The Buddhist Monk of Zen Forest Temple

There were still two days left before the Water Forest Dharma Assembly began.

The monks at Zen Forest Temple had already started preparing early. Since the Dharma Assembly was to be held at night and would attract many ordinary people, the temple needed to hang lanterns all around.

The Guanyin statue in the center of the temple also had to be moved temporarily, placed near the Buddha statue so that the two could have a good discussion about Buddhist scriptures.

This spot would be given to the monks for their livelihood.

People love beauty, and only something visually appealing can attract them. Therefore, flower wreaths and garlands had to be arranged properly, ensuring that the first impression was stunning.

Although it might resemble a funeral setting, strictly speaking, the activities weren’t much different from those at a funeral.

After all, both were nominally about offering prayers for the deceased, so it wasn’t out of place.

The monks at Zen Forest Temple took this matter very seriously, arranging the flowers in a way that was both beautiful and clever, especially around the area where the sponsors would place their memorial tablets.

This aspect of the service had to be impeccable, so that the sponsors could see at a glance that their money was well spent.

After all, those wealthy patrons wouldn’t understand the Buddhist scriptures even if the monks recited them with poetic flair. However, they could certainly appreciate a grand spectacle.

The key was to strike a balance—elegant but not overly so, and slightly vulgar but not too crude.

The abbot of Zen Forest Temple—an elderly man with a white beard, draped in a bright yellow kasaya—was leaning leisurely against a pillar outside the main hall.

Beside him stood a young novice monk, his head shaved clean, wearing a small yellow robe, with thick eyebrows and big eyes that made him look quite adorable.

The young novice, seeing the abbot’s relaxed demeanor, couldn’t help but ask:

“Senior Brother… did you really agree to this year’s Water Forest Dharma Assembly?”

“A monk does not lie. If I said it, then I meant it,” the abbot replied, turning his head and smiling at the young novice. “It’s not you who has to bear the brunt of it, so why are you worried about losing face?”

The young novice lowered his head, dejected, and said, “Senior Brother, other temples already call us greedy monks… This time, you…”

“Greed lies in the heart. To act for oneself is greed, but to act for others—is that still greed?” The abbot reached out and ruffled the young novice’s head. “If I’m not acting for myself, how can it be greed? If you’re not acting for yourself, it’s not greed either.”

“Then, Senior Brother, what do you need so much money for?” the young novice asked, displeased. “The Buddha said that emptiness is the true nature of all things.”

The abbot replied with a calm and wise demeanor, “If you’ve already achieved emptiness, why do you care about what others say?”

“The Buddha is empty, but I’m not. Of course, I care,” the young novice retorted.

Hearing this, the abbot burst into laughter and happily ruffled the young novice’s head again:

“Good, good. The Buddha is empty, and this old monk is only half-empty, with the other half still intact.”

The young novice was about to say more, but the abbot raised his hand to stop him.

The abbot smiled and negotiated, “Just this year, alright?”

The young novice’s expression showed clear disbelief, as if this promise had been made more than once before.

The abbot lightly tapped his own head and said, “A monk does not lie.”

“Well… alright then,” the young novice sighed. “But you mustn’t lie again this time. Telling too many lies will prevent you from becoming a Buddha.”

The abbot laughed heartily.

“You’ll have to lead the chanting during this Dharma Assembly…”

The abbot didn’t finish his sentence, but instead playfully raised his eyebrows, signaling to the young novice what he should do now.

The young novice sighed like a little adult, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked into the main hall.

The abbot watched the young novice’s retreating figure, smiling gently, and clasped his hands in prayer, silently reciting Buddhist scriptures.

The young novice entered the main hall of the temple.

The monks who were cleaning and decorating the hall immediately stopped what they were doing, clasped their hands, and bowed in unison, saying:

“Greetings, Grand Master.”

The young novice nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then sat alone on a cushion beneath the Buddha statue, silently reciting the prayer for the deceased that he had chanted hundreds of times before.

The young novice was small, but he was clever.

At least, that’s what everyone said.

He also knew that whether the prayer was recited correctly or not, the onlookers wouldn’t understand it.

But whether as a person or a Buddha, one must have principles—to act with a clear conscience.

When the young novice reached the fifth recitation, a commotion arose outside the hall.

As the only Buddhist prodigy of Zen Forest Temple, the young novice possessed extraordinary talent and could hear the noise without letting it disturb his mind.

However, when one of the monks shouted:

“Abbot! That person has sent the plaque you’re supposed to hold during the Dharma Assembly. Take a look—this is too much! Let’s just smash it!”

The young novice’s ears perked up instantly.

“A monk… does not lie. If I agreed, then… I agreed.”

The abbot’s slightly troubled voice also reached the young novice’s ears.

Forgive me, Buddha! My heart is itching with curiosity right now!

The young novice stopped his silent recitation and cautiously turned around.

What met his eyes was a large, eye-catching plaque.

It was written in clear, bold calligraphy, as if to ensure that no one could miss it.

The plaque didn’t bear the name of a deceased person.

The young novice was stunned for a moment, and then he broke his vow.

The young novice exclaimed in frustration:

“What the hell!”

Li Yingling was utterly dumbfounded.

Even Li Xingtian, who had been reborn, had never seen such a scene and felt that this life was truly worth living again.

Chu Xingchen laughed uncontrollably, saying, “Hahaha… As expected of Yuzhou City’s top temple. If you want to go viral, you’ve got to know how to put on a show!”

Yaoqin, in disbelief, quickly removed the rabbit mask she was wearing.

She even suspected that the mask had been tampered with, unwilling to believe that an abbot would willingly hold such a sign.

But even after removing the mask, the scene before her remained unchanged.

The elderly, white-bearded abbot of Zen Forest Temple—Yuan Jing—stood in the most prominent spot among the flower wreaths, holding a plaque high with both hands.

On the plaque, written in neat calligraphy, were the words: “Don’t fight with this old monk for the nun.”

With their abbot holding such a plaque, the monks of Zen Forest Temple looked dejected and dispirited.

Many of the devotees around couldn’t help but point and laugh.

However, the abbot, sitting high on the platform, remained calm and composed, completely unfazed by the pointing and mocking.

Still, this wasn’t the first time Zen Forest Temple had held the Water Forest Dharma Assembly, and everyone knew the routine.

The plaque was undoubtedly commissioned by someone who had paid a hefty sum to humiliate Zen Forest Temple.

After all, no one would believe that an elderly abbot, who seemed past his prime, would willingly hold such a sign and ruin his lifelong reputation.

But for the sake of money, the temple’s reputation had taken a significant blow.

At the very least, Zen Forest Temple’s reputation for being money-hungry was now firmly established.

At the same time, people could look forward to next year’s Water Forest Dharma Assembly and wonder what sign the famous abbot would hold then.

Two days earlier, the young novice who had broken his vow and lost his composure walked over from a distance, pushing through the crowd to approach Yaoqin and the others. He asked:

“Are you Lady Yaoqin?”

Yaoqin looked at the young novice who was bowing to her. At this moment, her magical disguise was still active.

The young novice showed no signs of spiritual energy, so he should have been an ordinary person.

But this young novice likely possessed the ability to see through illusions.

This must be the Buddhist prodigy that Zen Forest Temple had proclaimed to the cultivation world—Yuan Kong.