Chapter 181: Offer Money and the Old Monk

Anqiu County and its surrounding villages had just over a thousand households, making it sparsely populated. Since the Hongwu era, people from various places had been forcibly relocated here by the authorities, who rewarded them for cultivating the land. However, labor services were extremely heavy over the years, with either floods or droughts every year. Even though farmers worked hard, their harvests remained meager.

For this reason, the popularity of Fuching Temple in the county was quite low. The temple owned 100 mu of farmland and employed a few permanent workers, but all the monks, including the abbot, took turns working in the fields, earning them a reputation for integrity in the area.

“The monks should not concern themselves with secular affairs” has always been nonsense. In times that revered Buddhism, monks were respected; in times that suppressed Buddhism, they were often forced to return to secular life. It was not uncommon for monks to influence the course of history—Yao, the current court advisor, could be considered the greatest such figure throughout history. Nowadays, Buddhism and Taoism held roughly equal status, so monks led a life that was neither good nor bad. Yet even so, though they might not care about global affairs, they should at least pay attention to local matters.

It was the off-season for farming, and the abbot of Fuching Temple should have been devoted to chanting scriptures as befits a monk. But his mind could not settle down no matter what.

The county magistrate and the registrar, who had been corrupt for seven or eight years, had never been dealt with before. Now, they had suddenly been arrested by the Imperial Guards. They deserved to be caught, but what about the money for offerings this year? Everyone in the temple could endure hardship, but they still needed income. Without the 100 taels of silver they received from those two at the end of each year, relying solely on the farmland, it would likely not be enough to repair the temple next year.

After much thought, the old abbot finally felt relieved: “Amitabha, how good. They have been harming the people for so long. Now that someone has come to rid the area of these pests, I should be happy. How can I covet the offering money? Next year, the temple must be even more frugal. Hmm, perhaps we shouldn’t hire permanent workers anymore, and we can cut back on food and lodging as well…”

Just then, a young monk rushed in, his face filled with excitement: “Abbot, Lord Zhang, the county magistrate, is here! He says he came specifically to pay his respects!”

The old monk was momentarily stunned. Although Fukuqing Temple was the only temple in Anqiu, it had little contact with the government on a daily basis. The Luo and Zhao families would still send some money for incense offerings each year because their wives were devout Buddhists, but neither the county magistrate nor the clerk had ever set foot inside the temple. The new county magistrate had just driven away those two “plagues,” and the people praised him highly; his reputation among officials was indeed excellent. But why had he suddenly come here now?

Though he couldn’t figure it out, the old monk still quickly put on his robe and went out to greet him. He would always find money to repair the temple’s halls every year, but there was nothing he could do about the uneven stone path. Wearing his thin monk’s shoes on it, he felt constant pain in his feet and couldn’t help but sigh helplessly.

Even the most skillful cook can’t cook without ingredients—just because of this road, few people would come to the temple.

From a distance, he saw two figures in front of the Mahavira Hall and could hardly believe his eyes. It was a young man and a middle-aged man. The young man wore a green robe, looking like the son of a middle-class family; the middle-aged man wore a neat brown robe, sturdy and strong, and at first glance they seemed like father and son. Thinking that the new county magistrate came from a wealthy family of young nobles, he glanced at the young monk beside him, wondering if he had heard wrong.

Only when they got closer did he realize that the young man’s green robe wasn’t made of plain cloth but a dark green satin jacket with small rolled edges, covered by a half-sleeved cloak. A vermilion sash was tied around his waist. The fabric seemed high-quality, but it didn’t exude any sense of luxury. Before he could speak, he saw the young man bow to him and call him “Elder Abbot,” so he hurriedly returned the greeting.

After exchanging a few words, he was amazed by the young man’s humble tone, which showed no arrogance. He felt warm inside, realizing that when he went to wealthy families in the county to ask for alms, he was often met with cold stares from their butlers. He had thought all wealthy families were like that, but it turned out the people he had met before were superficial. A true nobleman should be like this.

Zhang Yue certainly didn’t come here to discuss Buddhist doctrines with the abbot of Fuching Temple. His mind was occupied with the mysterious woman he met at the sermon event in Wangjiazhuang. Thus, once the matter of Luo and Zhao was resolved, a visit to Fuching Temple became inevitable. After chatting a bit with the old monk, he found that the monk wasn’t always speaking in Zen-like terms or strictly adhering to monastic rules. Remembering that the monks in this temple had a good reputation outside as well, Zhang Yue grew to like them even more. So when the old monk invited him to sit in the meditation room, he immediately agreed.

Once seated in the meditation room and taking in his surroundings, he said, “I see that the halls and temples of Fuching Temple are in good condition. But the abbot and the other monks all wear old clothes, suggesting that their lives must be hard. I heard that the county magistrate Luo and the clerk Zhao were devout Buddhists and would donate money for incense offerings every year. Now that they’ve encountered trouble, the temple must have less income. It’s admirable that the abbot, at his age, still works the fields himself, setting a good example for the villagers and truly embodying the principles of teaching. Since I’ve just arrived and can’t offer much help, I’ve come today intending to donate 200 taels as an offering.”

