Chapter 4: A Quiet Place in the Red Dust

  I smiled and said, "Actually, your main reason for suspecting Xin Xiaoxin is that he was the first to rush to Li Yubo's room door. Among all of us, only he knew whether the door of that room was locked or not. Everything else is just your speculation, isn't it?"

  Mingying lowered her head and thought for a moment before saying, "Indeed. But anyone can be the murderer, except him."

  I raised an eyebrow and asked why.

  "If he's a murderer, we'll all be doomed!"

  I was startled and hastily said, "For someone like me who has no strength to bind a chicken, it's nothing. Yang Chao has a gun, Zhao Chen's kung fu is not bad, why are you so sure that Xin Xiaoxin can take us all down?"

  Mingying said: "You don't need to know, you just need to know that our lives are all in his hands. If he has a problem, we will surely die."

  I suddenly understood the reasoning behind it and nodded in my heart, but still said: "However, things have come to this point, what else can we do? We can only take it one step at a time."

  Mingying looked at me twice, pouted, and didn't say anything more. She just stood up and bid farewell.

  "I smiled and said: 'I'm afraid I've let you down.'"

  Mingying turned her head and walked two steps before stopping, saying: "You're not a god either."

  I smiled wryly and said yes, then she left.

  Indeed, Mingying's reasoning was not unfounded. Whether the door was locked or not at that time, we couldn't judge. But I was very clear that the door was locked because when I turned around from Li Yubo's room and came out, I had twisted the doorknob, remember? The doorknob made a slight clicking sound, indicating that the lock tongue had been pressed down before. The door was kicked open by Zhao Chen, but the lock remained locked.

  I had already roughly inferred the truth of the whole thing, but this truth is not convenient to tell them now. Since Li Yubo is no longer here, I can only take his place as an advisor to this small team and help them continue to explore the secrets of Gu Kong City and Xi Shi's tomb.

  Thinking so, I jumped off the bed, locked the door, and moved a chair over to prop against the handle.

  To be honest, I'm still scared. I don't want to die.

  The next morning, Xin Xiao prepared breakfast for us. While eating, he mentioned that we would go to Jinshan Island today to explore. I said I had something else to do and asked to be excused. Yang Chao asked me seriously what it was about. I told him I needed to investigate the two stories and must visit Wan Shou Temple. If you all go to Jinshan Island, just tell me the situation when you get back. Do you have a key for the room door? Give me one.

  Yesterday at dinner, Li Yubo had mentioned the role of these two stories and how he was being hunted down because of it. Yang Zan knew that this matter was related to finding Xi Shi's tomb, so she didn't say anything, just humming in agreement.

  After dinner, I put on my backpack and headed to the Wanshou Temple. Last night, Li Yubo mentioned that the mysterious folk organization specializing in the history of ancient Kang City was led by a high-ranking monk from the Wanshou Temple in Jinshan District.

  Wanshou Temple, built in the sixth year of Song Dynasty's Chunxi (1179), is one of the oldest temples in Shanghai. Wanshou Temple was originally built by Sun Quan, Emperor Wu of Eastern Wu during the Three Kingdoms period. It has been destroyed and rebuilt several times throughout history due to war. After the implementation of religious policies following reform and opening-up, Jinshan District government relocated and rebuilt it. The current address is No. 1148 Jinwei Village. It's not far from our residence, about 1.5 kilometers away, which takes only 20 minutes to walk at a leisurely pace.

  Arrived at the temple, I found that it was building some new houses. Thinking that I am not familiar with this place, I have to find someone to ask first. Suddenly, a young monk about my age passed by and I stopped him to ask, only then did I know that they were rebuilding the guest house and the abbot's quarters.

  I took out the 10,000 yuan I had just withdrawn from my pocket and said to the little monk that my family had a connection with this temple in the past and wanted to donate some merits. I asked if it was possible to meet with the abbot and establish a good relationship?

  Xiaosha listened to me with a sincere expression, and in his hand was another bright red gold and silver object. He agreed to help me ask around. After a while, he came back, saw me standing under the tree, walked over, touched my neck with his hand, and said: "Amitabha, benefactor, the abbot has gone out for an inspection today and is not in the temple. I'm afraid it will disappoint you." After speaking, he put his hands together and bowed.

  I hastily returned the courtesy and said: "Then I'll stay in the temple and wait for Master Fangzhang to return, and then I'll see him again."

  Xiaoyi saw that I was very polite and said with embarrassment: "The donor's heart is towards Buddhism, and his sincerity can be seen. However, all the guest rooms are currently under renovation, and there is really no place for the donor to rest. Moreover, it is unknown when the abbot will return, and the donor does not need to wait for a long time. The Buddha said that everything has its cause and effect, and everything is related. If this time there is no chance to see the abbot, there will be opportunities in the future. If the donor wants to worship Buddha for several days, it's better... to find an inn outside."

  I nodded and said, "Alright." Then I bid farewell and walked out of the Temple of Longevity. After wandering around on the street for a while, I found a small shop selling bedding, where I bought a quilt, a thin mattress, and a pillow. I bundled them up in big and small packages, carried them in my hand, and walked back to the Temple of Longevity.

