Stranger still, the moment the security guard saw this group, he acted as though a formidable enemy had arrived. He even deliberately lowered the barrier at the gate, making it clear they were not welcome.
Qingfeng Park did not charge admission, and this was its only entrance and exit, so naturally the group surrounded the security booth and refused to let the matter drop.
Jingting stood to one side with his hands in his pockets and listened for a while, finally piecing together the tangled love-hate history between these people and the security guard.
It turned out that after the Beginning of Winter, winter bamboo shoots had started breaking through the soil throughout Qingfeng Park and Clear Breeze Mountain. Nearby villagers came in twos and threes, carrying their equipment to dig them up. If they only dug up a few for themselves to eat, the security guard generally turned a blind eye. But these people not only dug them up for their own meals, they also sold them to businesses outside. Worse still, they wantonly damaged the park and its bamboo groves. When they found shoots that had already grown too big and were too old to eat, they simply chopped them down and tossed them beside the paths. They left the bamboo groves dug up in a complete mess, with discarded shoot husks scattered all over the park, getting the security guard chewed out several times.
The security guard had spoken to them repeatedly, but they never changed their ways. So whenever they came, he shut the gate and refused to let them in.
But the security guard was only one man, while they had strength in numbers. Even with the authority of his position, there were still times when he got the short end of the stick or could not outargue them.
Jingting had his own principles when it came to helping people argue: he rarely helped men fight their verbal battles. So when the security guard first started arguing with the group, he only listened from the sidelines, with no intention of stepping in.
Only when someone-perhaps worked up by the argument-actually tried to climb over the barrier and accidentally bumped into Jingting's stall did he finally lose patience. Keeping his hands tucked away, he said coldly, "I suggest you keep your distance from the bamboo shoots in Qingfeng Park and on Clear Breeze Mountain."
"Why should we?" the man demanded.
Jingting said, "Why? Because those bamboo shoots bring you bad luck!"
Everyone present: "..."
Chapter 11
Villager A said, "...You Daoist really are ridiculous. How could bamboo shoots bring people bad luck?"
Jingting said, "If you hadn't come to Qingfeng Park to dig up bamboo shoots, you wouldn't have run into me. If you hadn't run into me, you wouldn't be getting this tongue-lashing. So tell me, don't the shoots bring you bad luck?"
Villager A: "..." Come to think of it, he actually had a point.
Jingting said, "Let me tell you, sometimes these shoots don't just bring bad luck. Eating them might even shorten your life. Think about it. For those two or three shoots you eat, you'll get at least three extra tongue-lashings: one from me, one from this security guard, and tonight he might wake up in the middle of the night, be too angry to get back to sleep, and have to get up to curse you out again... Work it out yourselves. Aren't you better off not eating them or digging them up?"
Unable to outargue Jingting, Villager A could only glare in fury. Villager B beside him chimed in to back him up. "What does us digging up bamboo shoots have to do with a stinking Daoist like you? Did your family plant them? Who asked you to meddle?"
Jingting said, "Hey, you've hit the nail on the head. This really does concern me. After all, since ancient times, we Daoists have been the embodiment of justice, the messengers of light. Subduing demons, vanquishing evil, and upholding justice are all our responsibilities. In the old days, we Daoists did great things like saving the country and its people. Coming here today to scold a few mere bamboo-shoot thieves like you is already giving you face."
Villager B was furious. "...Who are you calling bamboo-shoot thieves?"
Jingting said, "Whoever answers to it."
Eventually, Villager B stopped arguing and went straight up to give Jingting a hefty slap. As Jingting ran, he still did not forget to cheekily pour oil on the fire. "A Daoist moves his lips, not his mouth. A petty man moves both his lips and his mouth. If you've got the guts to steal bamboo shoots, have the guts to keep your hands to yourself!"
The villagers: "...Beat him to death! Beat him to death!"
The security guard standing nearby: "..." This was bad. Something serious was about to happen.
That day, Jingting was escorted back to Clear Breeze Temple by the police.
He had indeed kept his promise not to pick arguments with people, but with just a few words, he had gotten the villagers to come to blows with him.
Seeing things taking a bad turn, the security guard had immediately called the police.
After arriving, the officers first calmed the furious villagers down and sent them away, then escorted Jingting back to Clear Breeze Temple with expressions that defied description.
When Yun Zhaozhao saw the police at the door, she initially thought that lay devotee's husband had finally lost patience after holding out for several days and called the police. Once she learned what had happened, she found herself at a loss for what to say to Jingting.
Whenever Jingting had gotten into trouble outside in the past, he had always been scolded after returning to the temple, and sometimes his master had punished him too. He had assumed Yun Zhaozhao would certainly scold or punish him as well, but after politely seeing the officers off, she said nothing.
If Yun Zhaozhao had scolded him, he might have bristled with indignation, because he did not think he had done anything wrong. But when she really did not scold him, he kept feeling unsettled instead.
He could not help sneaking cautious glances at Yun Zhaozhao to gauge her reaction.
He had the guilty look of a little hellion who had done something outside and was waiting to see how his parent would react.
