The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 469: Which powerful person took these clay sculptures away?
Shen Le grunted and jumped up and down. Sometimes he stood up, sometimes he squatted, sometimes he sat on the ground, and sometimes he lay down...

After paying the price of having three sets of clothes rolled into rags and torn to the point of being unwearable, I finally completed the repair of this batch of clay sculptures of monsters and demons.

In other words, it is to heal the wounds and relieve the pain of these monsters and ghosts. Those knife wounds, arrow wounds, gunshot wounds, hammer wounds, horse hoof wounds...

Those broken limbs, broken bones, broken heads, intestines hanging out of the belly...

One by one, he lifted them up, arranged them, and gathered them together. Finally, at least on the surface of the body, they disappeared, and the appearance of the clay sculptures was arranged to be the same as that of normal people, no, normal deceased people.

As he sorted them out one by one, the vibrations coming from these clay sculptures gradually became softer and calmer.

The roars, screams, and wails that once echoed gradually weakened and disappeared.

It was just like, hundreds of years ago, those warriors who fought on the battlefield were gathered and buried...

Of course, such order and tranquility are not just the result of Shen Le’s efforts.

From beginning to end, the young monk Nengqian sat quietly beside him, twirling his Buddhist beads and chanting sutras endlessly. He chanted as long as Shen Le took to repair the temple:
This perseverance and persistence made Shen Le particularly want to ask:
Is it true that you won’t get hemorrhoids if you sit for so long?

"Ah...finally done..."

He put down the brush in his hand, cast one last spell, felt the paint solidifying on the clay sculpture, and stretched lazily with satisfaction.

Then, he quickly bent down, holding a handful of incense sticks, and began to replace the incense sticks in the incense burner one by one:
"It's okay. I have already patched up the imperfections on your bodies."

"The battle is over. It has been over for hundreds of years. Whoever you are trying to drive away is over."

"Thank you for your hard work before... Thank you... Thank you... Thank you..."

"Now, our life is already very happy... You can take a look... take a good look..."

While whispering a prayer, he walked forward beside the clay sculptures and inserted new incense into the incense burner at the foot of each clay sculpture.

After young monk Nengqian finished reciting the scriptures, he opened his eyes and looked at him, then turned his head to look at the row of televisions hanging on the wall of the studio.

And the endless programs on TV are also speechless:
"...Is it useful for you to do this? Do you want to save them? They don't need to be saved anymore!"

These clay sculptures are just clay sculptures! There is no complete soul attached to them!
After chanting sutras in the studio for so many days, he could clearly feel that it was impossible for these clay sculptures to be possessed by ghosts or that they were ghosts.

Echoing in these clay sculptures, there is no such thing as memory or emotion. Only the reverberation of regrets and some of the most profound and unforgettable moments remain.

After a long period of gestation, these regrets, the spiritual energy of mountains and rivers, and the passing of time, intertwined into a little bit of vague, nascent spirituality.

To expect these spirits to watch TV and understand these programs is a joke! They don’t even have reason! They are not alive!

They were just clay sculptures, and they couldn't even receive incense and prayers. Even though Shen Le offered incense to them one by one, the incense and prayers he could provide were basically nothing...

"I don't know if I can save the soul!" Shen Le said confidently:
"But this is the only thing I can do for them! What if it can make them feel better?"

"You... okay, as long as you are happy." Neng Qian shook his head, stood up holding the Buddhist beads, and put his hands together:
"Since the restoration work has been completed, I will take my leave. Next time, if you have any pain or sorrow that needs to be relieved, please be sure to contact me."

"Wait! I haven't treated you to a meal yet!" Shen Le jumped over to stop him:

"At least let me treat you to a vegetarian meal! It's not even noon yet! We have to eat!"

"No, there is a Dharma Assembly at noon today, I have to go back to prepare." Neng Qian bowed again and turned around. Shen Le was in a hurry and quickly poured a glass of water over:

"At least have a glass of water? You've been reciting the scriptures for such a long time without stopping. Aren't you thirsty?"

