After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

The next morning, the inner courtyard of the Jiang residence was quiet, with only the occasional chirping of early birds on the branches.

Jiang Dusheng got up quite early, had a simple breakfast, and then began to process the daily divination he had accumulated from his busy days.

She asked Wang Dazhuang to set up a simple square table at the entrance of the house, place a divination stick container and writing brush and ink on it, and then she moved a chair to sit down.

Holding the list of people seeking divination, Wang Dazhuang went to the addresses listed on it to notify those who had been waiting in line for days.

Before long, the first person seeking divination arrived in a hurry.

The man who came was around thirty years old, dressed in plain clothes, with obvious fatigue on his face and dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he had not slept for several days.

He walked to the table, bowed slightly before speaking, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Master Jiang, please help me. My father has passed away. According to custom, the body should be kept in state for three days before the funeral procession and burial. But when we got the coffin halfway up the mountain, we couldn't lift it any further."

He wiped the sweat from his brow and continued, "We've consulted several masters, but none of them could explain it. We've put up talismans and burned incense, but it just won't budge."

"Several days have passed, and the coffin is still halfway up the mountain, barely covered with a tarpaulin. It can't be laid to rest. We're at our wits' end. Would you be able to go and take a look now? We're open to discussing payment!"

Jiang Dusheng, who was tidying up the fortune slips on the table with his eyes down, didn't even look up when he heard this, and only asked indifferently:

"The deceased's birth date and time, and the original burial location."

The man quickly gave his father's birth date and the originally chosen location of the burial plot.

Jiang Dusheng traced a few lines on the table with his fingertips, pondered for a moment, then looked up at the man with clear eyes:

"Your father doesn't like the burial site you've chosen."

The man was taken aback: "You...you don't like it? This...this burial site was chosen by a feng shui master, who said it would bring blessings to future generations..."

Jiang Dusheng interrupted him, his tone resolute: "Feng shui is feng shui, and intention is intention. An auspicious burial site may not necessarily suit the deceased's eyes or heart."

"Where the coffin is placed and can no longer be moved, that is where his last wish rested. There is no need to forcibly move it back to its original location; simply bury him at the place where the coffin was placed and choose an auspicious time."

The man was taken aback again, not expecting such a simple solution, which was completely different from what he had imagined for exorcising ghosts and evil spirits:

"It's...it's that simple? No need for rituals? No need to...move the place?" He still couldn't quite believe it.

"That's all." Jiang Dusheng withdrew his gaze, said no more, and gestured for him to leave. "Next."

The man was skeptical, but seeing Jiang Dusheng's composed demeanor and confident tone, and recalling her growing reputation in Changling City, he realized he truly had no other choice.

He could only bow deeply, pay the divination fee, and leave in a hurry, presumably rushing back to the mountain to try it as Jiang Dusheng had suggested.

Jiang Dusheng didn't care whether the other party fully believed him or not.

The path has been laid out; the way is under your feet.

Whether one believes or not is a matter of personal destiny and choice.

Unexpectedly, the next person to step forward was not an ordinary citizen, but a young monk dressed in monk's robes and holding prayer beads.

The monk looked to be in his early twenties, with delicate features, but his eyes revealed a calmness beyond his years.

He walked to the table, but instead of bowing and asking for help as most people would, he put his hands together and chanted a Buddhist prayer.

"Amitabha. This humble monk is Jiekong. I apologize for disturbing you. I have heard that you once practiced at Nanchansi Temple, have a deep affinity with Buddhism, possess unique wisdom, and often have extraordinary insights into worldly affairs and human nature."

His gaze met Jiang Dusheng's calm eyes, and he continued, "This humble monk has recently been puzzled by something, which I cannot understand no matter how hard I try. I have been tossing and turning all night, which has disturbed my meditation and quiet cultivation. I have come here to earnestly request your compassionate guidance."

Jiang Dusheng gave him a careful look.

The monk exuded a pure aura, indeed showing signs of cultivation, but the wisp of melancholy between his brows was like a pearl covered in dust, obstructing his mental clarity and even subtly shaking the very foundation of his cultivation.

