Qinghe Temple, Part Two

The goulan of Great Ling were not merely places for men and women to seek pleasure; more often, they hosted performances such as song recitals and zaju.

A well-run goulan could earn an enormous income from performances alone.

Zhang Rongfang had only been awake for a short while, so naturally he did not have that ability.

This was income his Previous Body had earned by writing songs.

He touched the hundred-cash banknote. Printed on it were the name of the complex issuing workshop, anti-counterfeiting marks, and the official name decreed by the Great Ling Emperor: Ling Yuan Universal Treasure Note.

After carefully putting away the banknote, Zhang Rongfang folded the letter and slipped it into the inner pocket of his clothes.

The more money he saved, the easier his days at Qinghe Temple would become.

Prices at the foot of the mountain had risen again lately. Even brown rice cost twenty cash per jin. If he took this hundred cash out solely to improve his life, it would not amount to much.

But food and lodging at Qinghe Temple were free, so perhaps he could use the hundred cash to buy meat and eggs to nourish his body and gain a few Attribute Points.

Then he could find a way to obtain the status of a Cultivation Disciple. Only then could he openly test the effects of the Attribute Enhancement Skill. As he walked forward, Zhang Rongfang suddenly heard faint voices drifting from the training ground beyond the corridor to his right.

"When did she go back? I thought only Li Yunchang had been sent back." A somewhat anxious young male voice spoke. He sounded no more than twenty.

"She was assigned to go down the mountain last night. Chen Da Shan and Zhang Shitou went with her. The mountain does not need so many Servant Disciples, so naturally they were sent back." Another Female Daoist sighed.

"If someone in the family enters the Daoist Registry, they can be exempted from quite a few official taxes, and from the Military Service Levy too. So even if it is only servant work, plenty of people want to send someone up here. As long as they send one unimportant family member over, they can enjoy quite a few benefits. Who would not want such a good thing?" the Female Daoist continued.

"Then how exactly do you stay?" the Male Daoist asked.

"Either pay money, or have someone to look after you..." The Female Daoist sighed. "If we get driven down the mountain, we definitely will not be able to return home. We are Fourth Class people, after all..."

Zhang Rongfang did not continue listening, but his heart jolted.

Great Ling divided its people into ten ranks according to occupation: officials, clerks, monks, Daoists, physicians, laborers, craftsmen, prostitutes, scholars, and beggars.

At the same time, it divided people into four classes by ethnicity: Spirit People, Hu Xi People, Bei People, and Man People.

Qinghe Temple was located in the south. Most Servant Disciples were actually Man People. Zhang Rongfang had originally counted as Bei People, but after he and his Elder Sister had drifted to Pingyu Road, they too had been classified as Man People.

This Pingyu Road covered an area comparable to a major province in his Previous Life.

Without a word, he calmly passed by those Two Daoists. They paid him no attention at all and were still trying to figure out how they could remain.

Even after passing them, Zhang Rongfang could still faintly hear their conversation behind him.

Being driven down the mountain and struck from the Daoist Registry was a very troublesome matter.

In Great Ling, one could not simply change occupations whenever one wished. One had to apply to the Government Office; otherwise, one could only be considered black labor, with pitifully low income.

Without Government Office certification, no matter how skilled one was, one could only earn very little money.

And Fourth Class Man People were barred from many occupations in Great Ling. Once driven down the mountain, unable to reduce taxes or avoid corvée labor, a single Military Service Draft during an official corvée might mean the destruction of an entire family.

Even if they could somehow endure, once all manner of tax systems came crashing down, Fourth Class Man People would instantly struggle even to feed and clothe themselves.

Yet by staying on the mountain, they received free food and lodging, and many families could live without worry over food and clothes.

So no matter how exhausting or bitter life on the mountain was, no one wanted to go down.

Countless thoughts passed through Zhang Rongfang's mind. He too was a Servant Disciple, and there were too many servant disciples at Qinghe Temple. They were beginning to clear some of them out.

This gave him a sense of crisis as well. Others could still go farm after being dismissed, but he did not know how to farm.

Income from writing songs depended entirely on luck. His Previous Body had only struck it once in over half a year and earned a hundred cash. Dreaming of living off that was simply foolish.