Seeing him like that, the last trace of anger in Yun Zhaozhao's heart dissipated. She only asked, "They didn't hit you, did they?"
Jingting shook his head. "No. I ran fast. They couldn't catch me."
Yun Zhaozhao said, "What about the hibiscus cakes you took out? Did you sell them all?"
Only after Yun Zhaozhao reminded him did Jingting remember that the hibiscus cakes were still at the stall by the gate. He had intended to fetch them himself, but after this incident, how could Yun Zhaozhao dare let him out again? She went to Qingfeng Park's main gate herself instead.
To her surprise, the security guard was outside watching their stall for them!
When he saw Yun Zhaozhao approach, the security guard spoke first. "Young lady, perfect timing. I was just about to look for you. I'll buy all your hibiscus cakes today, as thanks to that young Daoist for speaking up for what's right."
Yun Zhaozhao: "..."
You really had to admit it: Jingting did have a bit of windfall luck.
Though the day had brought a scare without any real danger, after this lesson, Yun Zhaozhao no longer dared let Jingting go out as he pleased. This little fellow was simply too dangerous out in the world. Keeping him at home was much more reassuring.
Still, she had to admit that "they bring you bad luck" and "eating them shortens your life" really did work wonders at times. The villagers had previously come to Qingfeng Park every few days to dig up bamboo shoots. Ever since Jingting had delivered those two classic lines, aside from a stubborn handful, the vast majority had obediently stayed home.
After all, when it came to bad luck, it was better to believe it existed than not. And coming from someone who had entered religious life, those words carried considerable credibility.
The hibiscus flowers bloomed profusely in October and November. By the end of November, they gradually faded away, just like the ginkgo cakes at Clear Breeze Temple.
Daoist Chang Kong thought that winter would soon arrive. The cakes were fine to eat while piping hot, but once they cooled, fewer and fewer people would eat them. He still needed to brew some wine. After all, cakes only grew colder as you ate them; only wine made you warmer the more you drank.
Many fruits were suitable for making wine, such as green plums, grapes, and mulberries, but none of them were in season now. Daoist Chang Kong was not only grateful for nature's gifts, he was also especially attentive to the natural changes of the seasons. He never went against the Heavenly Dao. So whether he was making food or brewing wine, he usually only used what was in season.
And at this time of year, the only seasonal fruit they could pick deep in Clear Breeze Mountain was wild hawthorn.
Daoist Chang Kong left Yun Zhaozhao in charge of watching the temple and took Jingting up the mountain to pick wild fruit.
Though Jingting was not suited to being let loose in the dazzling world outside, he was very well suited to being released back into nature.
Often, while Daoist Chang Kong was still at the foot of the mountain, Jingting had already climbed to the summit like an agile monkey.
As for climbing trees, that was even more of a specialty of his.
Besides, Jingting was a monkey... no, a child who had grown up in the mountains, so he was incredibly good at climbing them too.
Thanks to Daoist Priest Jingting, Daoist Chang Kong soon gathered enough ingredients for his hawthorn wine.
He washed the hawthorns in well water and drained them, added rock sugar in a set proportion, poured them into wine jars, added an appropriate amount of fermentation starter, and sealed the jars. The rest could be left to Heaven's will.
Unlike making cakes, brewing wine could not be completed in a short time. Besides nature's gifts, it also required time. And with many wines, the longer they aged, the purer their flavor became.
So while waiting for the hawthorn wine to ferment, Daoist Chang Kong also needed to make other foods for Clear Breeze Temple's daily sales.
Clear Breeze Temple now received even more visitors than before. Especially after Qin Yajun's article about the temple's sacrificial ceremony made the top headline of the local food section, many local residents finally learned of its existence. Though visitors could hardly be said to arrive in clouds, Yun Zhaozhao had privately tallied the figures: the temple's daily revenue now reached three to five hundred even on slow days, and could exceed a thousand on busy ones.
If all these customers merely came to Clear Breeze Temple, bought something to eat, and left, that was actually a loss for the temple too. No matter how delicious the food was, once it was eaten, it was gone. They still needed to leave some kind of impression on these visitors, so the temple could build a closer connection with them.
So while Daoist Chang Kong pondered what food to make to keep visitors coming, Yun Zhaozhao pondered what Clear Breeze Temple merchandise they could make to get those customers to bring even more customers over.
That day, Yun Zhaozhao was reclining in her lounge chair and scrolling through videos as usual when she suddenly came across a video about a stone-carving artisan.
An idea suddenly struck her, and she said to Daoist Master Qingfeng, "Daoist Master, you can carve flowers into radishes, so you should be able to carve other things too, right?"
Daoist Chang Kong made no attempt at modesty. "What's so difficult about that? Master one thing, and you understand a hundred!"
Yun Zhaozhao said, "There's bamboo everywhere in Clear Breeze Temple. Do you think we could use what we have here to make some bamboo carvings to sell? Bamboo leaves could be carved into bookmarks, bamboo tubes into brush holders, and even bamboo strips seem like we could carve decorative pictures onto them and use them to smack children..."