The monk Gyatso

After days of asking around, Qu Zan learned that he needed a guarantor to enter the Corpse Camel Temple as an Attendant Monk. He spent some secret silver to smooth the way and found someone who specialized in this sort of business.

The guarantor's name was Bage.

Bage took Qu Zan to pay his respects to the temple's Zhacang Qiangzuo (branch monastery steward), bringing a khata, butter...

After presenting the khata and butter, Bage pressed his palms together and bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Qiangzuo Zola, blessings and good fortune. This boy is my nephew. His heart is set on the Buddha, and he yearns for the Dharma. He wishes to enter the temple and serve the Three Jewels..."

The Zhacang Qiangzuo was broad and burly, with a large belly thrust out before him. At this, he teased, "Bage, just how many nephews do you have? Counting this one, you've brought three here this month, haven't you?"

Bage gave an ingratiating smile. "Qiangzuo Zola, I have many relatives, and they all yearn for the Dharma."

The fat steward tipped his chin at Qu Zan, signaling him to come forward. Qu Zan approached as instructed.

The fat steward caught Qu Zan's arm and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the freshly bandaged wound on his forearm.

"How did you get this injury?"

Bage hastily smiled. "He accidentally scalded himself on the tea pot while making butter tea. It took a little skin off."

The fat steward sneered. "To my eye, that is clearly a slave brand. Which estate did you run away from, Nangsheng?"

Qu Zan remained composed and bowed as he replied, "Blessings and good fortune, Qiangzuo Zola. My family was poor to begin with, and then a snow disaster struck and killed all our cattle and sheep. With nowhere left to turn, I came to seek refuge with Uncle Bage, just to get something to eat. I am certainly no runaway slave..."

This account followed what they had rehearsed.

In truth, the branch monastery steward did not care whether he was a runaway slave. The temple stood above such matters. So what if he was a runaway? What Manor owner would dare come to the temple to demand him back?

He was merely putting on airs on purpose. The longer he held out, the more he earned.

The fat steward studied the two with a heavy gaze.

Our Buddha does not deliver broke bastards.

Qu Zan took two pieces of secret silver, each weighing three taels, from inside his robe. "A small token of respect for Your Holiness." With a turn of his hand, he slipped them into the fat steward's sleeve.

"Excellent, excellent. You truly are sincere in your devotion to the Buddha. To those who yearn for the Dharma, our Buddha is merciful. As it happens, I recall that the servants' quarters still need someone to tend the fires. You can be a fire-tending servant."

Those who came and went within the temple included Banqiong (young novices), Zhaba (Scholar Monks), Gegan (service monks), and servants.

The young novices were boy monks of eleven or twelve. Zhaba were formally ordained monks, though their status was low.

The servants were effectively temple slaves, no different from Nangsheng.

These fucking ranks and grades really were everywhere.

Gegan (service monks) ranked below Banqiong and Zhaba and were actually little different from servants.

But Gegan were formally ordained, took vows, and received Dharma names. They belonged to the clergy.

Even the lowliest monk was still a monk.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with being a servant, but becoming a Gegan would give Qu Zan a wider sea and a broader sky.

Qu Zan said, "Qiangzuo Zola, I yearn for the Dharma and am willing to offer myself to the Buddha and serve him."

The fat steward sneered and was just about to say, "Serve the Buddha? Is a stinking Nangsheng like you worthy..."

Qu Zan turned his hand again and slipped a heap of secret silver coins into the fat steward's hand.

The fat steward had intended to refuse, but those weighty secret silver coins let him see Qu Zan's devotion to the Buddha.

He invoked the Buddha's name and smiled. "This is a good thing. Since you are so sincere, take the vows and become a Gegan (service monk)."

"Someone, come register him."

At the fat steward's command, an attendant monk came in from outside to complete Qu Zan's temple admission papers.

Then a tall, thin scripture teacher led Qu Zan to a side hall and guided him in kneeling before the Buddha statue.

He taught him the Three Refuges orally (taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha) and recited the short mantra: "Om mani padme hum, lama khyen."

The scripture teacher shaved off Qu Zan's long hair, then brought him a coarse maroon monk's robe and skirt.

"I bestow upon you the Dharma name Gyatso."