Upon hearing this, the young monk standing beside the old monk showed delight, but the old monk was initially surprised before shaking his head. “I am deeply grateful for Lord Zhang’s kindness. To be honest, I was upset when I thought that with the loss of the annual 100 taels from Luo and Zhao, the temple would suffer. I even blamed Lord Zhang, but now I understand. It’s true that monks should seek alms to build temples and statues, but since the halls are already in good condition and our 100 acres of land are sufficient for our basic needs, we shouldn’t have other ambitions.”

Zhang Yue wasn’t expecting the monks to refuse the donation. Observing the old monk, he noticed that his robe was extremely clean, though mended in several places with neat stitches. Although his face was full of wrinkles, there was no trace of hardship—instead, he seemed energetic. The old monk’s thin hands also had calluses, and dark stains could be seen under his nails, likely from daily farming.

At that moment, some of his previous doubts vanished, and he felt even more respect for the old monk. “With such virtue, the abbot is no less than those in famous temples,” he said, glancing at the disappointed young monk before changing his tone. “However, while the abbot can be so disciplined, applying the same standards to others might be too strict. These 200 taels mean little to me, but for your temple, they could mean a slightly easier year ahead.”

The old monk frowned in thought before smiling and saying, “I had thought too much. It is indeed as the lord says. In that case, I will accept this offering money. In times of natural disasters or calamities, I can use it to run a soup kitchen and distribute clothes, so that those who come to offer sacrifices to this temple are not in vain. At that time, I will say it is the lord’s generosity. Please do not think I am passing off someone else as him.”

Thinking he would need to persuade the monk at great length, Zhang Yue was pleased to see the abbot’s quick agreement. He nodded with a smile as the young monk happily took the silver from Peng Shisan. With no outsiders around, he remembered his true purpose. After a brief thought, he asked, “I heard that the master belongs to the Pure Land School. I would like to ask a question today. People say that the White Lotus Sect originated from the White Lotus Society in the Eastern Jin Dynasty, modeled after the Pure Land School to create its own sect. Is that true?”

“Although the Pure Land School is not as famous as the Zen, Vinaya, or Tiantai schools today, all who follow it worship our Buddha. How can it be compared to those heretical sects?”

The old monk, who had been kind-faced moments earlier, suddenly changed expression, seemingly forgetting that he was in the presence of the local magistrate. He angrilydenouncedured, “The White Lotus Sect was created by Mao Ziyuan, who stole the name of the eminent monk Huiyuan’s ‘White Lotus Society Lectures’ to incite the people. His intentions are not only evil but also punishable by law. Moreover, it does not emphasize meditation or concentration; one only needs to recite Buddha’s name to ascend to heaven. This is nothing but deceiving the common people. Is cultivation really that simple?”

The more he spoke, the angrier he became. He even stood up and walked back and forth barefoot on the cold ground. “The imperial court has banned the White Lotus Sect, yet it has repeatedly damaged the reputation of our Pure Land School. I truly hate these three words…”

After venting his anger, the old monk finally noticed Zhang Yue sitting there staring at him. His face turned red, and he remembered that it was inappropriate for a monk to lose his temper. He quickly began to chant Buddha’s name with his prayer beads. After a while, he sat back down on the cushion in the center, apologizing with a sorry expression, “Please forgive me, lord. I really went too far. During the Song and Yuan dynasties, many people used the name of the Pure Land School to form societies. Some of them were led by our own masters of the Pure Land School, but many others were not meant to encourage goodness but to incite the people. Alas, it would be better to cultivate in peace at home rather than get involved with such heretical sects.”

Although Zhang Yue felt that the old monk probably wasn’t lying, he still couldn’t trust him completely. Pressuring him further would have been too obvious, so he had no choice but to change the subject and ask a few questions about the teachings of the Pure Land School. Perhaps because it had been a long time since he’d met someone interested in these teachings, the old monk talked at length. Fortunately, he recounted stories about the predecessors of the Pure Land School, so it wasn’t too boring for the listener.

Finally managing to break away from the old monk’s monologue and leave the meditation room, Zhang Yue wore a thoughtful expression. Before meeting the abbot, he and Peng Shisan had wandered around the entire temple but found nothing suspicious, nor did it seem like a stronghold of the White Lotus Sect. If so, why had that mysterious woman at the Buddha Mother Festival mentioned this place?

As he walked along the stone path toward the temple gate, he saw someone riding a horse speeding toward them. Before the horse even came to a stop, a man jumped off quickly—it was a servant from his household. Realizing something urgent must be at hand, he hurried down the steps. Sure enough, the servant approached swiftly, bowed, and reported, “Young master, there’s an urgent message from the Duke of Britain in Beijing. The messenger is waiting anxiously at the yamen.”