You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"The Living Buddha! The Living Buddha has arrived!"

"Look, a lotus flower! It really is a lotus flower!"

"Amitabha Buddha, Amitabha Buddha, what good deeds have I accumulated to be able to meet such a divine monk..."

Some people knelt down, some clasped their hands together, some were moved to tears, and some held their children above their heads to get a better look.

The whole street seemed to come alive.

The two monks, however, seemed not to hear these sounds.

Their gazes were calm as water, their faces serene as clouds, as they walked step by step through the crowd, heading straight for the Bodhi tree in the center of the village.

They stopped under the tree.

One of the monks took out a small clean bottle from his sleeve. The bottle was tilted, and a thin, shiny line of clear water flowed out of it, like a silver thread.

The water fell at the roots of the Pippala tree and seeped into the soil. The roots seemed to sense something and trembled slightly. The leaves of the tree rustled, as if responding or thanking the tree.

Another monk walked up to the tree, stretched out his hands, and gently plucked two leaves.

The leaf was neither too big nor too small, emerald green in color, with clearly visible veins. The monk carefully tucked the leaf into his sleeve, turned to exchange a glance with his companion, and nodded slightly.

Then they turned around and walked slowly along the way they had come from.

The crowd erupted in another uproar. Some chased after the crowd, wanting to get a closer look; some knelt on the ground and refused to get up; and some cried out, "Living Buddha, please stay!"

But the two monks walked at a steady pace, their bare feet treading on the stone path, each step a lotus flower, until they gradually walked away and disappeared into the end of the street.

Qi Fei stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed, leaning against a wooden pillar by the roadside, his eyes fixed on the two figures.

His eyes shone with a faint light as he watched the two golden lotuses bloom and fade away on the stone path.

Qi Fei sensed fluctuations of magical power emanating from them.

That fluctuation is the true Dharma, the genuine and pure Dharma of cultivation, not the superficial and false Dharma of Zhu Yixin.

More importantly, the monks' clothes looked familiar, like someone he had seen before.

Zen Madman.

The monk who argued with him about "Ganlin Brew" outside Nanshan Town was wearing this kind of monk's robe.

They seem to be from the same school?

Qi Fei thought for a moment. He waited until the crowd dispersed, until the streets returned to calm, and until the last wisp of golden light from the two lotus flowers disappeared into the air before he followed them.

He didn't get too close, nor did he try to hide himself; he simply followed behind at a leisurely pace, like a fellow traveler on the same route.

However, the two monks did not return to the mountain gate.

For the next few days, they wandered around the surrounding villages.

From one village to another, from one mountain to another, wherever they went, there was something that the locals considered "efficacious."

Sometimes it's a peculiar rock, sometimes a well, and sometimes just a random little river mouth.

Wherever they went, the two monks did the same thing: they stood in front of the "spirit," put their hands together, closed their eyes for a moment, and then took out a clean bottle and poured some water on the roots, the cracks in the rocks, or the edge of the well.

Then they take away the "spiritual objects," such as the soil under the stones, and the water from the well and the river.

After doing all this, they turned and left without stopping, without talking to anyone, and only gave a slight nod to the villagers who were kneeling and kowtowing, without stopping.

Qi Fei followed them for several days, but still couldn't figure out what they were doing.

On the fifth day, he entered a forest.

The forest wasn't large. As Qi Fei was walking, he suddenly felt something shake above his head.

He raised his head.

A bald head hung down from the tree trunk above.

No, it wasn't a bald man, but a monk.

The monk was hanging upside down on a tree branch, his legs hooked around the trunk, his body suspended in mid-air, his head pointing downwards, like a bat resting upside down.

His face was no more than three feet away from Qi Fei's, and his features were clearly discernible. This allowed Qi Fei to see that he had thick eyebrows, large eyes, a high nose bridge, and a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Oh dear," the monk said, "what are you trying to do, sneaking around following my two nephews like that?"

Qi Fei was stunned for a moment, then regained his composure.

He looked up at the bald man hanging upside down and said calmly, "Monk, your names aren't written on this road. How do you know I'm not going that way?"

Upon hearing this, the monk's eyes lit up, and he flipped himself down from the tree.

He squatted down, extended his index finger, and wrote two words on the muddy ground in the woods.

"Zen Mind".

After finishing writing, he straightened up, dusted off his hands, pointed to the words on the ground, and said confidently, "Now, this road belongs to our 'Zen Heart Temple'."

Qi Fei: "..."

"Sword" couldn't help but think to Qi Fei, "This guy is so annoying! Can I take him down?"

Qi Fei neither made a move nor said anything. He simply squatted down and slowly added a few words next to those two characters.

He wrote carefully, stroke by stroke. After finishing, he tilted his head and examined his "work" for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction.

The words "Zen Mind" have been changed to "This road does not belong to Zen Mind Temple".

He's never lost a magic-on-magic duel.

The monk looked down at the words on the ground and stared blankly for a long time.

He blinked, then blinked again, as if to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Then he raised his head and looked at Qi Fei, his eyes filled with something complex and indescribable, a mixture of surprise, as well as a hint of... mutual appreciation.

No, this person is just as shameless as him?

The monk's eyes seemed to have discovered some incredible treasure.

He clasped his hands together, his nonchalant expression fading somewhat, replaced by a solemn look, as if he were announcing some important news.

Amitabha Buddha.

He recited a line of poetry: "Treading through a thousand clouds in an empty mountain, I neither chant Buddha's name nor think of myself. I laugh at the upside-down universe, for all things are empty, and so is my mind."

Then he said, "This humble monk is Chan Kong, and you, benefactor, have a special connection with our Chan Xin Temple!"

Qi Fei looked at him and asked in return, "Is everyone at Chanxin Temple this...unconventional?"

Zen Master Kong smiled slightly and said, "Actually, you meant to say 'shameless,' right?"

Qi Fei's lips twitched slightly as he said, "...Is everyone at Chanxin Temple so shameless, even proud of it?"

Upon hearing this, the monk Chankong showed no embarrassment whatsoever.

He said slowly, "The so-called 'form is emptiness, emptiness is form' is also true."

"Where is 'shame'? Where is 'honor'? It's all just empty illusions."

"You feel both shame and honor, but that means you're still caught up in those feelings. I've long since let go of those notions of 'shame' and 'honor.' Are you... still unable to let go?"

Qi Fei said, "This is the first time I've seen someone put shamelessness so brazenly."