Chapter 3

Buckle buckle buckle——

The people outside the door knocked three times quickly. It seemed that they had exhausted their patience and pushed the door in. It was the fat monk ah Yao saw by the stream!

He took the tray, lifted the door with his foot and closed it.

"Little girl... Little benefactor, I heard from the host. I'm sorry to see. I made porridge with pickles. You can stay here and wait for your parents." Then he put the tray on the table.

The fat monk looks much better than the middle-aged monk.

A Yao had a better impression of him. He put his hands together and sent him out. She opened the cover bowl and the hot porridge. The smell penetrated into her nose, causing her stomach to cry, but she had no impulse to move her chopsticks.

There are only two monks in such a big temple?

Along the way, there was no sound of chanting scriptures except the singing of birds in the mountains!

It's like this is not a temple at all!

The man in cassock has a straight eye and looks bandit; Although fat monks are like Amitabha Buddha, how can a monk break into a pilgrim's room and close the door when delivering food? That foot must be his habit, a small action for a long time.

The temple was quiet, but it was strange everywhere. Ah Yao didn't dare to eat what they gave.

Before long, there was a movement outside. She slipped out and followed the sound. The originally quiet and remote Renguang Temple suddenly became noisy, as if they had agreed on a time to visit God.

The fat monk stood in front of the temple door to greet the pilgrims, while the middle-aged monk in cassock sat cross legged on the futon in front of the Da Xiong Bao hall, his eyes closed slightly, and his voice seemed to be chanting the great mercy mantra.

More than ten futons were placed in the courtyard, and people sat on them one after another. In an instant, they were full. Those who came late could only stand at the back or on both sides. If they didn't pay attention, they simply sat on the ground.

Are they opening a pulpit?

A Yao didn't understand it for a moment. She looked at the people below with interest and nodded thoughtfully from time to time. She wondered. Did the farmers understand? No, why does she think the monk's words are obscure and unintelligible? Is it because people in this era generally have a high educational level?

She was so hungry that she went to the kitchen to see if there was anything left.

The temple is very small. Ah Yao easily found the back door. There are vegetable gardens on both sides of the door. The Isatis indigotica on the ridge is growing well and seems to be taken care of carefully.

There is a path extending into the bamboo forest at the back door. I don't know where it leads.

The situation of the vegetable garden somewhat dispelled ah Yao's concern. She came to the kitchen with a brisk pace. She cooked porridge on the stove and had some leftovers. On the case, she took it out of the urn and cut some pickles.

The pickle was not flattering. There were flies flying around on it. I didn't know how to pickle it. Since I smelled the pickle, my stomach didn't cry anymore, but forced her to lose her appetite.

"God, they eat this. I'd rather eat porridge alone!" A Yao pinched her nose and looked around in the kitchen. "Tut Tut, fat chicken legs, these two monks can't avoid vulgarity. No wonder they are fat." She was not half interested in the fat meat that was so greasy that it was only white, and she even hated the chicken legs put together with the fat meat.

Finally, I found several jars of pickles in the corner and found that spring is not old. Her eyes glowed: "Wow, good thing!"

Just thinking of the name makes my mouth full of saliva.

A Yao found that spring is not old. In fact, it is dried pickled radish, not potherb mustard.

There are more than ten radishes on one side, which are hidden between the green tassel and the soil, revealing the bright red peel and the small radish with white jade pulp. This is the Yanghua radish. The monks of the temple will pickle the Yanghua radish as tea.

I think spring is made of poplars and radishes.

Right now

Just as spring was not old, a bowl of porridge was wolfed down by a Yao. It was not enough. He licked the bowl clean again.

Yanghua radish pickled with salt is slightly sweet in the salt. It's crisp and tender. She can't help eating another bowl.

Meeting the needs of the mouth and stomach, I remembered that there was a bowl of porridge and a small dish of pickles waiting in the wing room.

This is embarrassing.

She advised herself: "I haven't moved, and there is a cover to cover it. I don't lose dirt. Otherwise, I'll pour the porridge back into the pot. In this way, I won't waste food."

When she returned to the wing room, the front forum was not over, the lecture was over, and it was her turn to speak freely. She heard a lot of people arguing. She wanted to break through the clouds. She could imagine that there should be three or five groups of people arguing in front, blushing, ears red and neck thick.

Pour the porridge back into the pot and stir it. The pickles were exposed to the air and chopped again. It was difficult to put them back in the urn and found a place to bury them.

Just after a Yao finished her work and rolled up her sleeves to wash the dishes, she found a small bottle containing powder lying by the hearth of the stove. She picked it up and poured it down. It was empty.

There is a trace of white powder on the edge of the table, not like salt.

“……”

When the pilgrims dispersed, some people went into the temple to ask for autographs. The middle-aged monk couldn't leave. When the fat monk was free, he went to the kitchen to warm porridge, scooped a large basin, took out the hidden chicken legs, deeply smelled them, showed an intoxicated and satisfied look, put them on a large plate, and finally cut the pickles on the table into pieces and put them on a plate, and brought them to their room together.

"I'm starving. Let's eat first, senior brother." Fat and Shang picked up a big bowl and poured it into his mouth.

The middle-aged monk opposite picked up the dishes and chopsticks, put them down again and asked, "how's the girl now?"

"Don't worry, it's very powerful. I passed by the wing room and took a look. She's sleeping soundly in the bed. It's estimated that she won't wake up tonight." The fat monk didn't think so.

The middle-aged monk then put down his heart and wolfed down. He picked up the chicken leg and bit it. The fat monk looked at his chicken leg and swallowed his saliva. He felt that he was not full, so he scooped up a bowl and swallowed it whole.

"Elder martial brother, I'll go to sleep." The fat monk kneaded his round belly, yawned, climbed up the shop and spread it in a big font, with a loud snore.

"Dead pig! It's no use except to eat and sleep! " The middle-aged monk scolded. He suddenly felt sleepy and fell asleep.

A Yao didn't know how much time her actions bought her. She fled through the back door, bypassed the secluded stone steps in the bamboo forest, and returned to the stream under the cover of vegetation.

She found a shady place to breathe and calm down. Fang felt dry and licked her lips“ Did the unknown powder attack? " Unable to rest, she dragged her sour and soft legs, made a fire to boil water, poured a belly of water, hid in the grass, watched the nearby environment, and paid attention to the state of her body.

After confirming that there was nothing wrong with her body, she continued to set out and swam down. There was less and less stream water. Most of the riverbed was exposed and there was not much water left.

The sun is waning, and there are people with smoke.

"I finally came out!" A Yao wept with joy and ran to the place where the smoke was.

In that compartment, the sleeping middle-aged monk also woke up. The back of his head hurt. He reached out and touched it, swelling a bag. The snoring of the fat monk didn't stop.

He kicked the fat monk until he woke up: "get up!"

"Elder martial brother... Eh, it's dark?" The fat monk was stunned and his eyes were blurred. It was obvious that he didn't understand.

"Waste, let's go! The rabbit bumps in and lets you fool run away! " The monk scolded, "you send a message that we have one here, and maybe we will go to them. Let them pay attention to whether there are 5 or 6-year-old girls these days."

The middle-aged monk's eyes were as fierce as a wolf dog and had no mercy.

The fat monk shivered involuntarily and nodded.