Neng Qian: “…”

How much mana have I consumed after reciting the scriptures for so long?

How much energy have you spent listening to the voices of these residual souls and communicating with them?
Haven't you ever thought about these? You just ask me if I'm thirsty?
In an instant, this compassionate Buddhist who had become a monk since childhood and devoted himself to Buddhism also had the ridiculous feeling of "I said I kill people without blinking, and you ask me if my eyes are dry."

He said goodbye calmly and left. This kind of salvation work is an excellent opportunity for Buddhist practitioners to hone their Buddha power and accumulate merits.

He had been chanting sutras for dozens of days here with Shen Le, and indeed he had made great progress, and his understanding of Buddhism had also deepened. He urgently needed to go back and sort it out and digest it.

Sigh, I hope that Mr. Shen will look for more of these in the future, people who are suffering, have blood feuds, and need salvation, so that he can get a chance to work with them, Amitabha…

Shen Le reluctantly sent him out. This young monk was chanting sutras here, and he really brought his own food and worked very hard:

He even declined the vegetarian meal sent by the boss lady!

The reason is that it is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but difficult to go from luxury to frugality. He couldn't afford such high-standard spiritual food by himself, so he simply didn't eat it.

Moreover, when he chanted the Buddha's name, he consumed mainly his thoughts, and he didn't rely on spiritual food to sustain his energy anyway...

Oh, it would be nice if there were more such eminent monks. Of course, it would be even better if the shrine could absorb a lot of the scattered Buddha power and help with salvation in the future.

"Hey, speaking of which, do you want to go to the Yuantong Zen Temple next door to offer sacrifices for a while?" He knocked on the Buddhist shrine.

With such a small population in the mansion, the power growth is too slow. He himself does not worship Buddha, and the little ones have never seen anyone worship Buddha. How can he only rely on Luoqun?

The skirt and the shrine are one piece! The inner loop belongs to...

It's not that it's not possible to rely solely on domestic demand to drive growth, but without the participation of external forces, the efficiency is a bit low, right?
Although the Yuantong Zen Temple next door is not very popular, it is relatively close. If you want to find a place with strong incense, you can find it there. In that case, Shen Le will have to pay a favor and ask the Special Affairs Bureau to act as a matchmaker.

The most important thing is that the altar should be placed in a place with abundant incense. The altar cannot be used for work in the morning, get off work in the evening, go home for the night, or have a weekend off...

There was no sound in the shrine, not even the sound of the bells. Only a graceful figure in a silk dress came floating in:

[It said no. It said that the people in the temple outside were too chaotic and it would not be good for it, so it would be better to stay at home and recite the sutras slowly.]

what……

Is this the power of faith, and the poison of faith?

Yes, the Chinese people’s beliefs are well-known for being “it doesn’t cost money anyway, so just believe in it a little bit.”

Among 10,000 people who come to worship Buddha in a temple, there may be 8,000 who say, "Today is a nice day, the temple is nice, let's take a walk and practice Tai Chi."
There are 2,000 left, and 1,500 "asking for promotion, salary increase, vacation, luck", etc., all kinds of messy desires;
To be able to have 500 pure thoughts and be able to provide authentic Buddhist power is something we should be thankful for and it is very touching.

For the Buddhist shrine, the power it receives from being worshipped may not be enough to remove impurities?

Shen Le thought about it and decided not to force it. He sat cross-legged in front of the clay figurines, unfolded his spiritual power, and slowly enveloped the clay figurines:
Hey, it’s all fixed, at least the main body is fixed. You should give me some new work, right?

For example, can you let me see the power veins and talismans in your body more clearly, so that I can see how you absorb power and how you transmit it through the earth vein nodes?

How do we identify directions and find nodes in the earth veins?

I can use the copper piece to show you the direction. When I'm not around, you should know how to go by yourselves, right?

