CHAPTER 147: FANNING HER WITH ONE HAND, FLIPPING THROUGH SCRIPTURES WITH THE OTHER_1

From then on, at 6 o’clock each morning, Zhou Luchen was punctually awakened by the old Monk to attend the scripture reading in the front hall.

Since Shen Jing’s arrival, it seemed less gloomy.

At noon, Shen Jing would be outside with the young novice sweeping fallen leaves in the courtyard, occasionally leaning on her broom to gaze at his silhouette.

Zhou Luchen felt her happiness and ease even without looking back. He didn’t understand why she loved to smile.

After sweeping, Shen Jing sat under a tree watching the young novice. "Such a large place. Does the little master have to sweep it by himself every day?"

The young novice performed a single-palm prayer gesture. "Amitabha, thank you."

Shen Jing rested her chin on her hand. "Why don’t you let Pilgrims in? Why let him monopolize it for seven days?"

"It has been over a hundred years now; every time, it is the Zhou Family’s charitable donations that refurbish the monastery and allow Pilgrims to offer incense for free," the young novice said. "Under the eaves of the back door, one of the Glazed Tiles was personally carved with the Zhou character by the Abbot, who has since passed away."

Shen Jing tilted her head to look at the sky. "His ancestors were really wealthy."

"Benefactor Shen, one should strive to see past worldly greed, aversion, and the vanity of gold and silver," the young novice said as he picked up the basket of fallen leaves.

Shen Jing remained silent. When could she reach that state? Would she ever be able to? I’m sorry, I really can’t let it go.

Shen Jing stood up, entered the grand hall, and slowly sat cross-legged beside Zhou Luchen.

Zhou Luchen, who had been resting, unexpectedly opened his eyes and gazed at her.

Shen Jing extended her reddened, swollen hands. "I was just sweeping the courtyard."

Zhou Luchen examined her palms, seeing the red marks from gripping the broom, and chided her briefly.

The Abbot’s chanting truly was a good remedy for insomnia; within twenty minutes, Shen Jing began to doze off, her head nodding lower and lower.

Upon hearing the wooden fish, she instantly sat upright, devoutly pressing her palms together in prayer.

Zhou Luchen brought a pillow and placed it on the low table so she could rest her head on it to sleep.

Once she lay down, she slept soundly.

Zhou Luchen picked up the "Forty-Two Chapter Sutra" and flipped through the pages.

The afternoon air was dry and warm. Shen Jing was wrapped up thickly; her hair, damp with sweat, stuck to her cheeks. Feeling overheated, she uncomfortably scrunched up her eyebrows.

Zhou Luchen sighed softly, picked up a book, and began to fan her. Cooled and comfortable, she quieted down, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned as she slept.

The breeze was cool. At that moment, Shen Jing was conscious. Even knowing Zhou Luchen’s indulgence was merely an occasional whim during his leisure, she accepted it.

The old Monk glanced over, then quickly looked away, continuing to strike the wooden fish and chant the scriptures:

"Amitabha. All dharmas arise from causes and conditions; because they arise from causes and conditions, there is suffering; the cessation of causes and conditions is also thus."

Zhou Luchen listened for a while without reaction, continuing to fan her gently with one hand while flipping through the book with the other.

Zhuang Ming had wanted to come himself, but since she wasn’t *his* young lady, he had to remain silent, accompanying them in listening to the Buddhist scriptures, which indeed seemed to have the effect of cleansing the sins from one’s heart.

It reminded him of a time when Second Young Master Zhou, unable to sleep late one night, had asked him while smoking in the backyard, "Did I know any tall girls before?"

Zhuang Ming had no such memory.

Zhou Luchen himself couldn’t remember such things. Yet, if you asked him for the stock codes of the companies he invested in, he could recite strings of numbers with perfect clarity.

Zhou Luchen asked in a low voice, "Does the old lady know she’s here?"

"We haven’t told her," Zhuang Ming replied.

Zhou Luchen closed the sutra, picked up Shen Jing, and carried her back to the West Courtyard until their figures disappeared beyond the door.

The Abbot paused, raising a hand to adjust his kasaya.

Zhuang Ming suddenly opened his eyes. "Second Master, he..."

What could the Abbot be angry about? He was used to it. "Some people only ensure they themselves have no regrets."

It was utterly unexpected.

After escorting the young woman, the young master actually returned to listen to the Buddhist scriptures, leisurely brewing and sipping his tea, completely at ease and composed.

