In the Western Buddhist Realm, amid desolate mountains and wild ridges, hundreds upon hundreds of monks in blue robes marched forward with Zen staffs in hand, exterminating demons and driving away evil.
"Old sir, could you spare us some vegetarian food?"
Before a small courtyard, a traveling ascetic monk halted and looked at the old man inside, speaking up.
Inside the courtyard, the old man saw the blue-robed monk outside and opened the wooden fence. "Master, please come in."
"Many thanks, old sir."
The blue-robed monk thanked him and stepped into the courtyard.
"This old man will serve the master some food."
The old man took the monk's alms bowl and trembled as he walked toward the house.
Before long, the old man returned carrying food and handed it to the monk before him.
"Thank you."
The blue-robed monk accepted the food and began eating, his face full of exhaustion.
The old man stood nearby, watching the monk wolf down his meal with a peaceful expression and little reaction.
This was not the first time he had seen these ascetic monks. They were all good people, exterminating demons and driving away evil for the world, deeply respected by the common folk.
After finishing his vegetarian meal, the blue-robed monk did not linger. He rose and left.
The old man saw him off to the courtyard entrance, watching the monk depart.
Desolate mountains and wild ridges were often home to spirits and monsters. Whenever travelers were frightened by them, word spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred. Once these creatures' whereabouts were exposed, blue-robed monks would soon arrive to subdue these calamities plaguing the world.
The ascetic monks never accepted silver from the people. At most, they would ask for a bowl of vegetarian food. It was precisely because