Hanging Temple Grand Dining Hall.
The food smelled wonderful, the dishes were delicious, and steam billowed everywhere.
The moment Liang Qu opened his mouth, the other senior brothers knew what he was planning. They all set down their chopsticks, eager to hear how he would fool—cough—persuade the Buddha Child of the Buddhist sect.
"Go exploring?"
"That's right, go exploring. We need to cultivate through worldly experience! From the masses, to the masses. As the saying goes, 'Thus does one give, without abiding in appearances; such blessings and virtues are beyond all reckoning.'" Liang Qu quoted a line from the Vajra Sutra he had just learned. "Wasn't Buddha emphasizing that his disciples should act, should give? To be a monk—especially a monk with ambition—you can't just sit around meditating and fantasizing."
"Cultivating through worldly experience is something Hanging Temple disciples have practiced since ancient times. Three years in the temple, three years beyond it. Across Jiangnan and Huainan, through rural villages, towns, famed mountains, and forested retreats—the time spent outside temples is no less than that spent within them." Huai Kong politely declined.
"Hey, taking one lap around the Central Plains is hardly enough! Three years, three years, then another three years—how many three years does a life have? You have wisdom. If you're going to cultivate in the world, go somewhere far. Do it in one step!"
"Senior Brother Liang, where could one cultivate in the world and accomplish it in one step?"
"Yuan?" Liang Qu looked up. "Finished your sudden enlightenment in the kitchen? Haven't seen you all morning."
Several meal trays were set down in succession.
Snow-white plain noodles were topped with a ring of vegetarian garnish. The mock chicken was thick and plump, with a few green peas decorating the glistening oil.
They were Feng Ying, Yuan