Besides, the songs had been written by his Previous Body. He could not write them either. Great Ling songs were not modern songs; they had many strict rules. It was not enough to sing casually in plain speech.

He suddenly thought of his Previous Body's Elder Sister, Zhang Rongyu, and the words she had once spoken.

In Great Ling, as a Fourth Class person, living with dignity was truly difficult.

After going around the Main Hall of Qinghe Temple, he found his room in the Disciple Dormitory Area behind it.

Zhang Rongfang carefully placed the hundred-cash banknote together with the rest of his savings, then kept all of it close against his body.

The room contained only a wardrobe, a bed, and a wooden stool. An oil lamp sat on the stool.

Zhang Rongfang leaned against the head of the bed and sat down, feeling somewhat lost.

Though he had been here for more than ten days, everything still felt unreal.

In his Previous Life, he had merely been an ordinary office worker, earning a few thousand yuan a month. He was unmarried and had planned to save money, take out a loan, and buy a house. Then one night, he went to sleep.

The moment his eyes closed and opened again, he had arrived in the body of Zhang Rongfang, a servant Daoist of Qinghe Temple.

Fortunately, his own name had also been Zhang Rongfang, so accepting the name had not been a problem.

But the leap from an ordinary office worker to a Daoist Temple Daoist was rather vast.

Only through careful observation and study, coupled with the integration of some memories left behind by his Previous Body, had he barely managed to settle down in Qinghe Temple without causing trouble.

Being a Daoist was not easy, especially a Great Ling Daoist in this day and age.

Leaving aside everything else, the daily duties of chanting scriptures morning and evening, as well as rituals such as saluting people, all had fixed details and rules.

There were rules for clothing, food, housing, and travel. It was exceedingly troublesome.

Though someone led the scripture recitations, unfamiliarity could still cause problems. Servant Disciples did miscellaneous chores, but not knowing how to use many tools and objects was equally troublesome.

He had only just managed to adapt to the rhythm when this expulsion of some servants from the mountain emerged today.

Zhang Rongfang's hand unconsciously rubbed the wooden beam at the bedside. The rough, icy wood calmed him somewhat.

There was never any Great Ling Dynasty in history. It seemed I had come to another world.

In the memories of his Previous Body, Great Ling was merely an ordinary ancient dynasty. There was no immortal cultivation, no magic, no demons or ghosts—just a dynastic setting similar to ancient China.

The only difference was that Great Ling's territory was unimaginably vast.

Zhang Rongfang remained lost. He did not know what he could do in this world, nor what he wanted to do.

For the past dozen days, he had not had time to consider this question. Now that he finally had some leisure, it surged up from the depths of his heart once more.

If I cannot return, then what do I want to do here? What can I do?

He raised his hands and flexed his ten fingers.

The vacancy in his eyes gradually solidified into focus.

Forget it. No matter what happens later, I first need to make my present life a little better.

Right now, I can barely protect myself. The little free food provided every day is not enough even for my body's normal needs, let alone saving Attribute Points. I still have to do a great deal of miscellaneous work every day, with only a little rest at night.

The blank expression on Zhang Rongfang's face slowly turned resolute.

First, set a small goal: leave the Servant Disciples and make sure I am fed and warm. My current state of life is far too unsafe.

But with his Attribute Special Ability, he believed he would surely carve out a path.

Coming back to himself, Zhang Rongfang rose and checked the banknote on his person before preparing to leave.

He still had to do today's miscellaneous work.

His previous savings, together with the hundred cash he had just received, amounted to two taels of silver—two thousand cash in all. It was wealth his Previous Body had saved for a very long time.

As a Daoist, even a Servant Disciple could occasionally receive a small reward from some generous Distinguished Guests.

Zhang Rongfang's Previous Body had done rather well in this regard. He had been honest and dull, and his eyes never wandered, so his earnings had been decent.

He had originally planned to wait until his free time, go down the mountain, buy some good things to nourish his body, and convert them into Attribute Points.

But after hearing the conversation between those two, he intended to use the money to give a gift to the Daoist Priest of the Official Registry.

