Eat the incense of the world, I am actually the underworld

Chapter 139 Huitong Temple

Fenghe County, Xiaoyi, Yunzhou.

Although the city is small, there are many wealthy households in the city.

Especially in Dongyu Lane, the street is wide and there are many vermilion buildings. On the Qingshi street, stone lions and amulets are drawn to ward off evil spirits and eliminate disasters, and welcome good luck and happiness.

In such a wealthy place, there are naturally no shortage of merchants and shops around.

Even the lesser-known street vendors, smelling the popularity, gathered together.

Just in the lee of Dongyu Alley, there is a soup cake stand, billowing steam, which looks very attractive in the cold wind.

No, a Taoist in Tsing Yi walked here, and after a while, he came straight and ordered a bowl.

The stall owner is a dark man wearing a turban. Hearing a visitor, he takes out the already-kneaded dough from the wooden basin, rubs it as big as chopsticks, breaks it one foot at a time, soaks it in cold water, and throws it into a boiling kettle.

When it comes out of the pan, sprinkle a layer of chopped coriander, and a bowl of soup cakes is freshly baked.

Monk Dengcao described it vividly.

"There are so many wealthy households in Dongyu Lane, why should laymen only look at the poor one?"

Mo Chuan said: "No, they are from Jizhou."

The Zhao family was able to silence the parties involved, but not the local evil spirits.

This temple is located about seven miles west of Fenghe City. It is named Huitong Temple. It is rumored that it is a thousand-year-old temple.

Monk Deng Cao hurriedly kowtowed solemnly to the empty table, and then slowly exited the Yangshen Temple.

Especially the suspect who killed the woman in red—the master of the Zhao family.

"Master Dao doesn't know. The field in Zichoupo is full of coriander. Not to mention that the mage in the temple loves it, we also like it. This coriander is a good thing. It is cold-resistant and does not pick the ground. It is chopped and mixed. Serve with crushed peanuts, sprinkle some condiments, tsk tsk, it smells amazing."

In front of the temple gate, tourists come in twos and threes.

The old man was in a hurry, and when he lowered his head to pick up the money, Mo Chuan had already disappeared.

The two did the work of five people and received three people's money.

Compared with the resplendent Huitong Temple, I wonder who is the county seat and who is the Qingdeng Buddhist Temple?

"The little monk didn't dare to be negligent about what Master Dao ordered. He asked a lot of monsters on the sidelines, and it was basically the same."

After Mo Chuan inquired so far, he wanted to go to the mansion to arrest an old man for questioning, but he was afraid that he would startle the snake, so he had to give up for the time being.

——Since it is delivering food, it has its own back door to respond.

The little novice showed hesitation.

The child lowered his head and looked at the cotton shoes with his mouth open. He didn't dare to look at Mo Chuan, he was very embarrassed.

While the stall owner was talking eloquently, Mo Chuan finally had a basic understanding of Dongyu Lane.

"Daoist... Daoist..."

"By the way, what is Daoist doing in Huitong Temple?"

The old beggar was smiling all over his face, speaking incoherently, and pushed the child towards Mo Chuan as he spoke.

It was the case of Queen Yingying in red that he was most concerned about, which happened more than ten years ago. Not to mention knowing about it, the stall owner didn't even know about it.

The little novice monk at the gate saw Mo Chuan and hurried forward to ask.

His position can be called a fat job, and he is very rich.

"Oh, let's hear it."

Mo Chuan understood.

It is said that after only one year in Fenghe County, thousands of acres of fertile land were set up, which is amazing.

Mo Chuan reached out to stop the salesman from the old beggar: "Don't say any more, Layman, the poor Taoist has heard that the Huitong Temple has a good fortune, you might as well be a tenant farmer, keep the money, save a little, and survive until the summer rent, you should Not a problem."

Mo Chuan glanced at the sun, and after identifying the direction, he adjusted his height with the technique of size and size, and changed his appearance with the technique of spraying, before walking away.

