"Benefactor Liang, benefactor Liang?" The Little Monk pressed his palms together and called softly. "Where should we put the vegetarian meal?"
The twilight was orange-red, white clouds stretching and flowing across the sky for miles like a soft, downy coat. Little Monks of around ten stood in a small line, carrying large food boxes in both hands, their breaths puffing out in white mist.
Having left Abbot Dixian's quarters, Liang Qu lowered his head, lost in thought.
The Little Monk drew a breath and explained.
"Today's vegetarian meal was made by Master Shi Feng himself. Master Shi Feng is over a hundred years old and rarely cooks personally anymore; usually, his disciples handle it for him. For some reason, he suddenly took an interest today. The Abbot specially instructed us to deliver five portions—enough for fifteen people to share. It has just come out of the kitchen and is still warm."
Liang Qu stepped aside. "Take it in and put it in the main hall."
"Yes."
The Little Monks filed inside, and Liang Qu grabbed hold of a "fish tail."
"Have you eaten?"
The Little Monk shook his head. "Benefactor Liang, I have not yet begun cultivation, so this little monk does not need 'medicinal food.'"
In the past, Buddhist rules dictated that monks ate only one meal at noon and nothing after midday. Yet adult monks had to farm and support themselves. Even without martial training, their labor was no light burden, so the custom of an evening meal arose. It was called "medicinal food," most often porridge, also known as "evening congee."
Those who practiced martial arts, however, were active all day long, alternating between meditation and running incense, expending enormous physical strength. Eating four or five meals a day was nothing unusual.
But for children who had