If nothing unexpected happened, perhaps the old monk would not be able to plant vegetables today.
The corner of Bai Yujun's mouth twitched. So there were also eminent monks in the Western Teachings who cultivated single-mindedly and attained the Dao. Sure enough, people differed from one another; there were always those who walked their own path. Look at this—could the old fellow be planning to discuss scriptures and the Dharma with that highly venomous cobra?
At last, Bai Yujun could not bear it any longer.
Right before the helpless old monk, she stepped forward, grabbed the cobra by the neck, dragged the ten-foot serpent to the edge of the vegetable plot, and tossed it into the bushes. She clapped her hands, every movement as smooth as drifting clouds and flowing water.
When she turned back, the old man and the little boy were both dumbstruck.
"You there—yes, you, Old Man Huixian. You're not bad."
Bai Yujun nodded with the air of an elder, deciding there was no need to poison the old man. People were different, after all. He did not seem like the sort who would run into the Hundred Thousand Mountains to court death.
"This humble monk is Hui Xian..."
"Close enough, all the same. By the way, why did you come to this godforsaken..." Before she could finish, a bird flew overhead, and a plump, rounded dropping fell right between Bai Yujun and Hui Xian, glaringly conspicuous.
"..."
"Why did you come to this bird-shitting hellhole? One sloping field, three or four rooms, and the most valuable thing in the temple is that doorpost. With your looks, where couldn't you go and make a living as a gilded Buddha?"
"Amitabha. Everything is but passing clouds before the eyes. Neither arrogant nor impetuous, one may live at ease