The old beggar became more and more miserable when he heard the words, and wiped the corners of his eyes and said: "I didn't lie to the Taoist priest, the Futian Temple of Huitong Chan Temple is true, but the tenants are also farming a lot! Their Futian rents are not paid, and the tenants are willing to cultivate more. Those who receive ten mu are considered a small number, and those who receive more are said to have received twenty mu."

The old man took it for granted, but sighed endlessly: "Bodhisattva, bless you, those lands used to belong to the lords in the city, but now they are cured, and they have returned to Huitong Temple and become Futian. After paying the rent every year, the rest is not only enough Drink the old snacks at home, and there will be a lot left over!"

The stall owner said: "Eat your cake, can I say that?"

After following the master for a long time, he naturally felt the master's temperament. He knew what he could say and what he couldn't say.

It's just that the eyes are looking around dishonestly, with no guts.

Mo Chuan set foot on the mountain road alone, and when he approached, he subconsciously stopped, looked up at the couplet beside the door, and subconsciously began to chant.

Just in time, a scent of incense curled up, interrupting his gloomy melancholy.

"Find someone."

"It is said that the red-clothed ghost only kills one person every night, which is quite regular. No matter where the victim flees, he will be killed and brought back to the Zhao residence..."

The stall owner was surprised when he heard the words: "Yo, the Taoist master has a good tongue, and he can see it in one bite. To tell the truth, our soup cakes are made of fine silk sifted noodles and mixed with secret gravy, which is called Fenghe unique. Even the gentlemen in East Elm Lane are regular customers."

Mo Chuan answered everything fluently.

After much deliberation, he simply left the city, summoned the monk Dengcao, stretched out his finger, and the size and size were blown up as he wished, making him as big as a child, and his cultivation base increased dramatically.

However, he is also used to the barrenness of this world.

"There was a murder in Zhao's Mansion in East Yu Lane of this city more than ten years ago. You should ask the evil spirits nearby to inquire about it. Remember, don't startle the snake. If there is any news, please call me with an incense stick."

Mo Chuan glanced at the bamboo basket and asked, "It's the cold winter months, what kind of food did the old man send?"

Looking back, I saw an old beggar with unkempt hair and unidentified gender, leading a skinny child with a smile on his face.

Mo Chuan felt a chill in his heart, dropped a penny, turned around and left.

Hearing this, he turned around, and when he saw Mo Chuan smiled, he said, "Coincidentally, the old man is going to deliver food to Huitong Temple!"

"Dao, Daoist, I am a local, I know the Futian Temple of Huitong Temple, but they don't want tenant farmers anymore, I, I really have no way out, it doesn't matter if I starve to death, I can't let my family burn out ah!"

Raise your head three feet and there is a god.

Mo Chuan was not interested in these things that made the villagers envious and jealous.

"Smile as soon as you open your mouth, laugh at the ancients, and laugh at everything today; a big belly can tolerate everything in the world."

Sure enough, before he finished speaking, Mo Chuan asked expressionlessly.

Looking at Mo Chuan, who was dressed in green clothes, all cast strange glances.

After arriving here, the old man parted ways with Mo Chuan.

Mo Chuan was shocked: "All these [-] mu of fertile land belong to Huitong Temple, so what are the nearby farmers doing?"

Mo Chuan was overjoyed: "Oh, what a coincidence, it just happens to be a companion."

Sure enough, when he heard about the red-clothed ghost, he realized that the root cause must be the red-clothed ghost, so he naturally found out the red-clothed ghost's heels.

Even the little novice in front of the door approached in surprise, clasped his hands together and read out the Buddha's name: "Amitabha, dare I ask if you are here for a long time as a visitor or as a general pilgrim?"

"Returning to Master Dao, about 14 years ago, there was indeed a, no, a series of murders in Zhao's Mansion in Fenghe County."

As the old man said, he spat on the palm of his hand and was about to rub the baby's face away.

"Daoist... Daoist..."

