Chapter 3 (1/2)

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