Before sunset, Wan Yankang and his party went down the mountain and returned to the temple.
The evening drums of the evening classes at Anguo Temple were melodious and solemn, Chixi's formation was completed, and Mrs. Bao walked out of the temple gate with her two maids.
Since there were so many people affected by the disaster, it was not safe to travel at night, so she finally listened to Wanyan Kang's suggestion and prepared to return to the city early.
"Kang'er, mother promised to return to the city first, but you must also promise mother to be careful and pay attention to safety."
"Mother, when you get back, ask someone to bring you the Zhaoye jade lion you like."
Mrs. Bao stepped forward to adjust Wanyan Kang's clothes, with a happy smile on her face. This time she came to Anguo Temple, she found that her son had really changed.
"Don't worry, mother. I'll stay here to help the temple prepare for disaster relief, and I'll go back in a day or two. General Chixi, be sure to ensure my mother's safety on the way."
Chi Xi held up his hands as a gift: "The last general will accept your order!"
After that, Chi Xi got on his horse, and after Bao entered the sedan, he took the lead in leading some of the cavalry to clear the way. Bao opened the sedan curtain and looked back, and saw Wan Yan Kang smiling to himself and waving to him, his eyes a little moist.
Wan Yankang had been standing on the steps of the mountain gate of Anguo Temple, watching Bao's carriage and horses go away, then turned back to the temple and followed Juekong to the dining hall for dinner.
The ancients generally had two meals a day, but only princes and nobles like Wan Yankang were eligible to have three meals a day.
In front of the table were a bowl of porridge, two small plates of pickles, pickled radish and bamboo shoots, and a few noodles.
"Young prince, please have a meal!"
"Master please!"
Wanyan Kang picked up the bowl and returned the gift.
Zhiyuan raised his tea cup and replied: "Buddhists don't eat after noon, please help yourself, little prince."
The two of them were polite to each other, but the old master Liang Ziwen next to him couldn't hold himself back for a long time. He sat down and started to wolf down. In front of him was a large plate of noodles and pancakes, which were extremely delicious.
Wanyan Kang had something on his mind, and the food in this era was too rough, so he hurriedly ate a piece of hot pancake with pickles, drank the bowl of porridge, and put down his bowl and chopsticks.
Zhiyuan stood up and said: "The vegetarian restaurant is simple and simple, please wait too long for the young prince!"
Wanyan Kang shook his head: "Master, you're welcome. I'm just recovering from a serious illness. The weather has been hot recently, I have a poor appetite, and I can't eat much."
"Old Grandmaster, please use it slowly. I'm going back to my room to rest first."
"Send it to the young prince!"
…
Night falls.
In the back yard of Anguo Temple, where the winding path leads to a quiet place, there is a monastery with flickering candlelight.
Wan Yankang sat in front of the case, playing with a milky white stone he picked up from the mountain. This was an unexpected blessing of the trip and would be of great use in the future, but what he needed to consider now was disaster relief.
Regarding how to provide disaster relief, he slowly sorted out his thoughts, thought of the important points, and was slightly lost in thought.
As an active-duty officer in the theater logistics organization, he has participated in many large-scale military and local joint rescue and disaster relief operations. He has extensive experience in material coordination, personnel deployment, disaster relief arrangements, disinfection and epidemic prevention, etc.
The general idea is to provide relief through work.
But specific implementation requires drafting various detailed rules.
Otherwise, the operation will focus on one thing at the expense of the other, and various emergencies will lead to civil unrest if not handled well.
The door was gently pushed open, and little novice monk Juekong brought pen, ink, paper, inkstone and other items.
He placed the things neatly on the table in front of Wanyan Kang, stood on one side, and began to study ink on his own initiative.
Wanyan Kang picked up the pen, hesitated for a moment, and then put it down again.
He raised his head and asked Juekong: "Little master, I heard you tell me when I was in the back mountain that you were responsible for copying scriptures in the temple... That's it. My hand suddenly feels a little uncomfortable. Can you help me write for me?"
My hand discomfort must be an excuse, but I am not used to using a brush and writing is extremely slow. I also know that I cannot write many traditional Chinese characters, so I wanted to find a young monk to do it for me.
Juekong subconsciously glanced at Wanyan Kang's right hand and immediately agreed: "It is a great honor for me to be the ghostwriter for the young prince!"
Wanyan Kang clapped his hands: "Okay, little master, I will dictate and you will write. As long as the handwriting is clear."