Gyatso meant a vast ocean.

Gyatso was Qu Zan's basic Dharma name. If he later took a Lama, he would usually be given another ordination name. For example, if he were named Samten, he would become Samten Gyatso.

"Thukje che (thank you)!" Qu Zan bowed in thanks.

Watching his hair fall to the ground, Qu Zan felt as though he had been made anew.

Yesterday's serf, Qu Zan, had become today's Attendant Monk, Qu Zan.

The scripture teacher then announced the temple rules, which amounted to: "Observe the precepts, obey assignments, undertake menial duties, and do not leave the temple without permission..."

"Miba, Gyatso will be assigned to your quarters," the scripture teacher said.

A square-faced monk stepped out of the ranks and answered with an invocation of the Buddha's name.

The square-faced monk, Miba, led Qu Zan down the mountain. The farther they went, the more secluded it became, until they finally stopped before a cluster of low, single-story buildings at the foot of the mountain.

"Gyatso, there is something I must warn you about. Never secretly learn the warrior monks' martial arts!" Miba said solemnly.

This abrupt remark left Qu Zan full of questions.

Miba said, "Many young Attendant Monks who have just joined hear songs and tales, then sneak off to watch the Monk Soldiers train, vainly hoping to change the heavens and rewrite their fate.

"The Monk Soldiers all practice chakra cultivation to attain Buddhahood in this very body. It looks simple, but it is exceptionally dangerous. One wrong step, one moment of carelessness, and your body will be paralyzed, leaving you a cripple."

"I understand. Thank you for your guidance, martial uncle!" Gyatso said respectfully.

Miba then took Gyatso to his bed and carefully explained the Attendant Monks' daily routine.

Attendant Monks were different from Scholar Monks. Scholar Monks did not have to work, while work was the Attendant Monks' main duty.

They rose at a quarter to four each morning, then attended morning lessons. Work began at five sharp. After their evening meal at nightfall, they first attended two hours of evening lessons, then continued working, unable to rest until nine.

Though this nonstop daily grind was hard, compared with his former life as a Nangsheng, this little bit of toil as an Attendant Monk was nothing. It was hardly different from a health regimen.

Scholar Monks had it even better. They did not have to work; each day, they only needed to attend lessons, memorize and debate scriptures, and grind away at their studies.

Scholar Monks passed examinations as test-takers, taking exams level by level, qualifying as Geshe, and becoming scripture teachers. With his Much-Hearing Talent, studying scriptures and sitting exams as a test-taker suited Qu Zan best.

There was no one in the monks' quarters, so Qu Zan changed into his maroon monk's robe and skirt.

Now that he was inside the temple, Qu Zan finally relaxed a little. He collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

"Wake up, wake up!" Someone beside him was shaking him.

Qu Zan opened his eyes and saw a plump little monk, about thirteen or fourteen, with an honest-looking face, studying him.

"Aren't you having dinner? Sleep any longer and you'll miss the evening meal," the plump little monk said.

Only then did Qu Zan fully wake. Days of travel and constant vigilance, day and night, had long since exhausted him in body and mind.

That had been the soundest sleep he had enjoyed since transmigrating here.

"Thank you, senior brother." Qu Zan pressed his palms together in thanks. Although the other boy was younger, whoever had been tonsured first in the temple was the senior brother.

"My Dharma name is Gyatso. How should I address you, senior brother?"

"Doje." The plump little monk urged him along as he headed outside. "Hurry up. If we're late, we won't get any solid food."

Qu Zan followed him out.

The dining hall was simply furnished, with a flat roof of earth and timber, thick walls, and small windows. Thick, greasy black soot coated the walls.

The temple's monks sat in separate sections. The felt-covered seats at the back were reserved for the Scholar Monks.

The Attendant Monks had no cushions and could only sit on the hard ground. Each received a piece of tsampa cake and a bowl of weak butter tea.

Gyatso soon finished dinner, his stomach still only half full.

As a lowly Attendant Monk, he could barely fill his belly.

Under the temple's rules, Qu Zan did not have to attend evening lessons on his first day.

But he wanted to start learning as soon as possible, so after dinner, he went to the Sutra Lecture Hall to attend a lesson.