Chapter 148: Heaven’s Gift

Fang Jifan finally felt the silence around his ears. He was starving, so he had to wait patiently for the tea and snacks to be served.

Just then, he heard from the other side, the woman at the tea stall chattering with a customer: “It hasn’t rained for over twenty days now. Who knows what scoundrel offended the heavens…”

Upon hearing the word ‘scoundrel,’ Fang Jifan felt a chill down his spine. It sounded like she was calling him that wasteful youth.

Then the woman added: “But the Taoists at Longquan Taoist Temple not only refuse to show mercy and reduce the rent, they even proclaimed recently that this year’s rent is the same as past years. The past years had snow disasters, but this year is even worse—first that, now drought. Now Longquan Taoist Temple won’t lower the rent. Isn’t that driving people to despair?”

A passing customer nodded repeatedly: “The Perfected Masters of Longquan Taoist Temple are truly without virtue.”

“Exactly! Thousands of villagers don’t know how many households will suffer this year.”

Fang Jifan pricked up his ears. Hearing about the thousands of villagers, his eyebrows shot up. He called to the woman: “You, come here.”

The woman hurried over. She seemed used to observing others. At just over thirty, she was somewhat charming, as if she had noticed Fang Jifan’s handsome looks long ago. She smoothed her hair near her forehead, gave Fang Jifan a coy glance, and said in a sweet voice: “What does the esteemed customer command?”

Fang Jifan immediately cast a sympathetic look at her husband, then said: “Well? How does Longquan Taoist Temple have so many estates? They’re men of cultivation. Where did all that land come from?”

Xu Jing sat nearby, his eyes lighting up as he sized up the woman. He chimed in: “My Mentor here is a great man. Give a good answer, and there’s a reward.”

Tang Yin, however, just gazed at the distant Yuquan Mountain, as if his soul was being refined.

Wang Shouren sat nearby, brooding over something, still pondering Fang Jifan’s earlier words.

Ouyang Zhi and the others were like wooden statues, sitting bolt upright. Without their Mentor’s order, they remained completely still.

The woman gave a soft giggle, swayed her slender waist with a thousand charms, batted flirtatious eyes, and said in a gentle tone: “Do you not know, young master? Longquan Taoist Temple was built when Emperor Wen moved the capital to Beijing. In the time of Emperor Wen, he bestowed thousands of acres of land. Later, various Sons of Heaven often gave gifts, big and small. Then came the time of the Late Emperor Chenghua. Even he had heard of Longquan Taoist Temple’s fame. He sent an Imperial Envoy to pay respects to the immortals in the temple and bestowed thousands more acres of good land.”

She paused, then smiled: “Besides, Longquan Taoist Temple isn’t like Baiyun Taoist Temple. Baiyun Taoist Temple only focuses on self-cultivation, the study of immortality, and alchemy. But Longquan Taoist Temple specializes in charms and talismans, blessing and exorcising, and all kinds of rituals, which they’re most skilled at. In the entire Capital Region, Zhengyi Taoism has just one Longquan Taoist Temple. Think about it, so many nobles in the capital—who doesn’t have weddings or funerals? When homes have ghosts or sickness, or someone passes away, they must invite the Perfected Masters of Longquan Taoist Temple to handle it. Just two years ago, didn’t the Newly Established Earl pass away? They invited the Perfected Masters from Longquan Taoist Temple, held grand ceremonies for forty-nine days. Although Longquan Taoist Temple didn’t take silver officially, would a respectable Earl’s house expect free work? After the funeral, someone directly offered a thousand taels of Sycee Silver and donated five hundred acres of land. That’s the way of status; every family does it. You can’t let the Perfected Masters go poor, nor offend the celestial immortals. Isn’t that so?”

Fang Jifan clicked his tongue secretly. He only knew that ancient temples had lots of farmland, but he had no idea Taoists had such impressive holdings.

Thinking it over, wasn’t it just that? The Emperor used monks and Taoists to win people’s hearts. With so many rich families in the capital needing them for weddings and funerals, how could they lack these Taoists? Serving them for over a hundred years, heaven knew how much land and gold they’d saved. Plus, they had the income from rents.

As if sensing Fang Jifan’s disbelief, the woman continued flatteringly: “Young master, you see, we’re miles from Longquan Taoist Temple here. Yet this land still belongs to them. If you ride a horse toward Longquan Taoist Temple for half an hour, you could never leave their territory. People say Longquan Taoist Temple has ten thousand acres of land. In the Capital Region, besides the imperial manors, princely estates, and official lands, temples and Taoist temples have the most land. Ordinary families might look wealthy, but expenses are high. After a few generations, a few wasteful spenders crop up, and they collapse. But the monks and Perfected Masters in temples and Taoist halls rely on alms from worshippers for daily needs. They get gifts now and then, receive huge rents, and perform countless rituals—that’s beyond mention.”

Those damned parasites, not productive at all, oppressing the people’s spirits!

Fang Jifan flew into a rage at once. Imagining those Taoists, all well-fed and shiny-faced, he gritted his teeth, and a sense of justice stirred deep within him.

