In the village, there was a mountain, and on the mountain, a temple.
Within the temple, a young monk was leading the elder monks in their morning chants.
The elder monks were all somewhat distracted, their necks craned, listening for sounds from outside.
The mountain was named Tu Yuan Mountain, and the temple, Tu Yuan Temple, was situated at its summit.
At an altitude of over twelve hundred meters, only one winding path led to the peak, a path with more twists and turns than the famed eighteen bends.
It used to be a small mountain trail, where everyone had to walk to and fro.
A single trip down the mountain would thicken one's legs by half an inch, causing all sorts of backaches and leg cramps; no one was eager to go down.
Later, a wealthy patron, indebted to the temple, generously funded the construction of a paved road up Tu Yuan Mountain.
It was quite wide, at least three Zhang across!
Delighted by the new road, the abbot used his life savings to buy a small pickup truck for leisurely drives.
On the first and fifteenth of each month, he would dispatch someone to drive down the mountain to procure supplies.
Today was the first of May. The spring weather was bright, the birds were singing, the flowers fragrant, and the sky clear—a perfect day to drive the pickup down for supplies, and perhaps a bit of sightseeing.
Inside the hall, where morning chants were being conducted, hands rhythmically struck wooden fish, and voices recited sutras.
Yet, their eyes secretly darted outside, their minds wandering far away.
Only the young monk leading the chanting, with his eyes gently closed, struck the wooden fish with complete focus. His lips were tightly shut, not a single word of scripture escaping them.
Save for the "dok, dok, dok" of the wooden fish, the rhythm had been unbroken from the start of the morning chants to their end.
It looked less like a prayer session and more like a nap.
As the sun climbed higher, its rays streamed through the glass windows, illuminating the great hall where the morning chants were held. The brightest beam fell upon the young monk striking the wooden fish.
The early morning sunlight cast a faint halo of radiance upon his delicate, elegant face, surrounded by shimmering motes of light.
His skin glowed with a translucent, jade-like whiteness, as if enhanced by special effects, exuding an indescribable solemnity and a clear, luminous aura.
With the final strike of the wooden fish, the young monk opened his eyes, joined his palms in a gesture of respect to everyone in the hall, and rose to walk outside.
A portly monk quickly followed, "Uncle Yi Lu, take care."
Yi Lu stopped, met his gaze in silence, and gestured for him to speak his mind.
The portly monk was indeed stout, round and plump all over. He had already broken into a sweat from just those few steps. Wiping his brow with a handkerchief, he panted, "Are you heading down the mountain?"
Yi Lu raised his palm and waved it back and forth, indicating he was not going down.
Seeing that he was not planning to descend, the portly monk breathed a sigh of relief and found his anchor, "It's good that you're not going. The situation is this: yesterday, the abbot received a commission.
It's proving a bit tricky, and the abbot said he needs you to take a look. You see, summer is almost here, and our temple hasn't even bought summer clothes yet. kanδん
Although it's cool on the mountain, we can't go out to farm wearing spring clothes, can we?"
Times were different now; prices were soaring rapidly. Every staple like firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar cost money.
Relying solely on alms and farming could no longer sustain the monks in the temple.
Their Tu Yuan Mountain was remote, with no significant tourist attractions, so they couldn't collect entrance fees.
This had greatly worried their abbot, making his beard almost entirely white. He spent his days devising ways to earn incense money.
They often accepted commissions for reciting scriptures or performing rites of deliverance.
Under normal circumstances, other monks in the temple would handle these tasks.
For matters that were truly beyond their capabilities, they would be brought to Yi Lu.
Hearing his words, Yi Lu looked up at the sun. Indeed, it had a bit of a fierceness, hinting at the approaching peak of summer.
The monks' cultivation levels were not high enough to be impervious to heat and cold; the scorching summer was difficult to bear. Considering they were all his nominal juniors, he thought for a moment and then nodded, agreeing to take the matter.
Upon seeing his nod, the portly monk leaped with joy, "Wonderful! I'll go bring them over right away. They're staying in the guest quarters. Uncle, please wait a moment."
With that, he scurried off to fetch the people who had arrived the previous night. Soon, he brought them out and led them along the mountain path towards Yi Lu's courtyard.
As they walked, he chattered loudly, "I'm not bragging, but you won't find a master as skilled as my uncle, not in our town, our county, or even in the provincial capital.
He studied the Vow of Silence under the Grand Master from a young age. If the Vow of Silence isn't perfected in a day, one doesn't speak for a day. Look, just look at the willpower and determination it requires!
No matter how big a problem you two encounter, my uncle can solve it. That road up the mountain you saw? It was built for my uncle."
The middle-aged man walking behind him understood and smiled a practiced smile, "We have indeed heard of Tu Yuan Temple's reputation, otherwise, we wouldn't have traveled so far.
Don't worry, if your temple's master can truly solve my troubles, money is no issue. Once it's resolved, I will fund the recreation of the Buddha's golden body and the renovation of Tu Yuan Temple."
The portly monk's eyes widened, thinking, "This is a big spender!"
He quickened his pace. After a few steps, he turned back and whispered, "My uncle observes the Vow of Silence, so he won't speak to you."
His uncle was highly respected, but he was responsible for the temple's reception. He had to make the guests feel at home, willing to offer incense money!
The man, dressed impeccably and wearing a suit jacket in the summer heat, replied with a serious expression, "Don't worry, we were also introduced here and are fully prepared for this."
Seeing his seriousness, the portly monk felt a bit puzzled. What did he need to prepare? He just needed to be told.
His uncle's silence wasn't about ignoring people.
Before his curiosity could linger, they reached their destination. He quickly knocked and ushered them in.
It wasn't exactly a courtyard, but two small rooms. In front, a patch of ground enclosed by a fence was planted with flowers and plants.
To the left stood a peach tree, with a stone table beneath it.
A teapot sat on the table, and a young monk, appearing to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, with a fair, tender complexion and an elegant, refined appearance, sat behind it.
He was pouring tea for himself. The portly monk stood outside and introduced in a low voice, "This is my Uncle Yi Lu."
The middle-aged man in the suit froze. He had been directed to find Master Yi Lu of Tu Yuan Temple to resolve a difficult issue, and the person who introduced him had assured him with certainty.
They said Master Yi Lu possessed boundless Buddhist wisdom and would surely handle it with ease. But was this person before him too young?
Was he even fifteen? He looked fair and tender, like a rich young master who had just started middle school.
Could this young monk truly be the legendary, highly respected Master Yi Lu?! How could he see, when discovered by another person, who then pestered him until he gave it away. Coincidentally, the second person wearing a ruby necklace also died at home, in exactly the same manner.
What sent a chill down his spine was that after the second person's death, not only did the police target him, but that ruby necklace... it reappeared inside his clothes!