Chapter 31: Pianyu Temple
Just as the thin monk had said, there was still a considerable distance to cover from Baihe Post Station to Pianyu Temple. It took a full day and night before the four of them finally arrived at the village nestled beneath the temple around noon.
During the journey, Mu Bai asked about their names. The thin monk explained that he was the senior-most among them, with the Dharma name Kongyan; the fat monk’s Dharma name was Kongyuan; and the young monk was named Kongle, though everyone simply called him “Little One.”
The little monk could no longer walk, so he rode on his senior brother Kong Yan’s shoulders. Baking under the scorching midday sun, he was drenched in sweat and listlessly lacked any spirit.
Kong Yuan handed him a water flask for a few sips, then wiped his own brow and said, “Pianyu Temple is halfway up the mountain; there’s still some way to go. Why don’t we rest here for now and head up after sunset?”
Kong Yan turned to look at Mu Bai: “What does the young hero think?”
“Agreed.”
The four of them entered the village, finding most doors and gates shut, with only two or three farmers working in the fields.
Kong Yuan stepped forward and asked one of the white-haired elders, “Uncle, might we borrow a place to rest? We’ve been traveling through here, and the sun is too scorching.”
The old man lifted his face, squinting slightly as he studied them carefully: “You几位… are you the masters from Konggu Temple?”
They are indeed disciples of Konggu Temple, though not yet at the level worthy of being called “Great Masters.”
The little monk grinned and said, “Yes! We are all Great Masters!”
Kong Yan pinched his calf, smiling helplessly.
“Follow me,” the elder said, hunching his back as he led them into a low hut.
The house was dilapidated, its walls covered in cracks and dark stains, with strings of chili peppers and garlic hanging beside the stove. Though it didn’t look wealthy, having a front hall, two bedrooms, and a courtyard made it spacious enough.
Mu Bai sat down in the hall with the monks. Before long, the old man brought out four bowls of cold water. The bowls themselves were chipped and worn.
The young monk opened his mouth to drink, but Kong Yuan stopped him. While the old man had his back turned, Kong Yuan quietly pulled out a silver needle to test whether poison had been added to the water.
Catching sight of this, Mu Bai was reminded of someone.
I wonder what Su Mo is doing right now.
He stared blankly at the water in his bowl, then shook his head after a moment and shifted his attention back to the present.
The silver needle showed no change; Kong Yuan carefully put it away and lifted the bowl to take a sip.
Just then, the elderly man approached unsteadily, carrying a jar of white sugar, and asked if they would like to add a little.
Mu Bai’s heart stirred, and he lowered his gaze.
Although it was not he who had tested the tea for poison with silver needles, nor did Mu Bai believe that caution while traveling the jianghu was ever wrong, he nonetheless felt inexplicably as though he had desecrated the old man’s kindness, and thus unworthy of such grace.
He offered the old man a word of thanks and added a little white sugar to his bowl.
The cool water, sweet and refreshing, flowed down his throat, dispelling the stifling heat. The four of them sat in the front hall, bowls in hand, chatting idly. Before long, the hottest hour of the day passed, and a gentle breeze began to drift through the courtyard.
A faint scent of… blood?
Mu Bai frowned slightly.
He turned to look at the three people beside him, but they clearly hadn’t noticed anything.
After sniffing carefully and confirming his suspicion, Mu Bai stood up and headed toward the rear courtyard.
Before they had taken two steps, the old man appeared, carrying a cleaned chicken cut into two halves. “This is raised at home,” he said. “Usually, it’s just me, an old fellow, here alone, so I couldn’t bear to eat it myself. I’ve been saving it to treat guests…”
The scent of blood drew nearer, and the three monks instinctively stepped back. Kongyan hurriedly said, “There’s no need for such trouble, elder. We monastics do not consume meat.”
What does it matter?” the old man replied. “Even the nuns from Pianyu Temple secretly eat meat. As long as their abbess doesn’t find out, no one will say anything.
“No, no, that won’t do.”
Seeing that Kong Yan still refused, the old man shook his head and turned to Mu Bai: “If they cannot eat it, surely you, young hero, can?”
Mu Bai replied with hesitation, “That would be too much trouble for you.”
“Do you think this old man’s cooking is unclean?” The elder’s face stiffened, his eyes staring straight at him.
Mu Bai had already felt somewhat uneasy about the earlier poison-testing incident; hearing this, he quickly waved his hands and said, “How could that be? We only intend to rest a while before departing, and I’m afraid we won’t make it in time for dinner.”
The old man hunched over as he shuffled toward the stove, muttering incessantly, “In time, in time…”
Watching the old man’s gray-haired back, Mu Bai was reminded of his own master. He figured that once people reached a certain age, they were bound to develop peculiar quirks. Since there was no dissuading him, Mu Bai might as well go help peel some garlic and lend a hand.