The woman didn’t seem to notice Fang Jifan’s fury. She added: “Actually, the Perfected Masters in Longquan Taoist Temple are highly cultivated and keep themselves pure. But occasionally, a few Taoists, relying on their daoist certificates as imperial court-endorsed Taoists, enjoy the temple’s rich pickings. They set up multiple wives outside, amassing large private fortunes over just a few years. Truly enviable. You see, Zhengyi Taoism isn’t like Quanzhen Taoism. Quanzhen Taoism has rules, but Zhengyi Taoism doesn’t. Look at Celestial Master Zhang from Dragon Tiger Mountain—doesn’t he have wives and concubines? When he wants meat, he eats meat. When he wants wine, he drinks wine. With a daoist registration at hand, what a carefree life it is!”

Fang Jifan couldn’t hold back any longer. He slammed his desk and said angrily: “This is lawlessness! Those people have no resemblance to ascetics at all.”

“Young master…” Thinking of Xu Jing’s promise of a reward, the woman grew bolder. She kept sending flirty glances to Fang Jifan: “Young master, ah, you’re young. Do you even understand the inside workings? Zhengyi Taoism has many true immortals, but among those Taoists who come down the mountain for rituals, there are countless bad disciples. Sneaking to widows’ doors at night, rich as can be—it’s everywhere. Even the Emperor must invite them for heaven-worship ceremonies. What a foolproof business! Let me explain, if it’s a good harvest year, people have full bellies and spare goods, so they go to the temple to offer some wealth. In a bad year, like now with the drought, life is tough, people have no way out, so they pin hopes on the heavens even more. They can’t skip feeding the immortals. When local counties hold rain prayer rituals, and people hope for luck, they cough up grain and silver for those mountain Taoist grandpas.”

Fang Jifan’s face turned livid: “I never knew Longquan Taoist Temple was full of such people. It angers me to death! That bunch of scum. Xu Jing, pay the bill!”

With that, he stood up furiously, ignoring his disciples, and sprinted toward the horses tied at the nearby post. He untied the reins, nimbly mounted, and rushed impatiently to Longquan Taoist Temple.

Xu Jing had just paid. He gave the woman a suggestive smile and threw in an extra bit of silver. Seeing this, she seemed to understand, returned a coy look, and cast her glance toward her husband, who was busy making tea in the distance.

Xu Jing finally moved his eyes away from her reluctantly.

“Mentor… Mentor, where is he going?” Tang Yin mumbled beside him, stupefied again.

Wang Shouren was also stunned.

But Ouyang Zhi, Liu Wenshan, and Jiang Chen felt their hearts sink like stones. Though stiff as statues, from living with their Mentor day and night, they knew his ‘ways’ well. Mentor… had gone to Longquan Taoist Temple.

Ouyang Zhi couldn’t help rubbing his forehead, feeling his head might split. Silently, he thought: “Please let it not be as imagined. Surely not. Mentor… should have some shame…”

Xu Jing, quick-witted, heard this and understood at once. His eyes brightened, and he exclaimed: “Mentor is truly amazing! How brilliant. Quick… quick, catch up.”

The others snapped out of it and went to unfasten their donkeys and horses. The group hastily chased after him.

Fang Jifan galloped on, inside feeling a wild joy. Land… ah, land! Ten thousand acres of fine fields, all damnably in the outskirts of the capital!

Wasn’t this heaven’s gift? He was just worrying about having nowhere to plant sweet potatoes.

His heart leaped, and he almost wanted to roar aloud. He, Fang Jifan… finally had the means to fight the drought now. This… could save so many lives!

He galloped all the way to the gates of Longquan Taoist Temple. Before the Taoist greeter could react, Fang Jifan dismounted and didn’t bother tying his horse to a post. He grabbed the greeter’s collar: “I demand to see Puji Zhenren…”

Meanwhile, Puji Zhenren remained in the Three Pure Ones Pavilion. Fang Jifan had left a while ago, but his heart couldn’t settle, filled with regret.

He hadn’t been this unsettled for years. The conversation with Fang Jifan reminded him of his long-missing Master. The sorrow in his heart was beyond words.

It was a memory from decades ago, back when he was strong and in his prime. People always remember the past fondly, especially Puji Zhenren, now white-haired, frail, and near death.

He couldn’t help but find his eyes still moist. As an ascetic, he shouldn’t be so emotional, yet that day he felt particularly overwhelmed.

His thoughts drifted back to Fang Jifan. Realizing how highly his Master valued this youth, Puji Zhenren couldn’t help feeling a touch of envy.

In his youth, he’d been slow-witted. Yet, under his Master’s guidance, to others like now as a Perfected Master, overseeing Longquan Taoist Temple with a prestigious second-rank title. But Fang Jifan? Already a young man, just enlightened by the Master, able to write the “Collected Commentaries on the True Scripture of the Dao and its Virtue.” But such a golden chance didn’t mean a bit to him.

“Master, oh Master, is this fate?” Puji Zhenren shook his head with a faint sigh.