She gestured for a seat, saying, "Please sit down. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask."

The monk Jiekong sat down opposite her, his fingers unconsciously moving the prayer beads. After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke, his voice filled with confusion and self-doubt:

"This humble monk has been practicing in the temple for over ten years. I have always been strict in upholding the precepts and diligent in studying the Dharma, reciting scriptures by day and contemplating Zen principles by night."

"I have always believed that the only way to find liberation from the suffering of the world is to enter the Buddhist order." He paused, his brow furrowing even more deeply. "But recently, the temple has been raising funds extensively to repair the main hall."

"Seeing believers give up everything they have just to donate for a title of merit; seeing fellow practitioners secretly vying for the position of guest master, even ostracizing each other..."

"Even worse, some use the guise of preaching and expounding the Dharma to curry favor with the powerful and wealthy, turning a pure and serene place into a arena for fame and fortune..."

Jiekong raised his head and looked at Jiang Dusheng, his eyes full of confusion: "Benefactor, this humble monk does not understand. We abandon our families and worldly affairs to enter the Buddhist order, seeking nothing more than to escape the turmoil of the mortal world and attain enlightenment."

"But why... is there scheming, strife, and delusion even within this empty gate? Is there truly no pure place for spiritual practice in this world? This humble monk is having second thoughts, fearing that my resolve for the path has been damaged. I humbly request your guidance, benefactor."

After finishing his speech, Abbot Jiekong bowed his head deeply, his prayer beads moving rapidly in his hands, revealing his inner struggle.

Jiang Dusheng listened quietly, then looked calmly at Jiekong, "Master Jiekong, you are wrong."

Jie Kong suddenly looked up, puzzled.

"Your mistake lies in setting the Buddhist path and the secular world in stark contrast." Jiang Dusheng's tone was calm, yet every word was as resounding as a chime. "You abandoned your family and worldly affairs to distance yourself from worldly entanglements and seek inner peace, which is not wrong in itself."

"But if you view the temple as empty and the world outside the temple as dust, then you are attached to appearances."

She tapped the table lightly with her fingertip: "Know that Buddha is not far away on Mount Ling, but only in your heart."

"The true path to emptiness lies not in the mountains and forests, nor in temples, but within the confines of your own mind."

"The conflicts you see in the temple are human nature, cause and effect, and the various aspects of life. They have always existed in this world and will not disappear just because you are in a temple."

"Troubles are enlightenment, and lotus flowers grow from mud."

"Your spiritual practice is not about finding a place without these things, but about cultivating a heart that can face them without being tainted by them."

Monk Jiekong was stunned, and the prayer beads in his hand unconsciously stopped.

"You think that by seeing through the illusions of the world and entering a Buddhist monastery, you can attain great freedom."

"Little do people know that true purity is not found outside the body, but within the mind. If the mind is enslaved by the body, even standing before the Buddha is like being in a cage."

Upon hearing this, Monk Jiekong was struck dumb, sitting there in a daze, his expression shifting between moments of sudden realization, shame, and enlightenment.

After a long while, he exhaled a long breath, and the pent-up emotions in his eyes dissipated, replaced by a clear and bright look.

He stood up, straightened his monk's robe, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply to Jiang Dusheng:

"Amitabha. Listening to your words is like receiving a sudden enlightenment, like the clouds parting to reveal the sun."

"It was I who became attached to appearances, actually linking my spiritual practice with external circumstances, and giving rise to delusional thoughts. I am ashamed, ashamed. I will forever remember your kindness in guiding me."

This bow was made with the utmost sincerity.

Jiang Dusheng calmly accepted his bow, saying only, "It's good that Master can realize it on his own. The path of cultivation is long; just guard your original heart."

The monk Jiekong bowed again, said no more, and turned to leave. His steps were noticeably lighter, and the lingering melancholy between his brows had vanished.

Jiang Dusheng watched him leave and said, "Next."