Gentle’s situation concerned him a bit... so he decided to temporarily wait for news from the Blazing Hall.
Being in Blazing Hall’s territory, wouldn’t it be a waste not to use them?
However, all afternoon, no news from Blazing Hall was delivered... which was considered good news, though they hadn’t found Prince Xue, neither did they find any victims.
By afternoon, they even visited Guang’an Temple and mingled with the buzz of the Dharma assembly.
Devout believers from all around gathered here, kneeling and worshipping, hoping to find new enlightenment in the words of various masters.
Chu Qing didn’t say whether he believed in ghosts and gods, after all, encountering things like time travel, belief really doesn’t matter.
However, these monks’ teachings, while seemingly logical, were in fact grandiose and empty words.
Some people didn’t understand yet still felt they were speaking well.
Not because they really spoke well, but because they wanted to show off to others that they could perceive the true intent in these words and had deep insights.
In reality, they had no insight at all.
But people like these things, praying to gods and Buddhas is simply for peace of mind.
Even in current turbulent times, or during peaceful and prosperous years, their prayers to gods and Buddhas are nothing more than that.
Chu Qing watched for a while and then grew sleepy, so he led Gentle and Wuchen away, found an inn to stay, and they each rested.
Soon night fell...
Chu Qing and Gentle both changed into Night Clothes, ready to act.
Turning around, they saw Wuchen still in ’Chen Wu’ attire.
Seeing the two black-clad figures, the monk was startled, wondering where these ill-intentioned individuals came from?
Once he confirmed it was Chu Qing and Gentle, the monk couldn’t help but widen his eyes:
"Do you both carry Night Clothes with you?"
Gentle nodded seriously:
"You never know when you’ll need to kill, sneak in, or do things that require concealing your identity, so Night Clothes must be at hand."
"...But I, as a humble monk, don’t have any."
Chu Qing took out a mask from his bosom and tossed it to him:
"Make do with this."
"Never worn it before..."
Then this large monk, holding the mask, first covered his eyes, almost falling off the eaves, then covered his mouth and nose, afraid that his profound cultivation might lead to suffocating himself.
In the end, it was Chu Qing who demonstrated and personally helped him tie the mask, telling him:
"In the future, learn from me, tie it like this, understand?
"This tying method allows the mask to fit snugly on the skin without being too tight to cause breathing difficulties.
"While acting, it also won’t fall off due to excessive movements..."
"Such a small mask, it actually has so much knowledge?"
Wuchen felt that half his life had been wasted, realizing even a small piece of black cloth had its own rationale.
Seeing Wuchen’s expression that seemed on the verge of enlightenment, Chu Qing, too lazy to care, led both in a rush to Guang’an Temple.
Soon, the group of three arrived at Guang’an Temple.
Although night had fallen, it wasn’t very late, and the monks inside the temple were having their evening classes.
In the Buddhist hall, each struck a wooden fish, chanting ’Amitabha’.
Chu Qing and his group waited atop the eaves until the evening class ended, only then did they follow behind Zen Master Hui Ji.
They eventually tailed him to his meditation room.
Someone was already there, clearly waiting for some time.
"Zen Master Hui Ji, junior uncle."
Ling Xin, upon seeing Zen Master Hui Ji, showed both respect and a hint of cheekiness.
Zen Master Hui Ji glanced at him without speaking. After sitting down, he poured himself a cup of tea:
"Did Enlightenment send you?"
"That’s right."
Ling Xin replied softly:
"Master asked me to send his regards to you."
"No need for greetings, I know what he wants to do.
"Back then, I didn’t speak of that matter, and now I won’t speak of it either."
Zen Master Hui Ji spoke calmly.
Upon hearing this, Ling Xin nodded:
"That’s good... By the way, junior uncle, Master heard you have a copy of the Shakyamuni Treasure Scroll, he’d like to borrow it..."
Zen Master Hui Ji looked at him, sighed, and stood up, walking towards the bookshelf:
"I’ll get it for you..."
Ling Xin naturally followed behind Zen Master Hui Ji, a dagger now in his hand.
"Let me help you look..."
As he spoke, he thrust the dagger into Zen Master Hui Ji’s lower back.
Unexpectedly, when the blade touched flesh, it made a ’ding’ sound.
This old monk, though looking frail with age, had Vajra Indestructible martial arts.
He turned to look at Ling Xin:
"What are you doing?"
Ling Xin was silent for a moment, wondering if he should lie and say it was a misunderstanding, and whether junior uncle would believe him?