The spiritual power was like clouds and mist, floating in the air, hanging on the heads of each clay figurine and seeping into their bodies.

Gradually, this group of clay figurines seemed to come alive, began to breathe, began to look up at the world, and began to make their first cry and their first laugh.

Shen Le couldn't help but smile slightly and leaned towards them:

Are you awake?
Do you see this world?

Do you like this world?

Invisible and intangible power gradually surged throughout the room. Shen Le smiled, and felt himself slowly sinking, as if he were sinking into the bottom of the water, or sinking into a warm embrace:
what is this?
Is the clay figurine going to take me away again?

Take me somewhere for a spin and then bring me back?

This time, more parts have been repaired. Can the clay figurines travel farther, or walk faster and more accurately?
Or maybe, this time, it is the memories that the clay figurine once possessed that are being transmitted to me?

No matter what memory it is, please don't let me get married again!
Don’t even let me enter the bridal chamber!

begging!
Watching a wedding is fine, but being there in person in the bridal chamber is unbearable...

Shen Le was thinking about random things silently. His body gradually sank, then gradually floated up, and then he felt that his whole body was being covered with something, piece by piece, again and again:

what's the situation?
He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a dark tile-roofed house. The house was not tall or spacious, but fortunately it was not shabby. Judging from the sky and the direction of the light, it looked like a row of houses.

The three rooms on the left and right of the house, as well as the courtyard, were all busy. In the middle of the courtyard, two apprentices, about seven or eight years old, were bare-chested, with steam rising from their foreheads, grunting as they carried a bucket of water over.

Two slightly older apprentices stood face to face, holding a square plate tightly in their four hands, shaking it left and right, and sifting the soil vigorously.

In the yard, a fifteen or sixteen-year-old apprentice was stirring the soil, and from time to time he looked up and shouted:
"Push harder! Push harder! I told you to push harder, not to shake the mud out!

All this mud was dug with great effort, dried, and sieved after weeds, stones, and clods of earth were removed. Now I’ve shaken it all out for you. You have to start from scratch!!!”

After shouting a few words, he lowered his head again and stirred the wooden box vigorously with a stick. Every time he stirred, his muscles bulged, his waist, legs and arms worked together, and he gritted his teeth;

Shen Le looked in the direction of his force and saw a box of fine soil mixed with a lot of straw and cotton. The boy was trying to stir them until the fibers and soil were fully mixed.

Only when the soil is stirred evenly and vigorously, and the fibers are mixed into every corner of the soil, can the soil be provided with the greatest binding and supporting force.
The fine mud made in this way can have a fine and smooth surface and be easy to color;

Only then the inside will be flexible and strong, and various parts such as fingers, noses, ears, lapels and ribbons can be pinched out, and only then will it be flexible and natural without being unable to withstand the force.

The clay is of high quality, and the clay sculptures made from it can last for hundreds of years, if not a thousand years.

The quality of the clay is poor, and any clay sculpture you make will crack and break in ten or twenty years. By that time, even if the craftsmen and the temples are still there, who will hire you to work for them?
They won't hire you, your children, or your apprentices. You won't get any work in this field, and you'll starve to death, or you'll go from being a master chef to an apprentice and work for others!

He was mixing fine mud here, and some other apprentices were busy sifting soil, sifting sand, and crushing pebbles.

Mix soil with straw and cotton into fine mud; mix soil with a certain amount of fine sand and gravel, add jute, ramie, etc., and mix into coarse mud.

"Oh, this job is too tiring." Shen Le shook his head, feeling very sympathetic.

If it were in his studio, why would it be so troublesome?
After the samples were sent over, our junior students measured the proportions of various materials and placed orders;
After the raw materials arrive, weigh them according to the proportion, throw them into the blender, and set the time. You can get coarse mud if you want coarse mud, or fine mud if you want fine mud. What, the mud is not strong enough?
If it's not strong enough, either you added too much water or too little water, or the stirring time or speed is wrong.