Huitong Temple covers a large area, with buildings like clouds, full of beautiful things in eyes.

……

After the old beggar finished speaking, he tried his best to sell the doll again.

"This……"

The city walls are mottled, the bricks and stones are crumbling, and the roads in the city are muddy.

Reentering Fenghe County, Mo Chuan suddenly discovered that this small town was so dilapidated.

Mo Chuan said: "It sounds like there are many blessing fields in the temple?"

Seeing this, Mo Chuan quickly reached into his sleeve, took out a small string of copper coins and handed it over.

Monk Deng Cao hurriedly bowed his hands and turned to leave.

He then walked to the dark alley, looked around, saw no one passing by, and fled into the sacrificial stove for a moment.

Mo Chuan took a slight breath when he heard the words, and vaguely guessed the truth.

In the Yangshen Temple, Monk Dengcao, who was caught in a ray of incense, was looking around curiously. When he saw Mo Chuan suddenly appearing, he was startled and hurriedly bowed his head.

"It's a good mood!"

……

After some visits, Mo Chuan praised him, then left.

"Huitong Temple has arrived."

"It is said that the red-clothed ghost was originally Fenghe Zhao Jincao's personal maid, and by mistake, he moved Hongluan. I don't want to, that Mrs. Zhao Jincao is a jealous person. After knowing this, she became Zhao Jincao's In front of you, reward the maidservant to the housekeeper..."

When the soup cakes were served, Mo Chuan picked up his chopsticks and took a closer look. Under the soup with finely chopped coriander floating, there were lumps of soup cakes, and a few pieces of lard flowers dotted with clear soup with little water. It looked really bad.

The old man didn't hear the sarcasm in Mo Chuan's words, and said with a proud face:

——He intends to visit the temple where the suspect of the Zhao family is housed, and the woman in red fears and hates him!

"Daoist, accept the dog egg, don't look at him as thin, he is really strong."

Monk Deng Cao was overjoyed, and he knew that it was definitely not an ordinary thing for Daoist to ask him to investigate the matter.

The diner smiled and said, "Really? Tell me who is there?"

Seeing the sling of money Mo Chuan handed over, the old beggar burst into tears, stretched out his hand to take it, looked down at the baby, and froze in mid-air again.

——Mo Chuan's praise before, but it was still fresh in his memory, so he recognized it at a glance.

"Pindao heard an old incident in the city, and he was quite confused, so he wanted to ask the abbot to clarify his doubts, and asked the abbot to inform him."

"No!"

Cilantro too!
"Hey, the temple is very rich, and you can still eat fresh vegetables in the cold winter?"

During the chat, the old man pointed his mouth forward.

Coriander, coriander of the coriander.

"Master Dao, you asked the monk to inquire about the news, and the monk has already inquired clearly."

Next to Huitong Temple, Mo Chuan looked at the red walls and yellow tiles of Huitong Temple, and felt that it was very eye-catching.

Turning a street corner, Mo Chuan breathed a sigh of relief, but his heart grew heavier.

I don't know if it's family ugliness that can't be publicized, and the Zhao family blocked the news?
Or did the woman in red kill the murderer, but instead blocked the spread of the news?

The child still lowered his head and made no sound, stunned like a log.

Led by the little novice, Mo Chuan entered the Buddhist temple and began to visit at will.

Not long after, an old monk was found to take over the young novice monk, and all sorts of insinuations were unavoidable during this period.

No way, the old beggar waved his hands again and again, blushing: "Master Daoist, I don't want money, can I, can I ask you something?"

Mo Chuan said in a gentle manner.

Mo Chuan looked at it and sighed.

"Checked."

The old man smiled and said: "Yes, yes, from Zichoupo in the north to the foot of Shoushan Mountain in the south, there may be ten thousand mu of fertile land, all of which belong to Huitong Temple."

Mo Chuan nodded and stepped in.

Mo Chuan waved his hand and refused: "The poor are living everywhere, and I am used to being alone, so I don't accept apprentices!"

