Welcome to the Bizarre Games

Chapter 544 Merit
Seeing the hot soup flowing down, the fat monk finally breathed a sigh of relief and then called out.

"What are you all standing there for? Can't you see the Prajna Elixir is flowing down? Hurry up and find a jar to collect it!"

The novice monks immediately got busy, but strangely enough, even though the two people who went into the furnace were so big, the meat soup that was finally made was less than half a pot.

But the fat monk still took it himself, carefully placed it on the ground, and then scooped a small spoonful from another large pot of boiling soup.

instant.

That ordinary stew immediately became fragrant and incredibly tempting.

Upon smelling the fragrance, several novice monks couldn't help but swallow hard. However, the fat monk glared at him fiercely and said in a muffled voice.

"What are you all craving? This is for those refugees. Do you want to become two-legged sheep who accumulate merit? Then I don't mind letting you have a few bites now."

After those words, all the novice monks fell silent, shivering with fear, and no one dared to look at them again.

However, the fat monk was too lazy to pay attention. He divided the Prajna paste into several other pots, stirred it casually a few times, and then waved his hand, telling people to carry it to the refugees.

At this point, the earthenware pot still contained more than half of the contents.

However, these were not for those pitiful Jianmin. As the head of the entire kitchen and the most important link in the temple, the fat monk exhaled a breath of stale air, rolled up his sleeves, first told the group of novices to step aside, and then personally chopped vegetables, minced meat, and put them into the pot, carefully preparing them himself.

Frying, stir-frying, cooking, deep-frying—it's clear that this fat monk is quite skilled. He seems to have mastered the art of making those ingredients look amazing. In just over half an hour, he has created seven or eight exquisite and tempting dishes.

Finally, he wiped the sweat from his face with a towel, then poured the remaining Prajna paste on it before sighing.

"It's all thanks to my skills that I'm still around. Otherwise, if I were to rely solely on you useless guys, this kitchen would be finished the next day. Hey you guys, what are you still standing there for? Bring the containers over here!"

Upon seeing the novice monk arrange the items one by one, the fat monk carefully placed all the dishes into the bowl and chopsticks, and finally closed the lid tightly.

"Alright, take the food to the abbot. Although it's not time yet, he's been hungry all day, so he should be able to eat."

Several novice monks accepted the order, but for some reason, the fat monk felt that there was an extra one among them.

But after rubbing his eyes, he realized that the number of people was exactly the same.

In the end, he could only attribute it to his own imagination, and then, muttering to himself, continued cooking for the rest of the people in the temple.

It was 3:45 AM.

The road leading to the Arhat Hall is decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, yet it also appears extremely deserted.

Normally, this is the time when the monks in the temple have just finished their evening prayers and are preparing to rest.

But now.
Looking around, there was only a deathly silence, as if it were about to devour everything.

Perhaps thinking of some unpleasant rumors, one of the novice monks unconsciously shuddered, then lowered his head and said in a humiliating tone.

"Hey you guys, have you heard the legend from the temple? It's about that Arhat who, when his golden body is complete, will devour everything."

At first, it was quiet, and no one spoke, but as they went deeper, perhaps to cover up their fear, someone finally spoke up.

"But what I've heard is that Arhats only devour those lowly people, while those of us who have entered the gate can still cultivate under their tutelage."

Once someone started, others followed suit.

"But what I heard was that the Arhats were going to open the gates of Mount Ling and guide us to the Western Paradise to enjoy bliss together."

"No, I remember he would grant everyone a position, regardless of their social status, so that they could all attain that boundless enlightenment."

Seeing that the conversation was getting increasingly outrageous, an older-looking person finally reprimanded them.

"What are you all saying? Everything is overseen by the temple's elders and abbot. If you keep talking nonsense like this, you'll be sent to the hell of having your tongue pulled out!"

Compared to the fat monk, few people took what this person said to heart, but now that the temple's future was uncertain, everyone fell silent.

And so, darkness once again enveloped the group.

After an unknown amount of time, they, along with the containers, finally arrived before the Arhat Hall.

The leader hesitated for a few seconds, then gently pulled down a rope.