  I found a quiet corner near the monk's quarters, spread out my bedding, put down my pillow, and opened up my quilt to lay it on the bed. I plopped myself down, lowered my head in contemplation, and didn't bother with the other tourists who were staring at me with a look of curiosity.

  After a while, that little monk happened to pass by and saw me in this state. He was shocked and hurriedly came up to ask what had happened.

  I was startled awake from my reverie, and upon looking up, I saw it was him. I hastily rose to my feet and bowed, saying: "Master, please don't blame me. I am sincere in my devotion to the Buddha and was afraid that if I stayed outside, I would miss the abbot's return. Master, you just said that all things arise from causes and conditions. I deeply agree with this view, but what kind of cause will lead to what kind of effect? If I wait here for a long time, this is the cause, and only then can I obtain the effect of meeting the abbot. Please forgive my rude behavior." I knew that when speaking to people, one should speak in their language, so in this ancient temple where the air was thick with tradition, even the young monks spoke in a half-literary, half-antiquated tone. So I brought out my old classical Chinese skills and engaged him in a long, drawn-out discussion.

  That little monk listened to me speaking like this, his face alternately red and white. After I finished speaking, he looked at me deeply and said: "The donor's heart in worshiping the Buddha is admired by the monk. The donor rests for a while, the monk will go and come back." After that, he joined his palms together to pay respects again.

  I hastily returned the courtesy, and saw him hurrying away, then hurried back, saying to me: "Please forgive me, Master. Today, the abbot was in the temple, but just now he was receiving a noble guest, so I had to decline your request to meet with you. However, seeing that you are so sincere, I reported back to the abbot, and he too was moved by what he heard. He invites you to come and have a conversation. Can you please forgive my earlier deception?"

  I was overjoyed when I heard this. In my mind, I thought that it was as expected. Just now, I saw the little monk touch his neck several times before saying that the abbot was not in the temple, which is a typical self-soothing behavior in behavioral psychology. Especially for monks who don't tell lies or speak deceitfully, this implies that what he says next may not be true. Telling lies makes his subconscious feel uneasy. So I used this method of sleeping on the streets, thinking it would take at least until tomorrow to work, but unexpectedly, just over an hour later, the situation changed.

  It seems that nowadays, the world is not as it used to be, and people's minds are restless. Those so-called good men and women who claim to come to worship Buddha, aren't they actually here seeking fortune, prosperity, and longevity? The abbots of these large temples must have seen many people like me before, holding a stack of stinky money and loudly demanding to see them, already fed up with it all. That's why most of them refuse to receive guests. Now, finally moved by my sincerity, he agreed to meet with me.

  "I hastily said: 'Very well, thank you very much. Please trouble yourself to show me the way.'"

  Xiaosha and I walked and chatted, his Dharma name is "Mingjue", he was a student of Shanghai Academy in 1999, it turns out that he is also the academic younger brother of the abbot of this temple. After graduation, he came here and is now the guest monk of the Western Sequence. Recently, I heard that because of his high education, he will soon be transferred to the Eastern Sequence as a Weina (leading the monks in the temple for Buddhist practice, in charge of the discipline and order of the monks). In a few more years, if he becomes the supervisor of the Eastern Sequence or is transferred back to the Western Sequence as the first seat of the front hall or the back hall, he will be only one step away from the position of abbot.

  As I gaze at the wildflowers by the roadside, my heart is filled with emotion. The Buddha said that all living beings are equal, but within the Buddhist community, there are also many levels of hierarchy. Not to mention in China, even in India, where Buddhism originated, the caste system is like a sword of Damocles hanging over people's heads. In fact, since Emperor Wen of Sui established the imperial examination system, it has provided a relatively fair and reasonable path for lower-class citizens to enter the upper class. In India, let alone the Shudra, even if a Vaishya wants to rise to the Brahmin caste, he must first hold his hands crossed above his head, unable to sit or lie down, and even sleep standing up, persisting for 20 years; then undergo the water test - actually being submerged in a pig cage for 45 minutes. If you come out alive, you can further endure the fire test - standing in a pile of flames for 30 minutes. If you're still alive, congratulations, you can become a Brahmin! You also realize that this is an impossible task, and its purpose is to tell you that being a Brahmin is innate, inherited, and as a person, it's impossible to become one through your own efforts. Even if you're incredibly capable, I estimate you still won't be able to pass on the title of Brahmin after enjoying it with a severely injured and disabled body, unable to transmit this title to future generations.

  This is the fact. The difference in status, the distinction between superior and inferior, seems to be impossible to erase in human history. Just like me, a loser, no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to reverse my fate, become a rich and handsome guy, win the admiration of beautiful women, but can only gain some spiritual victories in one YY book after another, one soap opera after another.

  That little monk named Ming Jue may not have expected that in this solemn and majestic Buddhist temple, I would come up with so many random thoughts. From what he said, it seems that he also wants to rise high, but after all, being immersed in the Buddha's teachings for many years has worn away his worldly ambitions. As I steal a glance at him, I see him chanting Buddhist scriptures and walking lightly on the winding path amidst the lush greenery, and for a moment, I couldn't help but feel some envy towards his carefree life.