Juekong took the order and sat in front of the case.
He picked up his pen and carefully wrote "Anguo Temple Work-for-Relief Implementation Plan" on the paper as Wan Yankang said.
Wanyan Kang stood up with his hands tied and saw that the young monk was actually good at writing in small regular script.
He is too self-effacing, and his handwriting is beautiful and neat, far from "ugly".
"The little master is really just like his person, handsome and cute!"
Wanyan Kang couldn't help but praise sincerely.
For Juekong, it was the first time for the young monk to get on the sedan chair to be praised like this. Moreover, he also used the words "comely and cute", so he was inevitably a little embarrassed.
He touched his bald head and suddenly remembered the weird joke Wan Yankang told him on the back mountain. He started thinking about it again, and the hand holding the pen shook slightly, almost dripping ink.
He quickly composed himself and straightened his posture.
In fact, on the way down the mountain, Juekong didn't know how many times he wanted to ask Wanyan Kang for an explanation. Since "Xuzhu" had reached the state of complete enlightenment in Buddhist practice, why did he marry a wife and then fall into the world of mortals? Isn't it not good to transcend the Western Paradise?
Can there be such a monk in the world? The key is, can such a monk achieve complete enlightenment?
There is also the saying that "Buddha sits in the heart, and wine and meat pass through the intestines." These words sound deviant, but after thinking about it carefully, it seems that there is some Buddhist truth?
But in the end I didn't dare to ask.
Of course, he couldn't tell this to other great monks, after all, it sounded too shocking.
Wanyan Kang didn't know that his whim of teasing the little monk copying scriptures actually planted a seed of rebellion in his heart.
…
Juekong wrote furiously, sweating profusely.
At first, Wanyan Kang carefully considered his words and sentences, taking into account the young monk's hand speed. Later, as his thoughts became smoother and smoother, he simply started talking, making Suekong unable to keep up.
Juekong shook his head, trying to make himself more awake. The sweat dripped from his forehead. He raised his arm and wiped it with his sleeve, and said: "Little prince, please speak more slowly. I really can't remember it..."
…”
Wan Yankang paused and said with a smile: "No hurry, no rush, little master, take a break first, let's take our time."
Willow branches on the moon.
There was silence in Anguo Temple. Liang Zireng first went to check around the temple. After all, he was not in the palace, and Chixi's soldiers were not there. The young prince's safety all fell on him. The old gentleman was still under a lot of pressure.
When I came back, I saw that the monastery where Yan Kang stayed was still brightly lit with candles and people dancing around.
He came closer and saw that the handsome young monk was sitting at his desk writing in the afternoon, soaked with sweat, while the young prince himself was walking around with his bare arms and hands on his waist, muttering excitedly.
He stood quietly under the corridor, feeling a little dazed.
Behind the scenes, all the guests and guards in the mansion said that Wan Yan Kang was arrogant and arrogant, but they were all blinded. His performance in recent days, his subtle words and subtle poking methods, how could he look like a stupid and dandy?
Furthermore, with such a distinguished status as Wan Yankang, how could he suddenly care about the lives of the victims?
In particular, most of the victims were Han people... Liang Ziweng estimated that this was the key factor why the Jin Dynasty was not very active in disaster relief. Because of this, as the young prince of the Zhao Palace, Wan Yankang's attitude towards the victims was somewhat unusual.
Already.
If you have a kind heart and want to do good deeds for a while, there seems to be no need to mobilize troops and make a big fuss.
Seeing this enthusiasm, he had to stay up all night to write the Lao Shizi disaster relief plan. Apparently he had another agenda and wanted to play a big game... and also use this to attract the attention of the Jin Emperor?
In addition, I am afraid that he also has the intention to win the hearts and minds of the people... Liang Zireng was suddenly shocked: This young prince is by no means simple, his plans are very big!
There was a loud buzzing of insects in the courtyard. Wan Yankan felt stuffy in the room, so he asked the young monk to take a rest and went out to get some fresh air.
He caught a glimpse of Liang Zireng standing outside the door and said in surprise: "Old Grandmaster is not asleep yet?"
Liang Zireng bowed slightly and said, "The young prince is not asleep yet. It is my duty to protect the young prince."
"Hard!"
Wanyan Kang handed over his hands and, regardless of the filthiness, sat down on the steps at the door and patted his side: "Old Grandmaster, sit down and have a rest?"