A clear, crisp bell rang out.

However, there was no response.

The novices were clearly a little bewildered, but looking at the container of food, they gritted their teeth and rang the doorbell again.

pity.

This time it's the same as always.

The hall was as if it were empty; no one answered from beginning to end, and not even a single light could be seen.

"How about we go back first and have Master come and take a look?"

It was clearly a suggestion to run away, but everyone still agreed to it—however, just as they were about to turn around and leave, a voice finally came from inside the hall.

"Are you delivering food? Don't be afraid, come in."

Without a doubt, this is the host's voice.

Helpless, the novices could only push open the door and file in, carrying their containers.

Just like what you see outside, there are no lights lit inside the Arhat Hall.

The old monk Hongyi sat under the Arhat, his hands clasped together, silently reciting scriptures. His entire figure was hidden in the shadows, and even when the moonlight shone in from the doorway, it could not illuminate him at all.

Judging from his physique, he seemed to have lost even more weight compared to the morning.

Several novice monks led in the tableware with trembling hands, knelt on the ground, and said.

"Greetings, Abbot. Today's meal has been prepared. Please enjoy your meal."

Otherwise.

The usually kind and approachable abbot ignored them, simply sitting there, continuously chanting familiar scriptures.

No one dared to urge them.

He waited until the old monk Hongyi had finished reciting the entire text silently before slowly speaking.

"The meal was served earlier than usual today."

Hearing that familiar voice, the group finally breathed a sigh of relief. The leader, with a fawning smile, whispered something.

"Master thought that you, Abbot, had worked so hard all day and might be a little hungry, so he asked us to prepare some food in advance and then bring it over."

"He's quite thoughtful."

The old monk Hongyi nodded, but then suddenly changed the subject.

"But the problem is, it's also possible that Rashomon infiltrated and is deliberately trying to harm me. You think about it, he's usually so punctual, so why did he 'go to the trouble' of arriving early today?"

What is the abbot saying?
The novices clearly didn't quite understand, but Master Hongyi didn't want to say anything more. Instead, he lowered his head and softly chanted a Buddhist mantra.

"Om."

next moment.

The eldest novice monk, who was also the leader, instantly melted like grease, spilling it all over the ground.

Then, there was another sound.

"Hum".

This time, it was someone else who exploded like a shower of flowers, blood and flesh splattering all over the faces of those around them.

At this point, these people finally realized what was happening. Some turned and ran away, while others kowtowed repeatedly, crying and asking questions.

"Abbot, what are you doing!" Unfortunately.

Whether they fled or begged for mercy, the old monk Hongyi spared no one. As the mantra was chanted one by one, all the novices died tragically in the Arhat Hall.

No one survived.

And so, the hall fell silent once again.

After some time, another series of footsteps sounded.

This time, it was Faxian who came in.

The disciple of Hongyi glanced at the corpses scattered all over the ground and then sighed softly.

"Why did it come to this, Master? You should know that they couldn't possibly be spies from Rashomon."

The old monk Hongyi's voice remained devoid of sorrow or joy.

"Of course I know, but this matter concerns the future of the entire temple, so we must be careful. As the saying goes, 'It is better to kill the innocent than to let the guilty go free.' If they are truly innocent, they will naturally be able to sit under the Arhats and enjoy blessings in the future."

Faxian clearly disagreed with this statement, but he couldn't say anything to the old man who had held power in the temple for over fifty years and had planned everything from beginning to end; he could only remain silent.

However, the old monk Hongyi still asked.

"Have you done everything I asked you to do?"

Faxian looked sorrowful, but still spoke.

“I did it, but Master, was it really worth it? This was the last remaining member of the temple, and also its most loyal subordinate. If we kill him, we will truly have no ability to resist.”

The old monk Hongyi replied.

"It doesn't matter either. As long as an Arhat descends to earth, everything can start from scratch."

Upon hearing this, Faxian was finally speechless.

But the old monk Hongyi seemed to care a lot about this disciple. Even though he protested silently time and time again, he didn't say anything. Instead, he pointed to the containers for holding rice.

