"Then I think she could definitely give this a try."
Zhuge Yun was getting a little excited.
"Anyway, bad luck might sound mysterious, but it's still mysterious."
"So we can't use methods that are too serious."
"How is going to a temple not a serious method?"
Zhao Luzheng retorted.
Superstition was a harmful remnant of the past.
But Buddhist culture was an important part of a culture where a hundred flowers bloomed.
It also embodied the accumulated wisdom of many people who had come before them.
You couldn't lump everything together.
Or dismiss it all out of hand.
Because his grandmother believed in Buddhism, Zhao Luzheng was among the young people who were relatively receptive to Buddhist culture.
Of course,
he didn't believe in Buddhism.
It was more a case of loving someone and, by extension, what they loved.
His grandmother went to temples to offer incense during holidays, and when he was little, he'd gone with her many times.
He still remembered the kind smile his grandmother gave him.
Her heartfelt wishes and blessings for him.
And the delicious treats on the way home.
Like a skewer of candied hawthorn, a roasted sweet potato, or a lotus pod.
All kinds of tasty treats.
He loved them all.
He would hold his grandmother's hand and raise the treat in his other hand to share it with her.
His grandmother would take a token bite, then smile and say it was delicious.
That always made him enjoy it even more.
"Hey."
Zhuge Yun wagged a finger.
"Don't argue with me."
"When has going to a temple ever been an option among the normal ways of solving problems?"
"But I guess I wasn't being very precise..."
After four years as classmates, Zhuge Yun naturally knew about Zhao Luzheng's grandmother.
The