Chapter 60: Died from working 996 hours a day in my past life, now I'm running a rural tourism
Chapter 60: Died from working 996 hours a day in my past life, now I'm running a rural tourism
The old monk took the bowl.
Holding it in both hands.
The movements were slow, as if afraid of spilling the water in the bowl.
He took a sip.
It's just a tiny bite.
Then he looked up at the stone pier at the entrance of the courtyard.
"Esteemed benefactor, may we sit down to talk?"
"sit."
Lu Chen sat down on the stone pier on the left.
The old monk sat down on the stone stool on the right.
The two people were three feet apart.
The moonlight streamed down from above, casting long, overlapping shadows of the two people.
"This courtyard is quite nice, benefactor."
The old monk held the bowl and looked around.
Wuwu Manor was quiet under the moonlight. The cabbage leaves in the vegetable garden swayed gently in the night breeze. The wildflowers in the flower field closed their petals. On the stone table were several bowls that hadn't been cleaned properly, left behind by Red Boy and Nezha fighting over meat at dinner.
The crooked signboard gleamed with a faint silver hue under the moonlight.
"Five-Five Mountain Villa," the old monk recited, then smiled. "Who named it?"
"I took it."
"A good name."
"What's so good about it?" Lu Chen leaned against the doorframe. "Everyone says this name is tacky."
"The most common things are often the most genuine." The old monk took another sip of water. "A name that is too elegant is actually fake."
Lu Chen glanced at the old monk.
There was no response.
The old monk didn't care and his gaze fell on the vegetable garden on the east side of the courtyard.
"Is that a vegetable garden?"
"Yes. Pigsy planted it."
"What did you plant?"
"Cabbage, radish, green bell pepper, potato."
"There are quite a few varieties."
"That's his thing. He's always thinking about food."
"That's a good thing." The old monk nodded. "Being able to eat is a blessing."
My gaze shifted to the flower field to the west.
"Is that a flower field?"
"Yes. It was planted by the Jade Rabbit."
"What kind of flower?"
"Wildflowers. Dig them up from the mountains. She didn't know their names either."
"No need to call it by name," the old monk smiled. "A flower is a flower when it blooms. Whether it has a name or not, it blooms."
Lu Chen held his bowl of water but didn't drink it.
He was observing the old monk.
I'm observing every single detail.
The way he speaks, the way he drinks water, the way he looks at things.
There wasn't a single flaw.
He was just an ordinary, ascetic old monk.
If Lu Chen hadn't seen that extremely faint golden layer under the moonlight, he would have believed that this was just an old man passing by asking for water.
"Who hung that plaque?" The old monk looked up and glanced at it.
Nezha.
"It's hanging crookedly."
"He did it on purpose. Saying it off-topic makes it seem improper."
The old monk laughed heartily.
The laughter wasn't loud, but it was genuine.
It wasn't a polite laugh; I genuinely found it funny.
"Children's words are the most reasonable."
"He's not a child. He's hundreds of years old."
"Even someone who's hundreds of years old is still a child," the old monk said with a smile and a shake of his head. "In my humble opinion, even someone who's thousands of years old is still a child."
Lu Chen tapped his finger lightly on the rim of the bowl.
Even those thousands of years old are children.
If an ordinary old monk said this, it would be considered taking advantage of his age.
But if it was that person who said it.
That wouldn't be considered taking advantage of one's age.
That's true.
"Your sweet potatoes are delicious," the old monk changed the subject. "I smelled them on the way here."
"I didn't bake the sweet potatoes. My two kids baked them."
"Oh? How did you bake it?"
"One was spinning on top of the fire-wheels, while the other crouched below, spewing Samadhi True Fire. They attacked from both above and below."
The old monk's eyes lit up.
"Good idea."
"It's definitely better than my old method. I used to just bury it in charcoal ash to simmer. It didn't taste good that way."
"Even something stuffy has its own flavor," the old monk said. "I used to roast things like this when I was young."
