Killing Monks

A short while later, a fat figure stumbled out from inside.

Master Hu was panting heavily, a thin layer of sweat beading on his forehead. He stopped three steps away from Guangyuan, his legs trembling.

"Master...you've arrived."

Guangyuan smiled slightly.

"I told you I'd come back. I wasn't lying, was I?"

"No, no..." Master Hu shook his head frantically, his fat face jiggling. "The master didn't lie to me, he didn't lie to me..."

When Guangyuan pulled out Hu Jiuye's son's tongue, he told Hu Jiuye that he would come back.

That's why Master Hu didn't dare to cause trouble for the mute Hu Dafu.

Guangyuan turned his head to look at Hu Dafu behind him.

Do you hate him?

The mute man did not speak because he could not utter a word.

But his eyes spoke volumes.

There was fire burning in those eyes.

A burning hatred.

How could he not hate?

If it weren't for this person in front of me, how could my father have mysteriously "disappeared"?

How could a mother commit suicide by mourning?

How could he have gone from a child with a home and a yard to a mute beggar on the street?

All those years of beatings, freezing cold, and swallowed grievances!

Everything was burning in those eyes right now!

"You really want to kill him, don't you?"

Guangyuan's voice was very calm, as if he were asking what to eat today.

Master Hu's face turned pale instantly.

"Master! Master!" He knelt down with a thud, clasped his hands together, and trembled all over. "I have reformed!"

"I eat vegetarian food and chant Buddhist prayers every day, and I dare not bully my neighbors anymore! Doesn't Buddhism say that you can become a Buddha by laying down your butcher's knife? I have already let go, I have truly let go!"

The mute man looked at Master Hu, who was kneeling on the ground trembling.

He nodded.

Yes, this person has indeed been very kind to him lately, bringing him food and clothing, and inviting him back to his old house.

But so what?

Can the suffering we endured over the years be erased?

Can a parent's life be brought back?

He never intended to kill anyone.

But looking at Master Hu now, he wanted to kill him.

Guangyuan looked at the mute man and asked again, "Do you want me to kill him for you, or do you want to practice martial arts and kill him yourself?"

The mute man raised his head and looked at Guangyuan.

He lowered his head again and looked at Master Hu, who was kneeling on the ground.

He gave a fierce look, gestured with both hands, pointed at Master Hu, and then pointed to his own chest.

The meaning couldn't be clearer: taking revenge oneself is the most satisfying.

But then he gestured again, pointing at Master Hu, chopping down with his palm, then waving his hand and pointing at Guangyuan.

Guangyuan understood.

The mute man wanted to say, "I can't wait. I don't want him to live another day."

Although Master Hu couldn't understand the gestures, he could feel the killing intent.

He jumped to his feet, turned, and ran towards the door, yelling, "Help! Help!!"

Guangyuan did not move.

He simply stood there, watching that fat figure from behind.

"Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot," his voice was not loud, but it clearly reached Master Hu's ears, "because the ghosts who died under the butcher's knife had no one to speak for them."

"But I'm different."

Master Hu's foot had just crossed the threshold.

A strong gust of wind swept in from behind.

He felt as if his back had been struck by a giant hammer, and he was sent flying, crashing heavily into the screen wall inside the door, then bounced back and lay sprawled on the threshold.

He never got up again.

Guangyuan glanced at the trembling servants inside the Hu family's gate.

"I won't kill you," he said. "You'd better watch yourselves."

No one dared to move. No one dared to utter a sound.

Guangyuan turned around and left the Hu family with the mute.

However, they did not leave Huji Town directly.

Because Hu Dafu tugged at Guangyuan's sleeve and gestured for a long time, finally making Guangyuan understand what he meant.

The two circled around to the outskirts of town, where a mass grave lay quietly on the hillside.

The weeds are waist-high, and the wild graves are scattered everywhere.

The mute man stopped in front of a nearly flattened earthen grave.

There was no tombstone in front of the grave, only a crooked stone.

The mute man knelt down, his forehead pressed against the soil.

a bit.

Two times.

Three times.

Three heads, bowing very slowly and heavily.

When he looked up, his eyes were red, but there were no tears.

Guangyuan stood aside without saying a word.

They traveled through wind and rain, sleeping outdoors. When thirsty, they drank from mountain springs; when hungry, they begged for alms in villages and towns along the way. Guangyuan didn't walk in a hurry, so the mute man silently followed, never asking where they were going or complaining of being tired.

After traveling for more than a month, a county town gradually came into view.

Qujiang County.

Guangyuan paused for a moment outside the city gate to determine the direction, and then led the mute man toward the Prajna Temple.

For nearly two months, no one had taken care of the Prajna Temple. A thin layer of dust had settled on the window frames, the offering table, and the shoulders of the Buddha statues.

Guangyuan looked around and nodded.

This was the place he and Hu Dafu chose to settle down.

The world may be vast, but this place is empty. There is no master, no people, and no strife.

"This is it," he said.

Hu Dafu stood in the courtyard, looking around blankly. He knew nothing about temples or spiritual practice.

But he knew that from now on, this would be his home.

I spent several days tidying up.

Guangyuan swept and cleaned, and Hu Dafu followed suit. Guangyuan organized the scriptures, and Hu Dafu handed him a rag.

The two worked together seamlessly; though they didn't speak, their communication was smoother than if they had.

A few days later, the small temple gradually took shape.

The incense burner in the main hall was polished to a shine, and fresh wildflowers were placed on the offering table in front of the Buddha statue.

The weeds in the courtyard were cleared away, the east wing was tidied up and turned into a bedroom, and the west wing was piled with firewood and miscellaneous items.

Guangyuan pasted a piece of paper on the door with four characters written on it: "Add incense as fate dictates."

Hu Dafu became the temple keeper of this small temple.

At first, not many people came.

Later, poor people from the neighborhood started passing by, stopping in to rest and pay their respects to Buddha.

They dared not go to the magnificent little Buddhist temple three miles away, because the incense money there was too expensive.

But everyone needs something to rely on, so I came here.

Guangyuan's incense is very cheap. Sometimes, when they see someone who is really poor, they will ask Hu Dafu to serve them a bowl of porridge.

Hu Dafu gradually got used to life here.

Every morning, I get up early to open the door, sweep the yard, and add incense.

He would nod when someone came, and sit on the doorstep to bask in the sun when no one came.

He still couldn't speak, but the poor people who came to burn incense gradually remembered him. When they saw him, they would smile and nod, calling him "the mute master".

He wasn't annoyed.

He knew that wasn't an insult.

After a few days, Guangyuan saw that Hu Dafu had become familiar with the affairs of the temple, so he packed a small bundle and prepared to go out.

"I need to go out for a while," he said to Hu Dafu. "To find someone."

Hu Dafu was stunned for a moment, then a worried look appeared on his face.

Guangyuan understood what he meant.

"Don't worry, I'll be back," he said. "I'm leaving this place to you."

Hu Dafu opened his mouth, but in the end he just nodded vigorously.

With this temple, he can make a living from it, and even without Guangyuan, he can live like a human being.

The person Guangyuan is looking for is Chu Kuangjun's master.