Invasion Myth: Starting with the Schoolteacher

Chapter 665 Are you Guangliang?

The blazing sun of May illuminated the glazed tiles of Jinshan Temple, making them gleam with golden light. Wisps of smoke rose from the incense burner, mingling with the sounds of bells and chimes, further enhancing the serene atmosphere of the Buddhist sanctuary.

Before the mountain gate, devout men and women thronged shoulder to shoulder—women praying for children clutched red ropes soaked in incense ash, scholars on their way to take the imperial examinations kowtowed to the statue of Manjushri Bodhisattva until their foreheads bled, and even the silk shopkeeper Zhao was directing his employees to stack ten gold ingots into the shape of a pagoda, which made the visiting monks beam with joy.

Amidst this devout clamor, no one noticed that two important figures who could influence the fate of Jiangnan had stepped through the mountain gate.

The man wore a moon-white long robe with an oil-paper umbrella hanging at his waist, the words "Security Guard" appearing and disappearing on the umbrella handle; the girl wore a green silk skirt with dragon patterns embroidered on it, and a kingfisher feather hairpin in her hair trembled slightly with her steps, the dragon's eyes changing color with the angle of the sunlight.

“Your temple looks almost as good as Lingyin Temple now.” Xiaoqing tiptoed to reach the copper bell on the eaves, startling a few sparrows that were resting there. “Master Guangliang’s methods are quite sophisticated. Are all monks this good at business?”

This place was originally just a wasteland with a few broken pillars. Even the name "Golden Mountain" was given to it by someone later.

Besides, this is a stronghold located on the banks of the Yangtze River; ordinary forces wouldn't dare to be so presumptuous.

Xu Xuan smiled and pushed aside the pilgrims who were crowding around her: "The outstanding one is not the monk, but Guangliang."

My gaze swept over the newly erected merit stele in front of the Mahavira Hall, where the words "Guangliang, the abbot of Lingyin Temple in Qiantang, donated five thousand taels of silver" were particularly eye-catching. "To be able to make the incense so prosperous within two years after the Blood Demon Disaster, with such ability, why would I need to return to Feilai Peak?"

The Father began to consider the possibility of officially suspending the reconstruction project of Feilai Peak.

Of course, this was a joke; as a Zen master, he greatly admired Guangliang.

He had met many monks in the Pure Land school who were highly accomplished in Buddhism, and quite a few of them had a clear understanding of Buddhist principles, but when it came to management skills, he had to look to the Zen school.

Each profession has its own expertise; in the Pure Land school, only those who follow the path of the White Lotus are good at going among the masses.

Of course, in someone's mind, Guangliang's greatest shining point is that he truly embodies compassion.

For example, suddenly a large number of disciples returned to secular life; suddenly a blood demon came knocking; suddenly one's home was gone and one was relocated to Zhenjiang; suddenly one's abbot became a temple supervisor; suddenly one could never go back.

Even so, Guangliang still managed to run Jinshan Temple with great success, ringing the morning bell and beating the evening drum every day.

Xu Xuan thought to himself that such a person should at least be granted the title of Dharma King if he were a talent like this in the White Lotus Sect.

The two were inspecting Jinshan Temple when they suddenly saw a round figure emerge from a side hall:

The gold-threaded kasaya was stretched taut, the gilded staff had left a deep dent in the ground, the amber prayer beads the size of pigeon eggs were deeply embedded in his fat, his round face was shiny with oil, and he had three layers of double chins.

One could faintly hear the man instructing the young novice: "Put all the lotus root powder from West Lake in the east wing. Remember! Say it's lotus root cultivated by Master Yu of the Jintian Academy, which Abbot Fahai had a hard time obtaining. Also, bring out the stock of five-colored silk and distribute it free of charge to the pilgrims. Just say..."

The oil-paper umbrella in Xu Xuan's hand fell to the ground with a "thud".

Is this Guangliang?

Could this be Guangliang?
Is this... is this the gaunt Master Guangliang?
In his memory, the old monk with wrinkled skin, a thin figure, and a face full of wrinkles had become so bloated after only half a year. If it weren't for the matching aura, Xu Xuan would not have recognized him.

