Chapter 142: Buddhist Disciple 2

Inside the temple, the light was dim, with only some light spilling in from the open door.

It was hard to make out the person’s face, and his simple monk’s robe gave him a vague shadow, with only his head visible.

After entering the small temple, Wu Xin took off his bamboo leaf hat, revealing a smooth, shining round head that immediately attracted attention.

Qian watched as the person crouched down, the slightly glowing round head right in front of her. She couldn’t help but reach up and touch it.

Before she could control herself, her small hand slapped the bald head in front of her. Wu Xin paused, then gently took her cold, swollen little hand and held it in his.

His palm was wide and fair, rough to the touch, yet warm.

When Black Dog carefully brought the oil lamp closer, Wu Xin said to Qian, “My Dharma name is Wu Xin.”

As the lamp drew near, the younger children could finally see his face clearly, and then they heard him ask, “What is your name?”

White Dog, who had noticed how much Qian resembled him, immediately assumed they were related. When he heard this question, he opened his mouth to answer, thinking, “How do you not know her name?” But Meihua quickly pulled him back and motioned for him to stay quiet.

“I’m Qian…” Qian said, staring at him, feeling like she had seen him somewhere before. Suddenly, something clicked, and she excitedly turned in Hua Gao’s arms, wide-eyed.

“Master! Master!” she called out.

Wu Xin hadn’t expected to be called “Master” by the child.

“Do you know what our relationship is?” Wu Xin asked with a smile.

White Dog, unable to hold back, whispered, “You look so much alike. Are you Qian’s father?”

Meihua quickly pulled him again, hissing under her breath, “Don’t say that. He’s a Venerable Master. How could a master have children?”

She remembered that the monks in the temple back in her hometown were not allowed to marry or have children.

Just as she finished speaking, Qian, as if reminded by White Dog, suddenly shouted, “Dad! You’re my dad!”

After begging for food with her friends for a few days and gradually adapting, Qian, almost forgetting her old routine of pretending to recognize someone as her father, had finally returned to the main storyline.

Meihua stared at Qian, wide-eyed, while the soft-spoken master said, “Yes, I have a father-daughter bond with you. You can indeed call me father.”

The two older children in the room, who had already understood the situation, kept their eyes wide in disbelief, while the younger three children remained silent, staring at them blankly.

Wu Xin lifted the dust-covered child into his arms.

“Are you taking Qian away?” Meihua, subconsciously, asked the question. Immediately after, she showed an expression of regret.

If they were indeed family, then it made sense for Wu Xin to take Qian. However, Qian had stayed here for a few days, and Meihua had taken the most care of her, hugging her to sleep every night. She had thought Qian would stay for good, and now that she was suddenly leaving, Meihua felt reluctant.

“I just wanted to say, it’s getting dark and cold outside. Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow?” Meihua hesitated, trying to soften the situation.

“Thank you. It is indeed better to stay here for the night,” Wu Xin said, holding Qian.

Although he wasn’t very skilled at holding a child, his movements were very natural.

His ease and the pleasant floral scent he carried caused Qian to quietly sit on his lap without moving.

The temple, usually home to just a few little beggars, now had a stranger in it, but after a moment of tension, the children relaxed as if it were just another day.

The young monk, holding the child, gave off the same peaceful and unthreatening aura as the statue of the Bodhisattva in the temple, making it easy for the children to feel at ease.

When Black Dog went to bed, he left the oil lamp burning. However, even without its faint light, Wu Xin could clearly see the child in his arms.

There was an inhuman aura in her soul, a layer of purple protective power around her; golden wish-force fell in beams upon her, wrapping her in a connection to a distant place.

Then, there was her wrist…

Wu Xin lifted Qian’s left wrist, where a red mark, like a birthmark, was visible.

It was from the place where Aberrant had tied her hair in the previous world.

And this red, blood-tinted ghostly aura.

Each of these was deeply tied to her fate.

At dawn the next day, the children woke up early.

“Follow me. I’ll find you a place,” Wu Xin said, standing at the door, holding the still-sleeping Qian.

He led the children out of Nanmei Town and to a much larger temple located outside the town. Surrounded by maple trees and bamboo groves, the temple exuded a serene, ancient charm.

An elderly monk was standing at the entrance, waiting to greet them. Wu Xin handed the children over to him.

“You will stay here and learn to grow herbs with the monk. You can live here and heal your old ailments,” Wu Xin explained.

As they walked along, the children’s apprehension slowly turned to excitement. They were so happy that they didn’t know what to say. Led by Black Dog, they began to kneel in gratitude.

Wu Xin lightly flicked his black staff, lifting them back up.

“No need to do that.”

“We must leave now. No need to see us off.”

They watched as the young monk carried Qian, who had spent a few days with them, away.

Meihua wiped her eyes and asked, “Will we see her again?”

“We will, for sure!”

Qian, resting on Wu Xin’s shoulder, glanced back at the group of people standing at the temple entrance. Her lips pouted.

At that moment, Wu Xin gently patted her back. Qian turned her head to look at his face, and recognizing the familiar bald head in her memory, she quickly hugged Wu Xin’s neck.

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to a place called Sighing Mountain.”

“Where is Sighing Mountain?”

“It’s nine hundred miles west of here. My junior brother is staying there.”

“Is your junior brother your brother?”

“You can also call him ‘uncle.’”

“We’re going to find uncle because his home is our home too?”

“We’re going to see my junior brother to let him understand your origins and your fate.”

…

After saying goodbye to a mother who could not provide any answers, Qian found herself in the arms of a father who could answer every question.

Although some answers were beyond her comprehension, Wu Xin could explain in different ways until she understood, or until she stopped asking, covering her ears, not wanting to hear any more explanations.