This world's class hierarchy was extraordinarily strict. Fourth Class Man People were severely restricted and could only do hard physical labor.

Zhang Rongfang knew clearly that if he wanted a more comfortable life, he could only follow the Daoist Registry path to the bitter end.

There would be chances to earn money later, but if he missed this opportunity with the Daoist Registry, it might become very, very difficult in the future.

Leaving the Disciple Dormitory Area, he headed straight for the Laundry Room, where clothes were washed.

This month, it was his turn on the rotation.

But before reaching the Laundry Room, Zhang Rongfang made a turn and first went to the Daoist Registry Management Room.

The managing Daoist, Zhang Chunsheng, was not there. After asking about Zhang Chunsheng's schedule and learning that he would come in the evening, Zhang Rongfang felt at ease.

Zhang Chunsheng was famously greedy for money. As long as the news was confirmed to be true, he might be able to secure a spot to remain by giving a gift afterward.

Unfortunately, the little money he had only just saved was about to be gone again. Zhang Rongfang had just left the Daoist Registry Management Room and had not gone far.

Behind him, Two Daoists sweeping the ground let their wandering gazes pass over his bulging chest, and both stopped moving.

The two exchanged a glance, then quietly followed Zhang Rongfang with their brooms in hand.

They were both large and muscular. Sweeping here was merely a pretense; their true purpose was to lie in wait and see which disciples came to offer gifts.

They had both heard the news spreading through Qinghe Temple.

This was a decision passed down by the Supervisor, the highest authority aside from the Palace Master. No one could change it.

Once word spread, those with connections pulled strings, those with money prepared silver, and people like them, who did not have enough money, naturally had to think of crooked ways.

They had already scoped out which disciples in the temple had backing and which did not.

Now, upon seeing Zhang Rongfang and recognizing that he was not among the disciples they had marked as having backing, they understood.

The two followed close behind Zhang Rongfang, drawing nearer and nearer.

The three soon entered an alleyway between two great halls.

As they walked, one of them suddenly rammed into Zhang Rongfang's back from behind.

Thud.

Zhang Rongfang staggered forward from the impact.

He immediately steadied himself and turned to look behind him, only for the two Daoists to dart forward and surround him from front and back.

"You little brat, you stole my money and still dare show your face here!?" The darker-skinned tall Daoist pointed at Zhang Rongfang and shouted.

"..." Zhang Rongfang followed the man's gaze to his own chest and understood their purpose.

The two men before him were both taller and stronger than he was. In a direct confrontation, he was clearly no match for them.

This place was narrow and isolated, and he had no friends loyal enough to come help him. The chances of keeping this money were slim.

So... after a moment of silence, Zhang Rongfang abruptly raised his right hand toward his hairpin.

"What are you doing!?" A clear female voice suddenly came from behind them.

Zhang Rongfang paused mid-motion and stopped.

The two Daoists, who had been about to pounce, also stopped.

The three followed the voice and saw two Young Maidens, one tall and one short, hurrying into the alleyway.

The delicate Girl with Red Hair Rope Baozi Head was the one who had just spoken.

"Senior Sister Xiao!" Zhang Rongfang recognized her. She was Xiao Qingying, the only daughter of the Transmission Master responsible for the Servant Disciples.

"You two!" Xiao Qingying ignored Zhang Rongfang and fixed her eyes on the two tall, strong Daoists.

Before she could finish, the two men saw that things had turned unfavorable and turned to flee.

The Two Figures rushed out of the alley in a few strides and vanished in the blink of an eye.

Xiao Qingying had wanted to chase after them and teach them a lesson, but they had disappeared in an instant. She stomped her foot furiously.

"Let's go, Quan Qing!" She called to Another Girl. As they passed Zhang Rongfang, she did not even glance at him, as though he did not exist at all.

The two wore green long skirts with white short jackets draped over them. A strand of long hair swayed behind each of them as they quickly left the alley.

"Zhang Rongfang thanks Senior Sister Xiao." Zhang Rongfang did not mind her attitude. Whatever Xiao Qingying's reason had been, helping him was still helping him.

He clasped his hands and bowed deeply toward the direction in which the two had departed.