Hot flashes

When Shen Ji returned to his courtyard, before he even stepped inside, he heard laughter coming from inside.

With coquettish laughter and playful pushing, mixed with the voices of several young women, it was as lively as a banquet.

Shen Ji paused in his steps.

He stood at the doorway, not going in immediately.

The courtyard gate was ajar, and through the crack, one could see what was happening inside—several maids were huddled together in a circle, doing something haphazardly. The laughter was coming from there.

Shen Ji pushed open the door.

He went inside, walked around the withered flower trellis, and finally saw the situation in the yard.

The maids were surrounding a chair.

A person is sitting in the chair.

The man looked to be in his early twenties, with a handsome appearance—charming eyes, a smile on his lips, and slightly disheveled temples.

He leaned back lazily in his chair, one leg crossed over his shoulder, talking to the maid beside him. The maid was amused by him and covered her mouth to laugh, her shoulders shaking.

Those who don't know the situation might think they've entered some kind of strange place.

Shen Ji stood there without saying a word.

A maid saw him first, and the smile on her face instantly froze.

"Young Master..."

Upon hearing this, everyone else turned around in unison. Seeing who it was, the color drained from their faces, and they hurriedly stepped back, bowing their heads in respect.

"Young Master."

The person in the chair was also taken aback for a moment.

He stood up quickly, so fast he almost tripped over the hem of his robe. Once steadied himself, he forced a smile, a smile that looked utterly awkward.

"Shen Shiyu," he said, "you're back so early?"

Shen Ji looked at him.

His gaze was indifferent, so indifferent that it revealed no emotion.

"Cheng Yan," he said, his voice low, "still hasn't learned his lesson."

Cheng Yan's face contorted for a moment.

"It's grown, it's grown!" he said quickly, smiling eagerly. "It really has grown."

Shen Ji did not respond.

He looked at the maids with their heads bowed.

They all held their breath, not daring to make a sound. The rules in the manor were strict, and the rules in the eldest young master's courtyard were even stricter.

Normally, let alone playing around, even walking a little too loudly would get them scolded by the head maid. Today, the eldest young master caught them in this scene…

Shen Ji raised his hand.

"Step back."

The maids were stunned.

Then, as if granted a pardon, they hastily bowed and filed out. The last one to leave gently closed the courtyard gate.

The courtyard quieted down.

Cheng Yan stood there, his expression shifting several times. Suddenly, he leaned closer, grinning mischievously.

"Young Master," he said, his voice low and slightly ingratiating, "you've learned to be gentle with women now?"

Shen Ji looked up at him.

Cheng Yan felt a chill run down her spine.

Have you done your homework?

Cheng Yan's eyes darted around.

Just that one moment.

Shen Ji withdrew his gaze, walked past him, and went straight into the house.

Cheng Yan stood there, watching the figure disappear through the door, and suddenly had a bad feeling.

A moment later, a roar echoed through the courtyard.

"Shen Shiyu, you bastard!"

The maids who had just left stood outside the courtyard gate. Upon hearing the roar, they kept their eyes down and didn't dare to move.

They were frightened at first too.

That was the first time Young Master Cheng came to the manor. I didn't know his background, I only knew that he was the eldest son's guest, and he was settled in this courtyard.

On the very first day, he dared to slam his fist on the table and challenge the eldest son.

No matter how much trouble Young Master Cheng caused, the eldest young master never truly got angry. But he didn't let him off easy either. Every time Young Master Cheng misbehaved, the eldest young master would find a different way to punish him. After the punishment, Young Master Cheng would beg for forgiveness for a few days, only to come back again.

The gate to the courtyard was closed, but some noises could still be heard inside.

First came Cheng Yan's cursing, then footsteps, then the sound of a chair being moved, and then—the sound of chanting.

A group of monks.

The young master had somehow acquired these monks, who were all standing in a circle, striking wooden fish and chanting sutras.

He recited it with intonation and full of energy.

Cheng Yan was tied to a chair and sat in the very center of the circle, listening to the scriptures pouring into his ears from all directions. His eyes were closed, and his face was contorted in pain, as if he were being tortured.

"Namo Amitabha Buddha... Namo Amitabha Buddha... Namo Amitabha Buddha..."

"Alright, alright!" Cheng Yan roared.

The monks ignored them and continued chanting.

"Thus have I heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the country of Shravasti..."

"I told you to stop reading!"

"...Jejushri Park, with 1,250 great monks..."

Cheng Yan opened his eyes and looked at the monks with their eyes closed and pious expressions. He felt an urge to rush up and smash all their wooden fish.

He turned his head and shouted into the house.

"Shen Shiyu! Come out here!"

The room was quiet.

Cheng Yan shouted again, "Come out here if you dare!"

There was still no movement inside.

The monks continued chanting sutras.

"...At that time, the World-Honored One, at mealtime, donned his robes, took his alms bowl, and entered the great city of Shravasti to beg for food..."

Cheng Yan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

One hour later.

"...After the Buddha finished speaking this sutra, the elder Subhuti, along with all the monks, nuns, laymen, laywomen, and all the gods, humans, and asuras of the world, who heard what the Buddha had said, were all greatly delighted, believed and accepted it, and practiced it."

I finally finished reading one.

Just as Cheng Yan breathed a sigh of relief, he heard the monks begin chanting the next chapter.

Thus have I heard. At one time the Buddha was…

Another half hour passed.

"...Bodhisattvas should practice giving without attachment to anything, that is, giving without attachment to form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or mental objects..."

Cheng Yan leaned back in his chair, looking at the monks with a blank stare.

"I was wrong," he said, his voice hoarse.

The monks ignored him.

"I was really wrong," he said again, his voice a little louder. "Shen Shiyu, I was wrong. I really can't stand this anymore. Tell them to stop reading!"

There was still no movement inside the house.

"...Subhuti! A Bodhisattva should give alms in this way, without attachment to any particular form. Why? Because if a Bodhisattva gives alms without attachment to any particular form, the merit he accumulates is immeasurable..."

Cheng Yan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then shouted at the top of his lungs.

"I was wrong! I'll never do it again! I'll do double the homework! Triple the homework! Okay?"

The door opened.

Shen Ji walked out from inside.

He was dressed in plain, simple clothes, tall and slender, with a handsome, aloof face, and still holding the pen in his hand. It seemed he had been standing at his desk writing, and had only now put down the pen to come out and check on the situation.

When Cheng Yan saw him, her eyes turned red.

Shen Ji walked up to the monks and raised his hand.

The group of monks finally stopped.

They all stood up in unison, nodded to Shen Ji, and then went over to untie Cheng Yan. After doing this, they filed out and quickly disappeared outside the courtyard gate.

Cheng Yan rubbed his wrists, which were numb from being tied up, and looked at the monks' backs, wishing he could burn them to ashes with his eyes.

Shen Ji glanced at him, said nothing, and turned to walk back into the house.

The door closed.

Cheng Yan stood in the courtyard, staring at the door, and remained there for a long time.

Then he breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down in the chair.

After sitting for a while, he suddenly stood up again and cursed at the door.

No one cares about him.

He sat back down.

The courtyard was quiet. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the bare branches could be heard, a desolate murmur.

Cheng Yan sat there, suddenly remembering the scriptures he had just read.

"...giving without attachment to form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or mental objects..."

He shuddered.

That's fucking poisonous.

What normal person would keep a group of monks in their own yard?