They walked through the bustling market, the smell of hot food wafting from the small shops lining the streets, steam rising from pots and pans.

The child’s mouth watered, and saliva started to drip from her mouth.

Soon, they were sitting at a noodle stall. Wu Xin had a bowl of clear soup noodles in front of him, while Qian had a bowl of noodles with meat sauce.

Having been hungry for the past couple of days, with nothing to eat, and her older siblings only managing to eat half-filled meals each day, Qian finished her bowl of noodles, then lifted her eyes and fixed them on a fresh batch of steamed buns just coming out of the steamer.

“I want to eat that too.”

“Can you still eat?”

“I want to.”

Wu Xin bought only one, looked at her belly, and then split the bun in half, handing one piece to Qian.

As expected, Qian grabbed the half bun and took a bite. By the time she finished the last bite, she was almost full to the point where she couldn’t eat another bite.

She patted her belly, leaned back in her chair, and sighed. The small child looked amusing with that expression.

However, she was still wearing a patched-up, worn-out cotton jacket, with a bit of dirt on her face, still looking like a little beggar.

Her hands were also dirty, and she had an extra habit of touching Wu Xin’s shiny bald head. Every time she saw him with his head exposed, she’d reach out and pat it. As a result, Wu Xin’s head still had a few blurry handprints left from the child’s dirty palms.

Wu Xin got up and spoke a few words to the stall owner. The stall owner looked at Qian, smiled, and nodded.

When father and daughter came out of the shop again, Qian was clean, dressed in the old clothes of the shopkeeper’s child.

Though the clothes were old, they were warm and comfortable, made from red floral cotton with a lucky character sewn on them.

Her shoes were also replaced with cloth shoes, tied with rope around her pants legs.

On her head, she wore a cloth tiger hat with two tiger ears sticking out. The little round child looked even cuter with the hat on.

The wind outside had grown stronger, and fine snowflakes began to fall.

Once outside, Wu Xin unfolded the cloth scarf wrapped around his shoulder and wrapped it around both himself and the child in his arms.

With the scarf wrapped around her, only the tiger hat-covered head was visible, but Wu Xin’s large bamboo hat shielded her face as well. Thus, as they walked through the wind and snow, she didn’t feel cold at all, only the warmth from the steady embrace that made her feel sleepy.

The child squinted her eyes contentedly, her feet bouncing lightly, and without hesitation, she kicked Wu Xin in the waist.

The famous Bodhi Mountain’s heartless Buddhist Disciple was skilled in everything, including taking care of children.

“Master, why do we have to keep walking?”

“Can we take a carriage?”

Sometimes the child called him “daddy,” sometimes “papa,” and sometimes “Master.” Wu Xin didn’t correct her and let her call him whatever she liked.

But when the child asked, Wu Xin boarded a donkey cart heading toward Feng County. The driver was an old man who could give them a lift.

After enjoying the ride in the donkey cart, Qian then noticed the donkey pulling the cart and looked up at Wu Xin.

“Can we have one of these?”

“We already have one. We can ride it.”

Wu Xin neither said yes nor no.

But when Qian woke up from a nap, she found Wu Xin holding a donkey by the reins. Though it was still a donkey, it looked different from the others—taller, more majestic, with shiny long fur and bright eyes, almost as if it could talk.

Qian excitedly pointed at the donkey and shouted, “Horse!”

Wu Xin corrected her, saying, “That’s a donkey.”

He lifted the child onto the donkey’s back, and the donkey slowly began walking forward without the need for Wu Xin to hold the reins.

Qian sat on the donkey’s back happily for a while, then waved to Wu Xin, who was walking beside them, to join her on the donkey.

The donkey seemed to understand, stopping and turning its head to look at Wu Xin, as if waiting for him, and even kicked its hooves in anticipation.

“I’m not sitting. You can sit,” Wu Xin declined.

After a moment, Qian asked, “Is it because it can’t carry you?”

“Yes, it would get tired.”

Just then, the donkey gave a low bray, and Qian nodded in agreement, “The donkey is saying ‘yes.’”

Donkey: “…” I’m saying “no!”

As they continued their journey on the donkey, and Qian began to drift off to sleep, Wu Xin lifted her back into his arms. In her half-conscious state, she heard her new father talking to the donkey.

“Thank you for taking us along.”

A rough voice answered, “It’s an honor to help a Buddhist Disciple. Helping a Buddhist Disciple is the old donkey’s good fortune in this lifetime.”

It felt like a dream, and when Qian woke up, she looked at the donkey and leaned closer to its ear, asking, “Can you talk?”

The donkey didn’t respond.

“Can you talk?”

The donkey flicked its ears.

“Do donkeys talk?” she asked Wu Xin.

Wu Xin replied, “Ordinary donkeys don’t talk.”

“Oh, if they don’t talk, then I must be dreaming.”

Qian’s gaze landed on Wu Xin’s bamboo hat.

She reached up and took the hat off his head, revealing his bald head.

“Papa, aren’t you cold without hair?”

“Not really.”

Hearing this, Qian took her tiger hat off her head and tried to place it on Wu Xin’s head. “You can wear my hat.”

But the hat was too small and couldn’t fit on Wu Xin’s head, so the cloth tiger comically sat on the top of his bald head.

Surprisingly, after only a few days together, the child had such a considerate heart. Wu Xin smiled gently and said, “You wear your hat. I’ll be fine with my bamboo hat.”

But then, Qian, with excitement, grabbed his bamboo hat and placed it on her own small head, holding it tightly as if she didn’t want to give it back.

Realizing what was happening, Wu Xin understood—perhaps the child just wanted to wear his bamboo hat instead.