The Abbot pressed his palms together before the Buddha statue. "This old monk is magnanimous."

Zhou Luchen suddenly chuckled.

***

Shen Jing was awakened by an evening thunderstorm. No wonder the day had been so stiflingly hot; the rain had arrived without warning.

The rain was torrential, pouring down as if it had no intention of stopping.

She checked the news on her phone. A broadcast stated: "Welcome to the Shanghai weather report. In the coming days, due to the influence of low-level airflow from the north, cold air carrying heavy rain will continue until November 8th. Starting from nine o’clock tonight, Shanghai will experience a drop in temperature. Citizens are advised to carry umbrellas and pay attention to traffic safety..."

She got up and went to cook dinner with the young novice in the West Courtyard.

The young novice, standing under the eaves, looked up at the sky. "The Master has a raincoat, but it’s a pity Mr. Zhou won’t be back for dinner."

"I’ll take him an umbrella." Shen Jing took two umbrellas and walked into the rain, heading towards the main hall.

DRIP, DROP, DRIP, DROP. Water dripped from the eave tiles.

The temperature was dropping.

Zhou Luchen had just stepped over the threshold.

Coming towards him from behind the dim, arched yellow wall, a beautiful woman emerged through the rain, dressed in simple, grey lay Buddhist attire. She held a clear umbrella in her delicate hands. The rain-streaked mist obscured her face, but with each step, as she looked up, her graceful and lithe figure was apparent.

Zhou Luchen glanced askance at Zhuang Ming, who had no choice but to place the black-framed umbrella he was holding in a corner.

Shen Jing, of course, noticed none of this.

"Come over here, Luchen."

"Let’s go back for the vegetarian meal."

She stood there at the foot of the steps, lifting the hem of her lay Buddhist robe, her small black leather shoes stepping into a shallow puddle.

Their eyes met.

Zhou Luchen was holding an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His demeanor suddenly shifted, a hint of a smile now in his lazy eyes.

He suddenly wondered, Will she step into another puddle in the next second?

As she ascended the steps, she beckoned. "Come down."

Zhou Luchen tossed the cigarette to Zhuang Ming and walked down the steps as she suggested.

"I’ve come to take you back for dinner." Shen Jing held the umbrella high, one hand reaching out from under it to catch the raindrops.

The winding stone path, the dappled colors of the night... such a dark, stormy night paradoxically brought a sense of peace.

They passed Fasheng Hall, located behind the main Buddha hall.

It was a small courtyard enclosed by buildings on all four sides. During her stay, she had noticed that each shrine housed different deities, and the architecture of each was distinctive.

She suddenly murmured to herself, "The drainage system of Fasheng Hall is incredible! With such heavy rain, the water dripping from the eaves is like a curtain, and it all flows directly into the pond."

Zhou Luchen glanced at her profile. "Hui-style Architecture. All waters return to the central courtyard."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

Zhou Luchen slowly explained, "From a Buddhist perspective, it signifies accepting all things."

Shen Jing seemed to understand.

Zhou Luchen took the umbrella from her hand, leaned down slightly, and said half-jokingly, "To put it more crudely, ’all waters return to the central courtyard’ means to possess it—to ensure the fertile water doesn’t flow into others’ fields."

Shen Jing’s eyes sharpened. I knew he wasn’t one to be entirely proper.

Such a good Feng Shui design, collecting all the water into a central pool to be stored, and all he could think about was possession.

But thinking about it, perhaps he wasn’t wrong. Isn’t it about using architecture to store water, to gather all things between heaven and earth?

She turned slightly and blinked. "Are you trying to possess me?"

Zhou Luchen pulled her closer, his eyes flickering.

She looked at him in silence.

A faint smile played on his lips, his expression serene and unruffled, making it impossible to discern even a hint of his true emotions.

Zhuang Ming watched the man and woman walking side by side in the rain and mist, then glanced at the discarded umbrella.

He suddenly couldn’t understand what they were really after. Was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing?

After they had vanished from sight, Zhuang Ming bent down, picked up the umbrella, tapped it twice, and handed it to the Abbot. "Please, you use it."

The Abbot, accustomed to using a traditional raincoat, merely put his palms together in thanks.

He already had his own, yet Shen Jing had still thoughtfully brought an umbrella for him. All those days spent driving her around and carrying her shopping bags hadn’t been for nothing, after all.