I became an immortal in the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 167 Abbot, Wanderer
"I think your master should be able to help, at least it can cure cravings..."

The old monk muttered something, as if he had caught a chill from the wind. He leaned shakily against the cushion, his robe draped over his thin, short frame, like a piece of decaying wood. He was indeed old.

Just as the disciple was thinking this, he suddenly heard the old monk call out.

"Remember my sour plum drink!"

"Plum juice tastes best when it's chilled," the disciple said. "It's the dead of winter now, why drink something iced?"

"Then let it freeze outside..."

The disciple looked at his master, whose eyes were already closed. This old monk was very stubborn and had a gluttonous appetite. He shook his head and went out to brew a steaming pot of plum juice. Half an hour later, the aroma filled the air.

He walked from the kitchen to the monks' quarters where the abbot lived.

On the way, someone hurriedly called out to me.

The servant was dressed in a thick winter coat with a fur collar and felt boots; he was clearly a servant from a wealthy family who was close to his master.

He waited nearby for a long time and finally captured the abbot's disciple.

The servant breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly asked:
"Master Yanshou, is your esteemed master, Dharma Master Zhiyuan, in the presence of him?"

“My young master is a devout Buddhist, and I had heard that the abbot is a master of Buddhism. We have been waiting for a day now, and I don’t know when we will be able to meet the abbot.”

The servant looked slightly embarrassed, then smiled and explained.

“My young master will be going to Chang’an to study in a while, and he should set off after the new year. Time is not very long, and before leaving Yanzhou, he would like to see the abbot one last time…”

The disciple stood still, holding the medicine urn.

He smiled and said:
"My master was with distinguished guests yesterday and we were unable to meet him. He caught a cold today and is about to take medicine. Please come again tomorrow, Mr. Luo."

The servant looked at the brown earthenware jar, which indeed resembled a medicine jar.

Take a closer sniff.

It seems to have a slightly sweet and sour aroma...

Maybe they added licorice and brown sugar.

Monks do not lie, and the abbot of Puzhao Temple is a famous monk in Yanzhou, so there is nothing to deceive them about.

The servant expressed his concern with a few words.

"How is the abbot's health? If he is short of any medicinal herbs, our Luo family can send them over."

The disciple shook his head.

He said gently.

"It's just a bit of a cold from the wind, nothing serious. But Master is getting old and his health isn't good, so he needs to be extra careful. I've kept you waiting, Young Master Luo."

"You're too kind!"

The servant hurriedly spoke, then noticed that the medicine urn was quite heavy and asked thoughtfully.

"Would you like me to help you carry it inside?"

If you take it in, will you see an old monk slacking off in his quarters? The disciple smiled slightly and declined.

"No need for that, layman. You are too polite. As disciples, we should take care of our master."

As the servant watched his disciple turn and leave, he suddenly remembered something.

Ask respectfully.

"I wonder who this distinguished guest is? To be able to converse with the abbot, he must be a highly virtuous master."

The disciple paused in his steps.

Recalling his master's conversation with the man in blue, he had overheard a bit of it.

They spoke of mountains and rivers, strange tales, and the beauty of nature, their knowledge of the world reaching its peak. Even when casually mentioning a mountain god, there was little reverence in their voice; it was as if they were speaking of a child.

His tone was gentle, tolerant, and magnanimous.

The disciple slowly said:
"That person... Master told us to treat him with respect. We don't know his identity, we only know that he is a wanderer."

Liu Lang enjoys making friends, especially those of noble status and virtuous character.

The servant asked:
Do you know my name?

The disciple shook his head.

"That gentleman did not wish to disclose the details," he said apologetically. "It's getting late, and my master is waiting to take his medicine, so I'll head back now."

"Take care, Master Yanshou."

The disciple gradually walked away.

The servant glanced at it a couple more times and then went back to report.

Upon arriving at his master's quarters, the disciple carried the medicine jar onto the table, his face red from the cold wind.

The old monk lay on the couch with his eyes closed, a cushion under his head. Hearing the sound, he nimbly got up from the couch, his movements agile, not at all like a man in his sixties.

"Yanshou, how many pieces of brown sugar did you put in?" Opening the lid, steaming vapors wafted out, their sweet and sour aroma making one's mouth water.

After finishing a bowl, the abbot gave his comments.

"It tastes better iced."

The disciple's tone was unfriendly: "Then you really have caught a cold!"

The abbot laughed and took the opportunity to serve himself another bowl.

The disciple asked.

"Master, where did your teeth go?"

"I threw it under that pine tree. It was my upper tooth. When I was little, we always threw our upper teeth on the ground..."

The disciple held the bowl and drank.

It's sweet and sour, and warm, and it really makes your stomach feel comfortable.

A cold wind was blowing outside, while the temple was crowded with worshippers, each with their own requests.

The master and apprentice sat facing each other, each holding a bowl of steaming plum juice, chatting as they drank. The steam rising from the medicine stove enveloped their figures.

……

……

Luo Liulang had been waiting all day.

Being the son of a governor is not a common occurrence.

But the abbot of Puzhao Temple was old, highly learned in Buddhism, and virtuous, so he naturally had to wait patiently.

When Luo Liulang picked up the tea from Puzhao Temple, he frowned slightly as he took a sip. It was clear and watery, with a bitter taste.

Beside him, a pretty maid held a book.

Reading.

Zhang Pingzi said: Fan Ye's "Book of the Later Han" states: Zhang Heng, courtesy name Pingzi, was a native of Xi'e in Nanyang. He was skilled in writing from a young age. At that time, the world had been at peace for a long time...

The sentences are read neatly and the voice is clear.

The servant rushed back in the cold wind and saw Liu Lang sitting cross-legged on the mat, listening to the maid reading an article.

"Mukuro."

Luo Liulang waved his hand, signaling the maid to stop reading.

He looked over.

The servant bowed with his hands clasped and said, "The abbot of Puzhao Temple had distinguished guests yesterday and could not entertain you, sir. He has also caught a cold today. He wishes to see you tomorrow."

"Dignified guest?"

Luo Liulang raised his eyebrows slightly, looked up and asked, "Who is it?"

"I don't know his name, but I've heard that the abbot respects him greatly and has his disciples call him 'Master'."

Luo Liulang felt a surge of curiosity.

I don't know who it is, but I can ask the abbot when I see him tomorrow.

She actually refused to meet with that important guest, who must be incredibly "important" to her.

Behind him, a servant gently pressed his head.

He whispered:
"Sixth Prince, there's no need to worry too much about Prince Qi and Prince Hedong. The Emperor has left many imperial physicians at the palace, so they should recover soon."

"Even if something happens to his health that's hard to say, it's none of my husband's business. He's been very busy lately, and the Emperor must have noticed. Maybe he'll even be included in an imperial painting by Wu Daozi!"

A servant nearby laughed and said.

"Sixth Brother's journey to the capital will surely be smooth sailing, so please don't worry."

"It would be more appropriate to have the abbot perform a proper ritual for Liulang tomorrow."

Luo Liulang's brows relaxed slightly.

He raised his hand and gave instructions to the maid.

"Keep reading."

The maid continued reading the anthology.

Hearing the sounds of reading aloud, the young man's worries were swept away like a light cloud by the chatter of his servants.

As for the few pedestrians I encountered on the road, I can't even remember them.

【Ask for monthly ticket】

(End of this chapter)