist aura. His beard trembled slightly as he stroked its tip, a faint smile forming.

“For what matter does the Master come to Lu Family Village?”

The eight men around him, who had been lifting stone locks and swinging millstones, stopped mid-motion. Their chests tensed and flexed as they tilted their heads to look at the four figures entering the village. The three youths were dismissed at a glance; their attention fixed firmly on the big monk who likewise bared his chest.

Lu Pan casually tossed aside the millstone in his hands—dozens of jin in weight. It struck the ground with a heavy thud. He dusted off his hands, his gaze wary.

At the village entrance, Fa Jing intoned a Buddhist invocation.

“This humble monk, has come to visit, Daoist Friend Lu. I ask that, you all grant, this favor.”

Off to the side, Li Sui’an spat out the leaf from his mouth and folded his arms as he sidled up beside Yuwen Tuo and the other youth, jerking his chin forward.

“See that? Another expert senior. Even though his eyes can’t see, he can still tell that the fat monk is a man of the Buddhist path. And look over there—those eight strong fellows, tsk tsk, those muscles are even more impressive than some great generals. When you meet Mr. Lu later, don’t be so scared you wet your pants.”

“Mhm… they really are quite formidable. If only I could become like that in the future.” The youth beside Yuwen Tuo, his complexion sallow and his frame thin, stared at the eight men. “I wonder if Mr. Lu can make me as strong as them.”

“Hmph.” Yuwen Tuo glanced once at the eight men and the old man, then looked away, his voice cold. “A blind man without any cultivation, and a bunch of brutes—what’s so impressive about them?”

However, he said nothing about the Lu Liangsheng he was about to meet. Ever since entering Qixia Mountain, he could already sense that within this vast range, formations were interlinked, and even the fields and riverways below gathered spiritual qi. Without some real ability, such an arrangement could not possibly have been set up.

While he was still thinking, the old man over there had already finished speaking with the fat monk and began walking ahead to lead the way. They passed by a fenced courtyard—clusters of blooming morning glories stretched beyond the wall, swaying gently in the wind. Butterflies and bees danced among the flowers, while several birds flew over the group’s heads, landing on the branches of a cypress tree in the yard, blinking as they looked down below.

As soon as they entered the courtyard, Fa Jing recited a Buddhist invocation. Beneath the tree, on a stone bench, sat a child with a bronze collar around his neck, holding a bowl with a red rooster painted on it. He tilted his little head, looking at them.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Mingyue, this Master has come to see your teacher.” Wang Banxia naturally knew the child’s identity and spoke with a chuckle. Before the others had even reacted to the word “teacher” in his sentence, the child on the bench had already set down his bowl and called crisply toward the kitchen—

“Sir, there’s a fat monk outside looking for you.”

Creak—

The kitchen door opened, and Lu Liangsheng stepped out holding a bowl. When he saw the stout figure in the courtyard, along with the youth carrying a wooden sword on his back, his expression froze for a moment. Behind him, Li Jinhua, the Daoist, and Lu Xiaoxian poked their heads out one after another; at the center of the doorway, Honglian directly leaned out half her body, startling the three youths over there.

“Master Fa Jing, what brings you here?” The scholar put away his bowl and chopsticks, making a gesture of invitation. “Please wait under the tree for a moment.”

Fa Jing smiled as he walked over, flicking his monk sleeves. “Daoist Friend Lu, do as you please.”

Under the eaves, Lu Liangsheng smiled and nodded. He glanced at Li Sui’an, who was jumping and waving, then turned back into the kitchen to set down the bowl and chopsticks. When he came out again, the little Daoist Mingyue had already placed a kettle over a small stove to boil water. Seeing his teacher approach, he picked up his own bowl and chopsticks and quickly ran into the kitchen.

Yuwen Tuo calmed his emotions and simply stood by the vegetable patch, watching Mr. Lu beneath the tree—dressed like a scholar, chatting and laughing with the monk. He didn’t notice a grain of rice on his sleeve, appearing weak and unassuming—nothing like some great cultivator.

“You don’t understand.” Beside him, Li Sui’an seemed to have guessed what he was thinking and nudged him with his elbow. “The more ordinary someone appears, the more it shows their cultivation is profound. Tell me, which enlightened expert goes around all day acting imposing and awe-inspiring?”

“Now that you say it, that does seem to make sense.”

Yuwen Tuo nodded coldly. “But how can you tell that this Mr. Lu definitely has profound cultivation?”

“I never said I could tell.” Li Sui’an casually threw an arm around him, patting his shoulder as he lifted his chin proudly. “Because he’s my master!”

“You…”

Yuwen Tuo was left speechless as he looked at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught sight of a lump of black shadow crawling out from the vegetable patch. The densely packed bumps on its back reflected the morning light, making him feel uncomfortable. With a casual kick, he sent the thing back where it came from.

“After parting in Heliang Prefecture, I went to Northern Zhou. The customs and people there differ from the south—quite interesting.”

“Mhm… this humble monk, on the way back… to Tianzhi City… met Daoist Friend Sun outside the city. Unfortunately, I had a group of children, with no kin by my side, so I could not, travel together with him.”

“A group?”

“Yes. Some have already, been settled at Wanfo Temple. The rest were unwilling. That child—with brown and blue eyes—caused unrest in the temple, so I had no choice, but to find him another place to belong.”

“Hehe.”

The cypress branches swayed gently, and dappled light flickered across the stone table below. The monk and the scholar chatted and laughed for a while.

Puff, puff, puff.

On the small stove, the water had come to a boil, steam rising in thick curls.

Lu Liangsheng rolled up his sleeves, lifted the kettle, and brewed tea for the two of them, then pushed a cup toward the fat monk.

“Master, did you come here for the sake of these three children?”

“Yes—two.” Fa Jing lifted the tea as if unaware of its scalding heat and took a sip. “That youth carrying a sword, came of his own accord. There are, traces of a sword cultivator upon him.”

Lu Liangsheng glanced toward the three youths whispering among themselves and smiled. “I taught him. Though I didn’t expect he would come looking for me on his own.”

“He’s sincere!” The monk emphasized the two words heavily, clearly affirming Li Sui’an.

At this point, his intention was already obvious. Fa Jing paused, then his large frame rose to its feet. Forming a hand seal, he bowed toward Lu Liangsheng.

“I ask that Daoist Friend Lu… take them in.”