Lu Chen tapped the rim of the bowl again.
When I was young.
When were you young?
Thousands of years ago?
Tens of thousands of years ago?
Lu Chen swallowed the question.
The two talked for a long time.
They talked about nothing but trivial matters.
Is it better to use stream water or well water to water vegetable gardens?
Dried fish absorbs the best flavor after being sun-dried for a few days.
Monkey wine is too bland, what can I add to enhance the flavor?
Should the crooked signboard be straightened?
As we chatted, the moon in the sky moved from the east to the west.
The night breeze is getting cool.
The old monk finished drinking the water in his bowl.
He placed the empty bowl on his knees and gently covered the rim of the bowl with both hands.
"donor."
"Um."
"This humble monk has one more question."
"Go ahead and ask."
The old monk turned his head and looked at Lu Chen.
The moonlight shone on that wrinkled face.
The golden light in his eyes had disappeared.
There was nothing there.
It's just an old man's eyes.
But the way those eyes look at people is different.
That way of looking at someone doesn't feel like you're looking at them.
It's more like looking at a heart.
"donor."
Are you happy?
Three words.
It landed at the courtyard gate late at night.
As light as a falling leaf.
But Lu Chen's hand stopped.
The fingers that had been tapping on the rim of the bowl stopped.
Breathing stopped.
My mind went blank for a moment.
Are you happy?
This question is too simple.
It was so simple that he didn't know how to answer.
He has been in this world for almost a year.
Throughout the year, he fought countless battles, met countless powerful figures, and verbally sparred with countless Bodhisattvas and Arhats.
He destroyed the main hall of Lingshan.
He wrote words on the Buddha's seat.
He stole Li Tianwang's tower.
He cut off Guanyin's beard.
He built a mountain villa and took in a group of people rejected by the three realms.
vigorous.
It was lively and bustling.
But are you happy?
He wasn't sure.
He never stopped to ask himself that question.
Too busy.
They're busy fighting.
Busy trying to gain experience points.
Busy dealing with wave after wave of problems from the Buddhist community.
Busy being a supporter for the people in the mountain resort.
When did he stop and think about the question, "Am I happy?"
there has never been.
The old monk looked at Lu Chen.
There was no pressure.
Just watch quietly.
wait.
The moon has moved a little further west.
Lu Chen sat on the stone stool.
The bowl was placed on his lap.
long time.
a long time.
"hapiness."
Lu Chen spoke.
The sound was much softer than usual.
I wasn't happy before.
The old monk remained silent, listening quietly.
"In my past life," Lu Chen said, looking at the moon reflected in the bowl, "I would get up at 6:30 every morning. Take the subway. Go to the company, sit in my cubicle in front of the screen. Write code. Attend meetings. Get yelled at by the boss. Work overtime until 11 or 12 at night. Go home and collapse into bed. Then start all over again the next day."
"The cycle repeats itself."
"Every day is exactly the same."
"I've lived for twenty-four years, and not a single day has been spent living for myself."
"Everyone is working for someone else."
"Fight to the very end."
He died suddenly.
The old monk placed his bowl steadily on his knees.
Not a word.
"After coming into this world," Lu Chen continued, "I wasn't happy at first either."
"I was dumped on a desolate mountain. I had no cultivation, no background, and didn't even know anyone. On the third day, I was chased by a wild boar for half a mountain. I almost fell off a cliff."
"Later, we got the system, and we could fight back. We weren't afraid of being chased by wild boars anymore. But we weren't happy either."
Why? Because of one person.
"It's just me."
"In this world where gods and monsters fly everywhere, I am just a mortal, standing alone by the roadside."
"I don't know anyone."
"I'm ignoring everyone."
"After the fight, we went back to that dilapidated thatched hut, and there was nothing inside. A bowl, a pot, and a pile of charcoal ash."
"Roast a sweet potato."
"Eating alone."
"After eating, sit on the rock and look at the stars."
"I don't even have a single person to talk to."
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