After walking out of the stone steps that are now covered with moss and thorns, I finally arrived at the valley where Jian Wuzheng said the temple was located.

It is obvious that the sun is not seen in this valley for many years. Various shady snakes and insects are everywhere under the tiles of the walls. The wind blows through the ears, and a smell of mildew comes to the nose.

Jian Wuzheng looked at the broken temple that had collapsed for more than half, and his eyes were so dim.

Decades ago, he couldn't save it. Decades later, the same was true.

Seeing that it was getting late, Jiang Baochan hurriedly urged Jian Wuzheng to go in first to make a fire.

In such places where snakes and insects gather, if the fire is not generated in time, the ghost will know what two living people will attract.

As the flames gradually rose among the wreckage of the broken tables and chairs, the sky became darker and darker. In the dim twilight, there were whispers of insects.

Jian Wuzheng used flames to heat up the dried steamed buns he carried with him, and broke them apart and handed them to Jiang Baochan. Jiang Baochan took them silently. The two of them ate the steamed buns and chewed the meat strips. Perhaps in this environment, they would really be silent unnaturally.

Maybe he swallowed hard in one mouthful. Jian Wuzheng rolled his eyes, pounded his chest a few times, and worked hard for a long time before swallowing the dry steamed bun.

Jiang Baochan glanced at Jian Wuzheng, who looked pale, and was also helpless towards this guy who had no elder style. He had to shake his head: "Why do you have to swallow it if you can't swallow it? You can't drink water?"

Jian Wuzheng snorted coldly: "Are you not afraid of drinking the water in this temple and being poisoned to death?"

The little marquis licked off the last bit of oil on his fingertips: "I have a water bag on my side."

"Where is your horse?" Jian Wuzheng sneered: "Little Marquis, where is your... horse?"

It was not until this moment that Jiang Baochan suddenly realized that he always felt something was missing. It turned out that the horse was gone?!

Looking at the little Baochan who sat back to the campfire with a wry smile, Jian Wuzheng stood up and patted the dust on his butt, walked to the altar, and found three of the broken bamboo incense sticks that were quite intact. He lit it with candlelight, bowed three times, and inserted it into the small tripod held by three bronze men with thumbs high.

Another slightly shorter one was taken out of the pile of incense, lit it, bowed and inserted it in front of a dusty tablet.

After doing this series of things, Jian Wuming turned over and jumped onto the altar, took a detour behind the Buddha statue, and found a dusty clay jar from where he found it.

With a slight blow, the house was covered with dust.

When the dust settled, Jian Wuzheng wiped his face with his sleeve. He slapped the open-cloth mud with his palm and pulled off the red cloth that had turned white on his head.

A faint fragrance gradually spread throughout the house.

"Wine?" The monk's hiding wine in the temple?! This is a great disrespect to the Buddha!

Jian Wuzheng glanced at him, raised the jar and gulped several big mouthfuls, and then handed Jiang Baochan the much lighter jar: "Do you drink it?"

Drinking, anyway, it was originally a disrespectful master of gods and Buddhas, so there was no taboo. However, drinking in the monk temple was really a bit of a taste.

Jiang Baochan held up the jar of wine and drank the remaining half of the jar of land without hesitation to the bottom.

Don’t say that compared with the local wine outside, this wine has less spicy flavor, which is more sweet and refreshing, and has a bit more fruity aroma than the rice wine that is also sweet.

"Drinking it?"

Jiang Baochan nodded and placed the empty jar aside.

"Then let's sleep." Jian Wuzhen pushed the fire aside with a table leg that was thick with wrists, revealing the white blue bricks on his lower head: "Sleep this, warm."

Jiang Baochan nodded and slept on the somewhat hot blue brick with his clothes. A trace of heat kept steaming and roasting from behind, removing the cold air from his body. The roasted person was warm all over and unconsciously wanted to fall asleep.

Jian Wuzheng went back and hugged some broken tables and chairs, broke them and put them aside for later use. Seeing that Jiang Baochan was sleepy and forced to hold his eyes unwilling to close his eyes, Jian Wuzheng snorted: "There is realgar in the wine, and I am guarding the bonfire, so you can sleep with confidence."

Jiang Baochan narrowed his eyes and smiled: "I will call you Lao Jian from now on, Uncle Jian is calling you strange."

Jian Wujian was too lazy to pay attention to him, so he fiddled with the firewood for a few strokes, which made the fire more prosperous.

"Old Jian, who is the tablet you worshipped just now?"

"Old Friend"
Chapter completed!