Anyway, Shen Le didn't restrict them from spending money, so they just opened a few more groups and tried their best, and they would eventually be able to try out the clay they needed!
But this was not possible in ancient times, everything had to be done manually.

The apprentices were sweating profusely while working. Even though it was late autumn with yellow leaves falling, they were all shirtless or wearing thin clothes, and their bodies were steaming.
Even so, he was still urged and scolded by his master:
"hurry up!"

"Didn't you eat?"

"Look at what you're doing. You're using this kind of mud to make a statue. Do you want to be struck by lightning?"

The apprentices took on the heaviest physical work, and the masters were not relaxed either. The coarse and fine mud that had been mixed were sent to the room, and the masters in the room did the work:
Some people follow the design and make wooden, bamboo or rattan frames, or tie straw on wooden, bamboo or rattan frames;

Some people apply rough clay layer by layer on the finished base, and trim it layer by layer, trimming the entire clay sculpture into a rough shape, and then polish the surface of the clay to make it smooth;

The master craftsmen with better skills will apply fine mud layer by layer on the surface where the coarse mud is almost dry and scrape the surface to make it smooth.

When the fine mud is about to dry, chalk, calcite, gypsum and other clay materials are used to make the base layer, and then paint the eyebrows and eyes, and draw the clothes for these clay sculptures...

Shen Le watched in fascination. These old masters, their skills were much better than his own:
Pinching a finger or an ear requires repeated measurements and comparisons. Sometimes it is crooked, sometimes it is cracked, and sometimes the shape is not right.

These old masters stretched out their hands, which were as thick as carrots, dry and cracked worse than their own heels, and their nails and fingerprints were deeply embedded with mud stains.

However, they fluttered their hands, and with just a little rubbing, pinching, rolling, and pressing, a clay flower was gently held in their hands and fell on the clay sculpture's hair;

With just a gentle press or scratch with a bamboo stick, layers of scales appear on the neck of the clay horse.

Shen Le estimated that it would take him, probably, perhaps, possibly, at least ten years to practice to this level?

It has to be a full-load, full-state ten years. Ten years have to be spent entirely on clay sculpture, and no time can be spent on panning, sifting, mixing, etc.

Clay sculptures were formed one after another by the hands of the masters, including ghosts with severed heads, severed hands, disemboweled stomachs, and pierced chests.

After one is completed, it is sent to the front room to dry in the shade. After the next one is completed, it is sent there to dry in the shade.

When all the clay sculptures were completed, a large group of people came and carried them to the front hall, and then found a side hall to put them down:

In front of each clay sculpture, there is a specially customized tablet with words such as "Judge and Deacon of the Yansu Department", "Deacon of the Speedy Report Department", "Servant of the City God Temple", and "Servant" written on it.

On that day, the entire temple was decorated with red and colorful decorations, and was crowded with people.

Large numbers of people came in groups, burning incense and kowtowing before these clay sculptures:

"Lieutenant General Liu... Thank you so much for saving my child... You little bastard, kowtow to Lieutenant General Liu! Kowtow!"

"General Wang... Thank you for killing that Tartar... Without you, my wife would have been taken away by them..."

"Captain Li... the robe you asked me to mend has finally been mended today... Please put it on, put it on... In the future, we will burn incense every day, make offerings every month, and change your robe every year!"

Strange, why not give their real names?
Why not remember them by their true identities, but instead use these gods' names?

Are there any taboos in this?

Shen Le turned around curiously. Suddenly, there was a thunderous sound of horse hooves outside, and a cavalry team came rushing in and stopped at the gate.

Soon, a group of rough-looking Tartars wearing fur coats and with rat tails on their heads strode in:

"What are you doing?"

"Sir, a new side hall has been opened in the City God Temple today. Everyone come over to burn incense and pray for good luck." The temple keeper bowed and followed closely.

