Chapter 11: This Humble Monk Refuses to Be a Loyal Dog

Chapter Title: 011—I Will Not Play the Loyal Dog

The master of the Chukwan Pavilion in Shengjing City: Mu Zhijin.

A face wholly masculine.

High cheekbones, a sharply defined jawline, and a prominent Adam’s apple.

Yet, he wore heavy eyeshadow. The deep indigo traced along his elongated eyes and swept upward, diffusing like morning mist into his temples and hairline.

Seduction emanated naturally.

Like a bottomless vortex, it drew every gaze into its depths.

Who could even remember the thousand prostrations they were supposed to perform?

Fang Rulai stared just as intently, but not out of fascination. Having already endured the extremes of K-pop-inspired makeup and the dazzling allure of local magnates, the sight before her only earned an objective nod. She was simply calculating how best to drive this apparent troublemaker out of the temple as swiftly as possible.

While Fang Rulai pondered, Mu Zhijin was quietly surprised. In Shengjing City, there were few who could resist his seductive charm—countable on a single hand.

It seemed he would have to exert himself further if he wished his plan to succeed.

“Master Rulai?” Mu Zhijin spoke gently, his voice soft and plush as a kitten’s paw scratching at the heart.

A collective sigh swept through the hall, a sigh so comfortable it made one want to lie down and sleep.

Well, there was no hope now that anyone would remember the matter of the thousand prostrations. Clearly, this man was here to disrupt things! Fang Rulai, displeased, struck her wooden fish, “Amitabha. I am indeed the humble monk. If you have something to say, please speak.”

Mu Zhijin leaned in, his voluminous robe sleeve folding over Fang Rulai’s arm, forcing her to lean back to avoid an awkwardly close encounter.

Mu Zhijin’s smile deepened. “Does gathering a thousand prostrations truly summon the Buddha into one’s dreams?”

Fang Rulai’s gaze was resolute. “Of course.” It does not.

Mu Zhijin pressed closer. “But Zhijin lives amidst brothels and pleasure houses. How could I bear to let the Buddha be tainted by such worldly red?”

Fang Rulai’s neck nearly tilted to its limit. “Amitabha, those who cultivate Buddhism are without color or form. Such earthly reds do not cling to them.”

Mu Zhijin leisurely lifted one brow, full of provocation. “Does Master Rulai also possess such detachment?”

“Certainly.” Fang Rulai would not retreat. In such a public setting, any concession would invite accusations of impurity or guilty conscience.

Mu Zhijin’s smile widened further. Just as the crowd felt as if they were witnessing a thousand sunflowers in full bloom, Fang Rulai alone caught a hint of coldness deep in his eyes.

Trouble—she’d fallen into his trap!

Just as Fang Rulai realized this, Mu Zhijin’s lips drew close to her ear.

“Then, might Master Rulai come to my humble abode to preach and chant, so that the less fortunate brothers who cannot visit may also receive the Buddha’s blessing?”

So this was where he’d been waiting for her. Fang Rulai felt a sudden chill.

He had anticipated that if he invited her to Chukwan Pavilion directly, she would surely refuse. So he ensnared her step by step. Truly a mind full of cunning.

Unfortunately, he mistook her for the compliant Mr. Zhou, while she would never be the loyal dog Huang.

“Amitabha, spreading the Dharma and saving all beings is indeed my duty. I ought not to refuse,” Fang Rulai’s gaze fell to Mu Zhijin’s sunflower-patterned sleeve draped over her arm, and she spoke softly, “However, the Temple of the Lotus Sutra has recently been struggling financially, so I…”

“One thousand taels!” Mu Zhijin quickly whispered, slipping a banknote for one thousand taels into her hand, concealed by the robe sleeve.

“Deal.” Fang Rulai accepted without pause. “When?”

“The sooner the better.” A trace of disdain flickered in Mu Zhijin’s eyes. Was this the renowned monk whom that foolish Guan had so desperately insisted on marrying? Was he not just another flower monk swayed by money and pleasure?

Fang Rulai straightened. “Please wait, I’ll fetch the necessary tools from my room.”