The old beggar looked embarrassed and said: "Can the Taoist priest still accept disciples? No, no, no, a young novice is fine. I just see the Taoist priest alone, it's hard work! This is my son, willing to endure hardships, and has great strength Le, let him follow the Taoist priest, serving tea and pouring water, he can do everything, really."

Mo Chuan frowned when he heard the words: "Isn't that right, Huitong Temple has a vast expanse of land, why is there a shortage of people?"

"Daozhang, why did you go and come back?"

"..."

Mo Chuan hit the snake with a stick when he heard the words: "The poor man looks at this street and alley quite magnificently, whose mansion is this?"

Walking halfway, I happened to meet an old man who was carrying vegetables and heading west. Mo Chuan approached him and asked, "Stay back, old man. Dare I ask how to get to Huitong Temple?"

A series of timid voices came from behind.

Monk Deng Cao hurriedly heard the news and said it in detail.

Mo Chuan nodded, took a deep breath, popped out a wisp of incense with his fingers, and left the Yangshen Temple in a flash.

"Coriander, the mages in the temple love to eat it."

"Thank you for the gift!"

"This is caused by the red-clothed ghost, so the memory of the local evil spirits is quite fresh."

"Is the news ever true?"

"Yes, Lord Dao."

"Of course you're a sharecropper?"

Monk Deng Cao stuttered after speaking.

Stall owner: "No wonder! Speaking of Dongyu Lane, it has a lot of background..."

It was almost dusk at this time, the pilgrims were all gone, and the temple was about to close to thank visitors.

This is the curse of involution.

Before the stall owner finished speaking, diners teased from the side: "Master, why can't you eat delicacies from mountains and seas, and still come to eat your stomach-filling soup cake? Why haven't I seen it before?"

Mo Chuan cupped his hands and said: "Poverty Taoist is a wandering Taoist priest. When he traveled to a treasured place, he heard that your monastery offered benefits to believers. He was quite yearning for it, so he came to pay his respects."

The stall owner was in a hurry: "Go, go, you know what a fart, the gentlemen won't come if they don't fall below, but they won't send their servants?"

The stall owner blushed immediately when he heard the words: "Listen to the accent, isn't Daoist a local?"

Mo Chuan looked up, and saw a building with red walls and yellow tiles, located at the foot of the mountain, shining brightly under the sunlight.

"The rich family has to pay taxes no matter how rich they are. How can they be as carefree as the Daoist? Daoist, Daoist, my doll has been washed, and it is no worse than that girl Jiao'e..."

"Can you find out the origin of that red-clothed ghost?"

It looks quite a bit like sliced ​​noodles.

Mo Chuan ordered.

The old man was wearing a coir raincoat and carried a bamboo basket on his shoulders, making his movements quite inconvenient.

The little novice immediately smiled when he heard the words: "It turns out that the Buddha is here, and the Taoist priest is here!"

"The soup cakes are here!"

After a long breath, it turned out to be very smooth and beautiful, and said in surprise: "Master, is there something added to this dough?"

Mo Chuan said: "But it's okay to say."

The old man laughed: "Medium!"

Looking at the incense, it was the monk Deng Cao who was sent to inquire about the news.

"Yes!"

It is said that the master of the Zhao Mansion is not a local gentry, but an official who moved from the left. He belongs to the Qingli Department and serves as Jincao.

The old beggar was in a hurry: "Daoist, my son can really endure hardships. Look at the cold winter months, and there are many servants around..."

It can be seen that the joker should be a regular customer, and the words are too presumptuous.

Visiting at this time, could it be...Cengzhai meal is here?

If I go to report this, I am afraid that I will be scolded by the masters and will not refuse.

Seeing the little novice showing hesitation, Mo Chuan waved his hand and summoned a gust of wind, blowing sand and rocks in front of the temple.

Seeing this, the little novice paled in astonishment, backed away again and again, and said in a panic: "Taoist chief, wait a moment, the little monk will report to Yamato."

(End of this chapter)