As he tended the firewood, the old man remarked, “Young folks as sensible as you are rare these days. The last one who helped me was a little girl.”
“A little girl?”
“A young nun from Pianyu Temple, probably just over ten years old; I haven’t seen her for a while.”
Mu Bai, recalling recent events, fell silent for a moment before saying, “Perhaps the temple has been busy, leaving no time for her to visit you.”
“Hmph.” The old man shook his head. “This place is remote; aside from disciples of Pianyu Temple, few pass through. Are you also heading up the mountain?”
Mu Bai did not hide the truth: “Yes.”
The old man glanced up at him and said in a low, grave voice, “These parts have been unsettled lately.”
Was this a warning meant for him? A thought stirred in Mu Bai’s heart; his eyes curved into a smile as he replied, “Thank you, elder. I will be careful.”
In the end, the three monks could not resist the temptation of the chicken soup and broke their vegetarian vows. By the time they finished their dinner, the sun had already set.
Mu Bai borrowed a lamp from the old man and walked ahead, holding it high to light the rugged mountain path.
After about half an hour, the four of them reached the Taoist temple halfway up the mountain.
He had previously seen monks from Konggu Temple and assumed that disciples of Pianyu Temple would dress similarly to nuns; only upon meeting them did he realize that each wore their black hair flowing down to their waists, with a wooden stick inserted into their buns and ribbons hanging down on both sides, truly embodying an ethereal, immortal demeanor.
A nun, seeing them ascend the mountain, tucked her whisk into the crook of her arm and stepped forward to greet them.
Spotting three gleaming bald heads in the darkness, the nun recognized them as members of Konggu Temple and intended to lead them to meet the abbess. Yet, as she drew nearer, her gaze involuntarily settled on Mu Bai: “And who is this?”
Mu Bai said, “I am a friend of Li Tai.”
Li Tai was one of the two individuals who had previously accepted a bounty to investigate Pianyu Temple before vanishing without a trace; he had specifically inquired about their names from Li Xian.
The nun stood bewildered for a moment before recalling, “Oh, you mean that young hero who arrived over ten days ago.”
“Yes, he vanished without a trace after coming here.”
“To be honest, we don’t know his whereabouts either. Such disappearances have been happening frequently lately; three of my junior sisters in the temple remain missing to this day.”
Mu Bai nodded and said, “Since he disappeared right here, I certainly ought to come and investigate.”
The nun stole a couple of glances at him. “Then, young hero, please stay at Pianyu Temple for now. I’ll go inform my master.”
“If you need anything, just come ask me.” She raised her hand and pointed. “I live right there.”
The little monk grinned. “Sister Tingyue, I’ve never heard you speak so gently before.”
Tingyue reached out and pinched his cheek. “You’re the most talkative of all.”
The little monk dodged with a grin and asked, “Where is Sister Tinglan? I’ll go find her to play.”
Tingyue froze. After a silence lasting a full ten breaths, she finally whispered, “Tinglan has disappeared.”
“What?”
“The Abbess didn’t mention in her letter that among the three missing junior sisters, Tinglan was one of them.”
Kong Yan exclaimed in surprise, “How could this be? She is still so young.”
Mu Bai spoke up and asked, “How old is she?”
“She just turned ten at the beginning of this year,” Ting Yue said. “She is the youngest child in the temple.”
She sighed. “Perhaps we have protected her too much in ordinary times; that girl knows nothing of the treachery of human hearts. After she went down the mountain last time, she never returned.”
Mu Bai guessed this was the young girl the old man had mentioned. Stroking the lantern in his hand, he let out a soft sigh.
Upon entering, he saw Abbess Tingyu kneeling before a cushion, offering incense. Tingyue stepped forward to help her up, saying, “Master, it’s so late; are you still praying?”
Abbess Tingyu rose, holding Tingyue’s hand, and turned to see Mu Bai. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes.
Tingyue quickly explained, “This is Li Tai—a friend of the swordsman who visited our temple over ten days ago.”
Mu Bai nodded at her.
The words spoken by Abbess Tingyu were no different from those of Tingyue, and Mu Bai responded in kind before being shown to an empty room for the night.
Three monks shared one room, while Mu Bai was given a room alone.
Early the next morning, he descended the mountain by himself to return the lantern to the old man’s home.
Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, he found the door of the low house wide open, with no one inside.
Mu Bai glanced inside the house, then stepped into the rear courtyard and walked around, but saw no one.
Just as he was about to head out to the fields, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention: in an unassuming corner of the yard, perched on a wooden pole seemingly used for drying clothes, were two birds with brilliantly colored plumage, resembling parrots.
Mu Bai’s eyes lit up; he lightened his steps and approached quietly, intending to tease the little birds.
They were preening their feathers when they noticed someone approaching; tilting their heads, they opened their beaks toward Mu Bai and cried out clearly, “Help!”
“Help!”