"Alright, you've been working hard all day. Eat first, it'll be easier to get things done when you're full. I know you don't like my behavior, but Master, I can promise you that once this is over, Hanshan Temple will stop doing these things and focus on Buddhist practice from now on, without worrying about external matters."

This was already considered a humble request, so Faxian couldn't say anything more. He could only sigh again and then prepare to start the meal.

Otherwise.

Just now.

Suddenly, a knocking sound rang out.

Both of them were stunned.

—At this point, who would still come over?

When I turned my head, a smiling face appeared before me.

—It was precisely a journey around.

At this very moment, someone was leaning against the door that had been torn open at the factory, looking very relaxed, with his usual smile on his face, showing no sign of malice.

It looks just like a guest visiting someone's home.

The old monk Hongyi remained silent for a long while before finally speaking.

"Benefactor, no, young friend, didn't you leave long ago? Why have you returned to this temple in the middle of the night? What is the meaning of this?"

Zhou You just smiled.

"It's nothing much, I just suddenly remembered that I forgot something, so I came back to get it."

"May I ask what you've forgotten, young friend? Perhaps I can have my apprentice accompany you to retrieve it."

Zhou You shook his head, not answering. He simply raised his chin and gestured to the other side.

"Speaking of which, my timing is rather unfortunate—Abbot, are you just about to have your meal?"

In the shadows, the old monk Hongyi's expression was not visible, but his voice remained as kind and polite as ever.

"Yes, I've been busy all day and was planning to eat early. By the way, if you don't mind, would you like to have some with me?"

Zhou You glanced at the novice monk who had died a gruesome death, shook his head, then walked a few steps with his hands behind his back, ignoring Faxian's ugly expression beside him, and then began to scan the 'containers' from top to bottom.

Then, her smile grew even brighter.

“I have a question for you, Mr. Hongyi.”

"Please speak, young friend."

"Are the serving dishes at your Hanshan Temple made from living people?"

—At this moment, the moonlight finally slanted and illuminated half of the main hall.

Similarly, it illuminated one figure after another.

That was still a person, a living person.

However, unlike the 'monsters' in the kitchen who had been fattened into pigs and had no intelligence, these people seemed to have only recently arrived on the mountain. They still maintained the physique of ordinary humans. There were men and women, old and young, all wearing the same coarse hemp monk's robes. Apart from being a little dull, their expressions were otherwise unreadable.

The only difference is that each person has a thin, almost imperceptible incision around the top of their head.

The old monk Hongyi wanted to say something more, but Zhou You didn't give him a chance to speak. Instead, he raised the Wanren sword, which was already unsheathed—it was still in the form of a short sword and hadn't reverted to its original shape—and inserted it along the gap, gently flicking it.

His head then fell off.

but.

It doesn't contain the usual brain or brain tissue.

Only a steaming plate of food lay in the middle, its enticing aroma making one's mouth water.

Even so, this person is still alive.

Those bright, clear eyes were looking at Zhou You, and there was no pain in them, only a joyful, peaceful, and serene expression.

"Monk, could you explain this to me?"

Faced with Zhou You's questioning, the old monk Hongyi laboriously raised his hand, waved away Faxian who was about to attack, and then said softly.

—But that wasn't an answer; it was a completely unrelated statement.

"May I ask you, benefactor, what criteria do you use to define Buddhist practitioners in this world?"

Unexpectedly, Zhou You didn't say much, but answered very cooperatively.

"Cultivation level? Or rank/attainment level?"

The old monk Hongyi shook his head.

“My benefactor, you are mistaken. Those are all appearances. Don’t you see how many eminent monks and virtuous masters, despite lacking any cultivation or attainment, are still remembered throughout the ages?”

"what is that?"

The old monk Hongyi answered calmly.

"It is a meritorious deed."

"The so-called birth of Buddha is the birth of merit. The amount of merit proves whether a monk has achieved anything. If the merit is enough, he will naturally attain the fruit of enlightenment. If the merit is insufficient, even if he studies diligently until his hair turns white, he will still achieve nothing."

"Therefore, our Hanshan Temple, including these Arhats, has always only cultivated merit and never sought anything else."

(End of this chapter)