Episode 010: A Thousand Kowtows Summon the Buddha

Chapter Title: 010 Gather One Thousand Kowtows to Summon the Buddha

Within the solemn main hall, before the sacred statue of the Buddha, Master Fang led the young monks to line up, palms pressed together in a reverent gesture. “Amitabha.”

At the very front, Yin Chunzhi’s eyes suddenly widened in astonishment. To think, even the most renowned brothel in Shengjing could not compare to such exquisite beauty as these. With their heads shaved, the delicate features of each young monk stood out even more clearly.

“You…” Yin Chunzhi began, already intent on making one of them his own. But before he could finish, Master Fang interrupted him.

“Amitabha, Benefactor, there is no need to say more—everything lies within the Buddha’s heart.”

Yin Chunzhi smiled. Good, as long as you understand, things will go smoothly.

Master Fang signaled him to wait, then turned to summon Jietang. “This is Master Jietang, of our temple’s Western Hall, devoted to serving the Child-Giving Guanyin. Each day, he recites sutras a thousand times before placing a single stitch, and after eighty-one arduous days, he crafts a holy child in accordance with Guanyin’s divine will. This sacred child, pure and radiant, is imbued with the essence of the sutras and the spirit of Guanyin herself. If worn for long, the blessing of a child will soon be—”

“I want it!” The First Lady of the household was the first to react.

“We want one too!” The other ladies, not to be outdone, responded in unison.

A look of difficulty crossed Master Fang’s face. “Amitabha, as of now, Master Jietang has only managed to craft one such sacred child…”

“I’ll offer one hundred taels,” the Second Lady cut in, quick to act.

“I’ll give two hundred!” The First Lady immediately doubled the offer.

“Three hundred!” “Four hundred!” The Third, Fourth, and others raised the stakes one after another.

“Four hundred it is!” Yin Chunzhi’s face fell. Damn these spendthrift women—no matter how high the price rises, it’s always him who pays in the end! Do they think his blood is water?

“Amitabha, Benefactor, your wisdom will surely bring you the blessing of a child soon.” Master Fang’s smile was dazzling.

Yin Chunzhi’s eyes inexplicably ached, and his mood to sponsor a young monk vanished. “Enough, bring it over.”

Master Fang pressed his palms together in thanks, then instructed, “Master Jietang, please escort the benefactors to receive the sacred child.”

Jietang raised an eyebrow—what sacred child? Master Fang merely winked: the rain doll you made for Jierou last year, the one hanging from the eaves of the side hall!

As Yin Chunzhi and his party left the main hall, Master Fang stepped up to Fu Dagui. “Ami—”

Fu Dagui clutched his money pouch and stepped back. “I seek only fortune with sincerity; I would never insult the Buddha with the stink of coin.”

“Amitabha, well said, Benefactor.” Master Fang’s smile was as benevolent as Maitreya’s. “As it is written in the scriptures: To seek wealth, first build the road. Benefactor, have you built your road?”

“Uh… what road?” Fu Dagui asked.

Master Fang spread his hands, gesturing to the towering golden image of Shakyamuni Buddha. “Naturally, the Road to Divine Fortune!”

Following Master Fang’s gesture, Fu Dagui looked up at the shining golden head of the statue, trembling as he asked, “And when it’s built?”

Master Fang’s hands traced the outline of the Buddha’s form as they slid down. “By ascending the steps of the Road to Divine Fortune, you can receive, at any time, from any angle, the Buddha’s divine wealth energy—up close and personal!”

“Excellent! How do I build it?” Fu Dagui exclaimed.

Master Fang turned and introduced Jietang. “This is Master Jietang, the abbot of our temple devoted to Shakyamuni Buddha. Do not be deceived by his youth—he was born with extraordinary strength. As long as you provide the blueprints and materials, he guarantees a custom-designed, exclusive VVIP Road to Divine Fortune within three days!”

Jietang bowed. “Benefactor, if you will please follow me.”

Master Fang nodded slightly—rainy season is approaching, remember to repair those leaking outhouses as well.

Understood! Jietang led Fu Dagui away.

Turning back, Master Fang saw that the commoners—traders and laborers—had retreated a full ten feet, standing in wary formation with their baskets. Though they longed for marriage and lovely wives, reason prevailed: livelihood must come first. With no sales yet today, their only loose change had just been spent on incense. If pressed for more, they would rather give up their hopes of matrimony.