“Zhijin will send a small sedan to wait at the abbot’s door,” Mu Zhijin followed, laughing inwardly; with success so close, how could she let Fang Rulai escape?

Inside the abbot’s room, Jie Tang closed the outer door, his face full of disapproval.

“We don’t truly need that thousand taels.”

“I know.”

“Then why—?”

“Sister Xishi is in their hands.” Fang Rulai began layering her recently discarded autumn clothes beneath her monk’s robe. “When I touched that person’s sleeve just now…”

Her intent had been to sense any useful information to quickly rid the temple of this troublemaker, but instead, she heard the sleeve whisper:

‘Master, rest assured. You needn’t use that widow butcher; Zhijin will bring the little monk to you alive.’

Who the master was remained unclear, but the widow butcher could only be Zhu Xishi in all Shengjing.

Thus, she had no choice but to make this trip for Zhu Xishi’s sake.

Fang Rulai emerged from the inner room, pressing the banknote into Jie Tang’s hand. “Keep this safe. If I…well, then you all will…”

Jie Tang pulled her back sharply. “Let me go instead.”

Fang Rulai shook her head calmly. “Do you think, once I leave the temple, those of you with the land deed in hand will be any safer than I?”

“No, but I…”

Jie Tang paced anxiously, while Fang Rulai’s eyes warmed as she patted his head. “Thank you, Jie Tang.”

“You…”

“It’s settled. Just look after the temple. I’ll return as soon as I can.” Fang Rulai adjusted the false Adam’s apple beneath her high collar, drew a deep breath, and flung open the door.

Flamboyant young courtesans immediately filled her view.

At their center stood the seductive Mu Zhijin.

Seeing Fang Rulai emerge, Mu Zhijin stepped forward.

But as he raised his foot, Fang Rulai suddenly lifted both hands, holding aloft a small golden statue.

A gleaming Buddha Shakyamuni.

“Amitabha, with the Buddha traveling, demons and monsters retreat!”

Jie Tang solemnly appeared behind Fang Rulai, scattering a handful of salt onto the ground before her.

Fang Rulai knelt devoutly. “Amitabha.”

Mu Zhijin hesitated, then moved forward, intent on stopping her. If the monk knelt all the way to Chukwan Pavilion, the master waiting inside might…

But Fang Rulai didn’t wait for him to speak. She quickly rose, took three steps forward, and knelt again, right at Mu Zhijin’s feet.

“Amitabha. Since you seek the Buddha’s blessing so earnestly, how can you be careless or slack?” Today, she must see the thousand prostrations through.

Mu Zhijin suddenly felt a sense of unease.

Without looking at him, Fang Rulai rose, moved forward three steps, and knelt again. “Amitabha, today this humble monk will perform the thousand prostrations on your behalf to summon the Buddha into your dreams.”

Exactly as he suspected! Mu Zhijin’s gaze sharpened. This little monk was not to be underestimated. She feigned agreement to swindle his money, then turned the tables before leaving. She had calculated that at this juncture, he dared not act rashly.

Mu Zhijin spun around as Fang Rulai, dignified and solemn, was already kneeling at the courtyard gate. Around her, a crowd of onlookers from all walks of life watched the spectacle.

Initially, they treated it as entertainment, but as they witnessed Fang Rulai respectfully carrying the Buddha statue and prostrating with devotion, an involuntary thought arose: Could it truly work?

Everyone shares this blind spot—if they cannot believe, it’s only because the deception isn’t deep enough.

Thus, courtesans and beggars with a mind to seek the Buddha began kneeling in succession.

No one observed Fang Rulai’s sly smile after each kneeling: They think her a monkey? She may be a monkey, but she’s the Monkey King!

Mu Zhijin had to halt his attempt to seize her; with so many eyes and mouths, he could not risk it.

But once they left the temple, crossing into the deserted hills behind, he…

Many thanks to those who helped Qingye ascend the flower rankings at the start of the month (in no particular order):

Ke lk, Lord Xi Bing, 2568751845, Tangyuan Stewed Meat, 13916714944, Fengling Wuwei, Xi Pipi, White Hair in Red Robe.

Thank you all for your support!

Qingye will strive ever harder!

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