The three chief stewards unfolded the list in turn and inspected it. It was densely filled with highland barley, meat, brick tea, salt, esoteric incense, honey, silk, textiles, utensils... all manner of supplies, filling nine large carts.
The last chief steward took it, tossed it back onto the table, and said with a smile, "The carts are certainly loaded high, but none of it is worth much. Our Corpse Camel Temple has so much barley and grain that the granaries are nearly full, and so much meat that it's about to rot. Are barley and meat being included just to pad the count?"
The first chief steward smiled. "There's no need to put it that way. His Lordship the Dzongben did say earlier that ghosts and monsters have been causing serious trouble, and the harvests down below have been poor."
The last chief steward said, "I think when the temple master goes to the prefecture next year to have an audience with the Hutuktu, he'll have to explain the circumstances to His Holiness too. Duties in the Dzong aren't easy to carry out."
Hutuktu was a conferred honorific for a Living Buddha, meaning "holy one."
Caiwang held up his belly and hurriedly said, "You Lamas misunderstand. These nine carts are only this installment. There are another two behind them, carrying secret silver, gold, and such... Everything was so rushed this time that I forgot. Please forgive me..."
The three chief stewards all gave an "Oh," meaningful smiles appearing on their faces.
After the banquet ended, Tuya and Madam Yangjin followed the Dzongben back to the Lay Buddhist Courtyard.
Madam Yangjin said, "My lord, why didn't you rein in your daughter today? A young girl like her, and her mouth never stopped once the food arrived. She just kept eating. How will she ever find a husband?"
The Dzongben merely smiled faintly.
Tuya wrapped her arms around the Dzongben's arm and said affectionately, "Papa wouldn't mind. I'm not getting married, either. I'll stay with Papa for the rest of my life."
Dzongben Caiwang patted his belly and joked, "You eat so much, girl. Even with all Papa's property and wealth, sooner or later you'll eat it all away."
"No, I won't," Tuya said sweetly. "Papa, are you in a bad mood? These past two days, you haven't seemed like your old self."
Caiwang sighed and stroked his little mustache. "Buddha-lords above me, unruly subjects below me. How could Papa be in a good mood?"
Dzongben Caiwang wore rings on all ten fingers: agate, pearl, amber, coral, the whole assortment...
"Papa, don't you find it tiring, wearing so many rings?" Tuya asked.
She saw a new ring on her father's right hand, one she had never seen before.
The black stone ring was a hideous skull, engraved all around with strange writing resembling esoteric script, yet different.
"Papa, what writing is this?"
"Papa doesn't know either. A ritual master gave it to me. He said it could ward off evil, so I put it on," Caiwang said with a smile.
"It's so ugly!" Tuya wrinkled her delicate nose.
Caiwang laughed heartily. "When Papa sees rare treasures, he's just like little Tuya when she sees food.
"But you, girl-being greedy at the banquet was one thing, but why did you secretly stuff pastries into your pockets? What would people think if they saw?"
"Hehe, you saw all that at the banquet, Papa?" Tuya took the milk cakes wrapped in oiled paper out of her pocket. "I just didn't want them to go to waste! And I wanted to bring some for Zhuoma and the others..."
Zhuoma was a household-born maid who had grown up with Tuya.
Caiwang shook his head with a chuckle and stroked Tuya's head lovingly. "You, you... you never grow up."
"I'm staying with Papa my whole life. I don't want to grow up!" Tuya rested her head against Caiwang's shoulder, holding her father's hand and swinging it back and forth.
Outside the temple storehouse.
The large carts Dzongben Caiwang had brought stood outside the storehouse, and their valuables and goods were unloaded cart by cart. Five laborers and Attendant Monks bustled about carrying them...
Liquid dripped from one large wooden chest, and an Attendant Monk found it a little slippery as he carried it.
He put the chest down and checked it. It was no water at all, but blood.
The Attendant Monk searched carefully and found a chest with blood continually seeping out through its seam.
He thought meat had been packed in it.
When he opened the chest, he found no meat inside, but a chestful of brand-new copper ritual implements: copper lamps, eight water-offering cups, vajra bells and pestles, copper mirrors, Dharma Conches, and other items...
"Where is this blood seeping from?" The Attendant Monk examined the chest closely, looking for the source of the blood.
"Hurry up and move it. No slacking!" a monk urged. He entered the storehouse to inspect the other laborers' work.
The Attendant Monk turned his head and said, "I think..." He wanted to say that he thought something was wrong with this chest...
Suddenly, a force tugged at him from behind. It was a dead person's hand, carrying the stench of decay, and it dragged him into the chest with tremendous strength.
After inspecting the storehouse, the monk came out and saw the open chest on the cart, but no sign of the Attendant Monk.
"That dog! He must have run off somewhere to shirk again!" the monk cursed.
The monk shut the lid and called two laborers from inside to carry the chest in.
When they left and shut the storehouse doors, they failed to notice fresh blood seeping from the chest's seam again.
The monk's quarters.
Qu Zan read a scripture beneath the butter lamp. Beside him, a copper kettle sat on the earthen stove, bubbling and steaming...
Suddenly, he felt a cold draft along his spine and shuddered. He looked around for anywhere the wind might be getting in.
The weather is getting colder and colder! Qu Zan thought. The reward this time included quite a lot of woolen cloth. I certainly can't use it all myself. Next time I go home, I'll take some to Meiduo so they can make thick clothes.
Qu Zan breathed in the fragrance of tea in the little room and felt the rising steam warming the small, humble chamber.
"Reading at midnight, the room filled with the fragrance of tea..." Qu Zan felt deeply at ease. He poured a bowl of dark red tea from the copper kettle, lifted it to his nose, and gently sniffed.
Suddenly, the light and shadows shifted slightly, and something seemed odd about the reflection in the tea bowl. He focused his gaze and saw that something was wrong with the face reflected in the tea.
The reflected face's features were out of place, displaying a horrifying smile, its mouth crammed with sharp, uneven, deathly white fangs.
Those were not human teeth. It was plainly a hideous Vengeful Ghost, stretching its mouth into a stiff, false smile. There was not a trace of humanity or vitality in that smile, only eeriness and evil.
"A ghost!"
How could this be! Qu Zan was startled, and the tea overflowed, spilling onto the web between his thumb and forefinger.
In an instant, the butter lamplight in the monk's quarters vanished, replaced by dense darkness.
Damn it, has another supernatural incident occurred?
Qu Zan leaned forward and reached for the oil lamp. Normally, he only had to reach a foot forward to touch the lampstand, but now his hand met empty air.
The table was gone, and so was the sitting mat beneath him.
I'm not in my quarters! Qu Zan was horrified. In that one instant, I left Corpse Camel Temple?! What kind of supernatural power is this!
Corpse Camel Temple gave him a strong sense of security. After all, many High Monks who commanded supernatural powers were there.
And now, having left all alone meant facing a Vengeful Ghost all alone.
Qu Zan observed his breathing, gathering his attention beneath his nose and sensing the changes in temperature there.
This was a method of mindfulness.
Sure enough, in an instant, he felt the blood vessels at the corner of his mouth pulsing. He grew still.
His panicked, fearful heart immediately settled.
First, I need to solve the visibility problem. For now, he did not dare move recklessly.
Before you continue