"Master, how have you been?" Xu Xuan's voice changed.

The fat monk shuddered, then turned around with a dignified air: "Amitabha—oh dear! The abbot is here!" His fat face immediately broke into a friendly smile, "And Miss Qing is here too!"

Xiaoqing waved excitedly, "Master Guangliang! I've missed you so much!" After all, this was her first connection, and he had said he would give her a good treat next time.

Guangliang enthusiastically led the two towards the backyard, the ground trembling slightly with each step.

Xu Xuan stared at the pile of fat on the back of his neck and couldn't help but ask, "Master, have you... rebuilt your indestructible body?" The Dharma body is as solid as Vajra, and both permanence and ultimate truth coexist.

This aura is familiar; the Holy Father manifests his Vajra form when he circulates the Great Vajra Divine Power.

Guangliang practices the indestructible body as a special method, a form of self-protection in Zen Buddhism. However, the Vajra realm surrounding his body seems somewhat unusual, appearing slightly ethereal.

The old monk explained his changes as he walked.

It turns out that during the Blood Demon Calamity, his golden body, which he had painstakingly cultivated for a hundred years, was destroyed. He had planned to slowly rebuild it, but unexpectedly, around the time of the Awakening of Insects this year, a large number of demons suddenly appeared in Xinggou on the opposite bank.

"That day, demonic energy raged for miles, and bloodlust soared to the heavens." The monk recalled, rubbing his belly. "I suddenly realized how dangerous the world was. If I didn't recover my cultivation soon, I was afraid that Jinshan Temple would not be able to withstand such a storm."

Xu Xuan raised an eyebrow: "So, Master..."

"I used some secret Buddhist methods," Guangliang said sheepishly, rubbing his prayer beads. "I used a few Buddhist treasures I brought from Lingyin Temple, plus the Buddhist energy I've accumulated over the years." He patted his round belly. "I'm temporarily at this level. I reckon after a few more decades of hard work, I'll be able to slim down again."

After hearing the reason, Xu and Qing exchanged a secret glance.

Xiaoqing: It seems to have something to do with me.

Xu Xuan: It has nothing to do with me.

It seems the little monster has the moral upper hand.

As the three passed through the courtyard, they saw the east wing piled high with lotus root starch labeled "Special Supply to Jintian Academy," and the west wing drying Buddhist scriptures mixed with gold powder. Under the Bodhi tree in the courtyard, several young monks were consecrating jade pendants.

Handicraft workshops are micro-production organizations within a small-scale peasant economy system, centered around families or clans and primarily based on manual labor, possessing both economic functions and social attributes.

The phrase instantly popped into Xu Xuan's mind.

No wonder Baoan Temple could import large quantities of five-colored silk from Jinshan Temple; this was the beginning of an industry.

Guangliang coughed lightly: "These are all for disaster relief. There have been many natural and man-made disasters in the past two years, and more and more people are fleeing from the north. Our Jinshan Temple is right on the banks of the Yangtze River, so naturally we have to find a way to give them a chance to survive."

Xu Xuan knows that the largest soup kitchen in Zhenjiang is at Jinshan Temple.

Next door, Baoantang also opened a free clinic where doctors take turns holding consultations, and all the medicines and other services are free.

It gained its great reputation through word of mouth.

Suddenly, a brand-new donation book was handed to him. "Abbot, would you like to donate some more incense money?"

Xu Xuan looked at the words "Zen Master Fahai donated five hundred taels" on the merit book, silently took the brush and changed it to five thousand taels.

Xiaoqing chuckled to herself, thinking, "They've come to beg for alms from the abbot!"

He also casually tossed dozens of luminous pearls into the donation box.

It's not that we're unwilling to throw more away, but if this kind of thing appears too often, it becomes worthless.

After settling down in the backyard, Guangliang chuckled and nodded to Xiaoqing while stroking his prayer beads, saying, "Demons have their own nature, but I didn't expect you to be able to cleanse yourself of your animalistic nature so quickly."

(End of this chapter)