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The person outside the door knocked three times quickly, and seemed to have exhausted his patience and pushed the door in. It was the fat monk A Yao saw by the stream!

He held the tray, lifted the door with his feet, and brought it with him.

"Little girl... Little donor, I heard from the host. I'm sorry, I made porridge and served with pickles. You can stay here for your parents." As he said that, he put the tray on the table.

The fat monk's smile was much better than the middle-aged monk.

A Yao had a slightly better impression of him, so she folded her hands together and sent him out. She opened the cover bowl, and the scent of the porridge penetrated her nose and made her stomach scream, but she didn't have the urge to move.

There are only two monks in such a huge temple?

Along the way, except for the birds singing in the mountains, there was no sound of chanting scriptures!

It's like this is not a temple at all!

The man wearing a cassock looked straight and bandit-like. Although the fat monk looked like Amitabha Buddha, how could a monk trespass into the pilgrimage room? He still had to close the door when delivering food? That kick must be his habit, a long-term small move.

The temple was calm, but there was a strangeness everywhere. A Yao didn't dare to eat what they gave her.

It didn't take long for a moment to hear the noise. She slipped out and walked with the sound. The originally pure and remote Renguang Temple suddenly became crowded, as if they had agreed to come to worship the gods.

The fat monk stood in front of the temple gate to welcome the pilgrims, while the middle-aged monk in the cassock sat cross-legged in the cushion in front of the Main Hall, his eyes slightly closed, and he was whispering as if he was reciting the Great Compassion Mantra.

There were more than ten futons in the courtyard, and some people sat on it one after another. They were already full of people in a flash. Those who came late could only stand behind or on both sides, and just sit on the ground without any particularity.

Are they opening a pulpit?

A Yao didn't understand after listening for a moment. She saw the people below listening with relish and nodded thoughtfully from time to time. She wondered, farmers could understand it too? No, why did she think that the monk's words were obscure and unaware of what he said. Could it be that people in this era generally have higher education?

Unexpectedly, she was so hungry that she went to the kitchen to see if there were any left.

This temple was easily found by A Yao. There were vegetable gardens on both sides of the door. The vegetables on the ridges grew very well and seemed to be carefully cared for.

There is a path extending into the bamboo forest at the back door, and I don’t know where to lead.

The condition of the vegetable garden somewhat relieved A Yao's concerns. He quickly came to the kitchen. He cooked porridge on the stove and took it out of the jar and cut some pickles.

This pickle is not satisfactory. There are flies flying and wandering on it, and I don’t know how to pickle it. Since I smelled the pickle, my stomach never screamed again, but instead forced her to have a big appetite.

"Oh my God, they're just eating this thing. I'd rather just eat porridge!" A Yao pinched her nose and searched in the kitchen. "Tsk tsk, fat chicken legs, these two monks are not immune to the vulgarity. No wonder they have fat heads and ears." She was not interested in the fat fat that was so oily that she was left with white, and she also disliked the chicken legs that were placed with the fat.

Finally, I found several jars of pickles in the corner and found that spring was not old. Her eyes glowed: "Wow~ good stuff!"

Just thinking of this name makes people feel good.

The spring breeze that A Yao discovered was actually pickled dried radishes, not the snow.

There are about a dozen pieces on the side, hiding between the green tassels and the soil, revealing bright red peels and white jade flesh. These are the poplar radishes. The monks in the temple will pickle the poplar radishes and serve as refreshment for guests.

I think that spring is made of poplar flowers and radishes.

Now...

Just as spring never grows old, A Yao swallowed a bowl of porridge and was not satisfied enough, so she licked the bowl cleanly.

The salted poplar radish is slightly sweet when it comes to salt, and it makes her bite crispy and tender, making her unable to help but eat an extra bowl.

After meeting the needs of my mouth and stomach, I remembered that there was a bowl of porridge and a small plate of pickles waiting in the wing room.

This is embarrassing.

She advised herself: "I haven't moved it before, and I have a lid and it's not dirty. Otherwise, I'll pour the porridge back into the pot so that I won't waste food."

When she returned to the wing room, the forum in front was not over and the lecture was over. It was her turn to speak freely. She heard many people arguing, her voice rising and she wished she could break through the sky. She could imagine that there should be groups of people in front of her who were blushing and red in their ears and thick necks.

Pour the porridge back into the pot and stir. The pickles were exposed to the air and chopped again, so it was difficult to put them back into the jar, so I found a place to bury them.

Just as A Yao finished it and rolled up her sleeves to wash the dishes, she found a small bottle of medicine powder lying beside the stove. She picked it up and fell down, and it was empty inside.

There is a trace of white powder left on the table, unlike salt.

“…”

The pilgrims dispersed, and some people went to the treasure hall to ask for a visa. The middle-aged monk could not leave. When he had time, he went to the kitchen to warm up the porridge, scooped a large basin, took out the hidden chicken legs, sniffed it deeply, showed an intoxicated and satisfied look, put it on the plate, and finally cut the pickles on the table and put them into the plate, and brought them to their room together.

"I'm starving to death, let's have a meal first, senior brother." The fat monk picked up the big bowl and poured it into his mouth.

The middle-aged monk opposite picked up the bowls and chopsticks, put them down again, and asked, "How is that girl now?"

"Don't worry, the medicine is very effective. I passed by the wing room and took a look. She was sleeping soundly in the bed. I guess she wouldn't wake up tonight." The fat monk didn't care.

The middle-aged monk then gave up his heart and swallowed it voraciously. He picked up the chicken legs and bitten it. The fat monk looked at his chicken legs and swallowed it. He felt that he had not eaten enough yet, so he scooped a bowl and swallowed it whole.

"Senior brother, I'll go to sleep for a while." The fat monk rubbed his round belly and yawned, climbed up the bunk, spread it into a large font shape, and his snoring sound was shocking.

"Dead Pig! You can sleep except for eating, and it is useless!" The middle-aged monk cursed, and suddenly felt sleepy and fell asleep.

A Yao didn't know how much time she had bought for her, so she escaped from the back door, bypassed the secluded stone steps in the bamboo forest, and returned to the stream with the cover of grass and trees.

She found a shaded place to breathe and calm her breathing. She felt dry mouth and licked her lips. "Is it that unknown powder attack?" She didn't bother to rest, so she dragged her sore legs, set fire to boil water, poured water into a stomach full of water, hid in the grass and looked at the nearby environment, and also paid attention to her physical condition.

Confirm that her body was fine, she continued to set out. The more she walked down, the less water the stream became, and most of the area exposed on the riverbed, and there was not much water left.

The sun is shining across the west, and the smoke from the cooking fires is slim.

"I finally got out!" A Yao cried with joy and rushed to where the smoke in the cooking stove was.

On that side, the middle-aged monk woke up, and his head hurt. When he reached out to touch it, a bag was swollen. The fat monk's snoring never stopped.

He kicked the fat monk hard until he woke him up: "Get up!"

"Senior brother...hey, it's dark?"

"The fat monk was stunned, his eyes were blurred, and he obviously didn't understand yet.

"Baby, we're talking! The rabbit hits in and lets you, the stupid guy, run away!" The monk scolded, "You go to send a message and say that we ran away one of us, maybe we'll go to their place, so that they can pay attention to whether there are 5 or 6-year-old girls in the past few days."

The middle-aged monk's eyes were as fierce as a wolf dog, without any mercy.

The fat monk couldn't help but shivered and nodded as he did.
Chapter completed!