Perceptively, Master Fang offered a gentle smile. “Benefactors, the Buddha’s words are true: Sincerity brings blessings. The Buddha treasures each of your devout wishes.”

With that, Master Fang moved to address the next group. The commoners stood dumbfounded—was it really this easy to be spared? Truly, a virtuous monk…

The word “monk” had barely formed before Master Fang spun back. “But the Buddha’s memory is not always steadfast. For example, when he is hungry, he might…”

“I’ll offer the Buddha an apple!” someone responded at once. Others followed: “I’ll bring him pastries!” “I’ll offer candied fruit!”

All at once, the previously silent commoners vied to present their offerings. Though their money was scarce, each could still part with two items from their baskets. For the sake of a wife, it was worth it!

Master Fang signaled to Jierou to help arrange the offerings on the table.

As Jierou approached, Master Fang murmured quietly, “Pick the half-ripe fruit—it keeps longer. Choose the largest pastries—the most filling. As for the candied fruit…”

“I understand, Abbot,” Jierou replied in a hushed voice. “I’ll pick the ones with more flesh and no pits.” And I’ll make that candied fruit seller give us double, since he was the one who just ogled my bottom! Hmph, does he think a change of clothes can fool me? I know that scent of candied fruit anywhere.

Another round, successfully handled!

Master Fang turned, satisfied. But no sooner had she done so than a flamboyant group of courtesans, joined by beggars in flashy, tasseled garb, surged forward. They were truly penniless—one group hoping for a patron for life, the other satisfied with leftover scraps.

But seeing how things were going, it seemed that without a further offering, their wishes would go unfulfilled. Thus, they could only—

“Abbot, Xiaoguai’s waist skills are the best in all of Chuguan House. Surely Buddha would love them.”

“Abbot, what use is a skilled waist compared to a talented mouth? Buddha would surely prefer Ashuai’s mouth.”

“Abbot, what’s the point in mouths? I offer Buddha this tooth, lost by the late emperor himself during a secret journey among the people!”

“Abbot, his tooth is a fake! I present this patch, truly torn from the late emperor’s robe by a branch on that very same journey!”

As the situation threatened to spiral out of control, Master Fang had no choice but to step forward, palms raised to block the approaching hands and grasping paws, and called out loudly, “Amitabha, benefactors! The Buddha said: All is emptiness. He also said: Form is emptiness and emptiness is form. Since you already offer emptiness to the Buddha, why worry your wishes will not be granted?”

So simple? Could it be they were truly being spared?

The crowd froze. Master Fang took the opportunity to step back, his gaze sweeping over the courtesans and beggars, and then to the loitering ruffians who seemed to be surveying the grounds. These people had no money and were not to be trifled with—one wrong move and trouble would follow.

Thus, she could only resort to her trump card.

“Amitabha!” Master Fang abruptly returned to the prayer mat before the Buddha, sat cross-legged, and announced, “Before the old abbot passed away, he confided in me: If you can gather one thousand reverberating kowtows before the Buddha, you may summon the Buddha in a dream.”

With that, Master Fang closed her eyes. In her heart, she thought: With so many people, each offering a thousand kowtows, even the imperial Daoist temple at the foot of the mountain couldn’t match such grandeur. With this as our foundation, how could we ever lack worshippers again?

Master Fang’s mind brimmed with visions of bustling crowds at Fahua Temple in the days to come. But she waited and waited, yet no sound of kowtowing came.

Puzzled, she opened her eyes—only to be confronted by a riotous cluster of sunflowers. It was the hem of someone’s robe.

Raising her gaze, a charming face filled her vision.

Many thanks to those who gifted Qingye on November 30th (in no particular order): 2568751845, Stinky Egg Haha, xiaoyue2006, Lord Xi Bingcheng, Wind Spirit Flavorless, Ke LK, Empress Song1977, and Bite an Apple to Truly Revive.

Thank you all for your support. Next time, please come empty-handed and join the comments section~

Also, heartfelt thanks to everyone who left a message or quietly added to their collections!

P.S. Dear Zhao Jinlu and Lu Kui, the character you requested (The Flamboyant Jin) will make a dazzling entrance in the next chapter!

This novel is first published here.