The Tartar looked at it from a distance and wanted to go in, but as soon as he stepped into the palace door, he was driven back by the smoke:

In the incense burner in front of the clay sculpture, various colored incense sticks of different sizes and heights were burning, creating a thick cloud of smoke. It was impossible to see the faces of people across the hall!
Long incense sticks that are taller than a person's head and as thick as a finger, or sandalwood that emits a faint fragrance, or yellow grass fragrance that is more than half a foot long and falls apart with every step you take...

They were so densely packed that they filled all the incense burners, and the cast iron walls of the incense burners turned red.

Shen Le was just a memory, not his physical body, so he wasn't so choked that he covered his face and ran away.

The Tartar couldn't bear this torture, so he took out a few god tablets, took a look at them, and snorted:
"It better be this way!"

He waved his sleeves and left. As they came and went, the whole side hall fell into silence. Everyone lowered their heads and didn't look at them, but they all quietly clenched their fists.

He walked around the side hall, listened to the people's prayers, looked at the scarred clay sculptures, and sighed deeply:
"Ugh……"

These soldiers may be local soldiers or they may be stationed here from other places. They fought, they sacrificed, and they are buried here.

The people here, because the Tartars will still come and trample on the officials and bully them, use this method to commemorate them and express their gratitude to them...

However, no matter how sincere and long-lasting the people's gratitude is, there is always a limit. One year, two years, eight years, ten years, twenty years, fifty years...

This generation passed away, and so did the next. Gradually, those warriors, those heroic souls in the people’s memories, became just names, and then gradually they even lost their names, buried behind the statues.

The Taoist temple was deserted, the halls were dilapidated, and the clay sculptures were tilted. Finally, in the middle of the night, a dark shadow walked in and reached out to the clay sculptures:
"Come with me..."

Shadowlessly, it seemed as if black smoke was rising from the clay sculpture, following the black shadow and moving away.

Soon, another group of porters arrived and lifted up all the clay sculptures and carried them away to a new large house.
A new group of craftsmen applied new layers of clay to the clay sculptures, painted them with new paint, and dressed them up in a new look:

"Go to sleep, have a good sleep. When you wake up, you will find that you have many new companions..."

Huh?
So who is this?
Is it the local deity?
Or maybe the local monster?

Being able to deal with so many demons and gather them together, this person must be very powerful!
The black shadow kept wandering in the mountains, gathering all kinds of monsters. The owner of a rooster that he had raised for ten years said it was unlucky and should be slaughtered. The rooster spread its wings and flew into the mountains, and he took it in.
The old cow that has been raised for twenty years is becoming more and more energetic and bigger, occupying the entire cowshed.

The owner thought it was strange, but he didn't dare to kill it, so he drove it out of the village. The old cow walked into the mountains and was taken in by him.
He worshipped the moon and practiced with a skull on his head, swallowing and spitting out moonlight, but he failed. A fox spirit that was killed by a dog more than a hundred years ago, its ghost was wandering around in the mountains, and he took it in.
After biting the fox spirit to death and eating its flesh, he also gained some skills and went into the mountains to take in an old dog;
All kinds of mountain spirits, water monsters, and ghosts formed a small court under his command.

The ruler of the mountains and forests specially invited skilled craftsmen to make clay statues for them and built temples for them, which were placed in the mountains to receive incense.

Because the temple is efficacious, people come to burn incense, pray for wealth, seek official positions, pray for children, pray for longevity, and pray for recovery from illness. There is an endless stream of people...

"Is this really possible?"

Shen Le turned around curiously. The memories passed on to him by the clay sculptures were incomplete. He did not see these clay sculptures become spirits and follow the god around to do work;
However, the aura of the clay sculpture has indeed been rising and getting higher.

Until a little girl quietly walked into the temple and lit a stick of incense for the deity in the main hall...

　Thanks to @daviry for the 500 starting coins

　　
　
(End of this chapter)