Chapter 25: Aside from being rich, what else are you?

Linggu Temple stands north of the Confucius Temple and west of Xuanwu Lake, roughly twenty li from Wulong Lane. In the ancient city of Jinling, the waterways were highly developed; one could simply board a black-awning boat and drift along the river breeze to reach Purple Mountain.

Upon reaching the dock, Ye Wuji boarded a palanquin and soon arrived at Linggu Temple. From afar, the dazzling radiance of the Baogong Pagoda was visible. The pagoda, thirty zhang high, featured nine levels and eight sides, constructed entirely from Suzhou Jinshan granite, with each level adorned by eaves of green glazed tiles. A granite gallery encircled each level, and a spiral staircase within allowed visitors to ascend to the very top. The inner and outer walls were embedded with bluestone inscriptions, carved with exquisite, elegant, and solemn artistry.

At the mountain gate stood a gilded plaque reading "Linggu Zen Forest," bestowed by the Emperor Taizu of the Great Qian dynasty during his southern tour, flanked by a couplet: "Heavenly fragrance drifts through the vast halls; mountain mist lingers in the empty expanse."

"Purple brushes hold pointed flames, red rouge stains the lotus petals; how many sorrows of home and affection are known, enough to make the mountain monk regret taking his vows..."

Ye Wuji stood before the gate, fanning himself with a paper fan as he recited the verse. He looked toward Li Weishan and said, "Weishan, remember this well, my boy: there is no true virtue to be found in this temple, merely the pretense of virtue deceiving the world."

"Yes, Uncle, I shall keep your instruction in mind."

*Gurgle!*

Ye Wuji’s stomach growled. "The monks may not be righteous men, but their vegetarian offerings are quite decent."

"Uncle, if we don't make a donation, will they let us eat?"

"Who said we aren't donating?" Ye Wuji replied with calm composure. "Is everything I asked you to prepare ready?"

Li Weishan produced a large red envelope from his robe. "It is ready, Uncle. I have written your name and a dedication on the envelope as well."

"Let's go!"

After settling the porters and giving them leave to wander, Ye Wuji led Li Weishan through the gate. With an invitation in hand, they were not hindered by the young novice monk. Inside the temple, a long table and a donation box were set up at the entrance of the main hall. Two guest-attendant monks were present—one guarding the box, the other directing guests to sign the guest register.

In front of the Baogong Pagoda lay a small plaza with beautiful scenery. As a light breeze blew, the golden bells hanging from the pagoda emitted a melodious, lingering chime. On the plaza, over a hundred tables and cushions had been arranged.

The local gentry, minor officials, wealthy merchants, and moderately famous scholars of Jinling City were all gathered together. They had come for the sake of the temple’s abbot, Monk Yangong. Before taking his vows, Yangong had been a renowned scholar in Jiangnan. Hailed as a prodigy at birth, he had grown up to compose poetry and prose that surpassed all others in the region. Yet, for reasons unknown, he had eventually renounced the world. Due to his influence, the elites of Jinling flocked to his side once he announced the fundraising event.

Ye Wuji spotted Monk Yangong at a glance. He possessed a handsome face, a refined and carefree demeanor, and deep, piercing eyes that seemed to look right through the world. Seated at the head of the gathering, he laughed heartily and said, "Welcome, everyone, to this literary gathering. Today’s theme is 'Discussing Heroes Over Boiled Wine.'"

The crowd erupted in cheers. Ye Wuji took Li Weishan to a corner seat. While bookboys were typically not permitted to be seated, Ye Wuji cared little for such rules; he insisted that if one came to a banquet, one deserved to be fed.

Plates of vegetarian dishes were laid out, their fragrance mouth-watering. There was even temple-brewed vegetarian wine. As the others began to flatter one another, trading poems and verses, Ye Wuji remained indifferent. The sages said one should live according to one's nature. Since he was hungry, the first order of business was to clear the table and eat! Everything else could wait until he was full.

In the front row sat Shen Wanshan. He glanced back instinctively, and upon seeing Ye Wuji and his little bookboy burying their faces in their food, his expression turned to one of shock.

"Uncle, what is the difference between a poetry gathering and a literary gathering?" Li Weishan asked while eating.

"A literary gathering is lower in status; even merchants can attend. But a poetry gathering is different—only refined scholars are allowed. Merchants and tycoons aren't permitted entry unless they sponsor a certain amount of silver," Ye Wuji replied, raising his wine flagon and taking a deep gulp. "Eat first. We’ll talk when we’re full."

The others had arrived at the temple early. By midday, who wasn't starving? Though the vegetarian food was free, everyone present valued their reputation and status, so no one dared to be the first to pick up their chopsticks.

"Where did this pair of gluttons come from?" A wealthy merchant in purple silk at the next table grabbed Li Weishan by the collar. "This is a place of Buddhist purity! Is this a place for you to gorge yourselves?"

The surrounding crowd, who had been hungry enough to chew on their own ribs, saw this and began to gloat. Since everyone had been too self-conscious to eat first, they were glad to have someone to blame. Some even began shouting for the guest-attendant monks to throw Ye Wuji and his boy out.

"Let go!" Ye Wuji slapped the merchant’s hand away. "Who do you think you are, daring to discipline my bookboy?"

"You poor scholar..."

"You are a merchant, and I am a scholar. Before the statutes of the Great Qian, I possess more status than you!" Ye Wuji looked at him with disdain. "Beyond a few houses, a few carriages, some farmland, and a bit of savings, what are you? Who are you?"

"I..." The merchant was left speechless, unable to retort. *Aside from my vast family business, I truly have nothing else... but why does it feel like something is wrong, though I can't put my finger on it?*

The crowd fell silent, looking at the poor scholar Ye Wuji in disbelief. *Sir, you are truly something else!*

"Accusing us of being imposters? Are you implying my scholarly title was bought?" Ye Wuji pressed on. "How convenient, the Prefectural Professor and the masters of the Jinling Academy are all here. Shall I ask them if there has been any malpractice in the imperial examinations?"

"I, I..." The merchant broke into a cold sweat, stammering for a long while. "I, I had no such intention."

"Then keep your mouth shut and don't disturb our meal!" Ye Wuji looked at Li Weishan. "Keep eating. We'll talk when we're full."

Ignoring the astonished gazes of everyone present, Ye Wuji shook his sleeves and returned to his food. Seeing this, Li Weishan followed suit without hesitation. The attendees were dumbfounded; they had never seen anything like this before.

Every eye turned toward Monk Yangong. A flash of malice flickered in the abbot's eyes. He had just been in the middle of reciting a poem, yet to receive the praise and adoration he craved, only to be interrupted by Ye Wuji. How could he swallow such an insult?

Nevertheless, he maintained his composure and said dismissively, "This humble monk believes this patron is right. One should be true to one's nature. Since it is time to dine, everyone should pick up their chopsticks. Let us eat our fill before we delve into literature and Zen."

With the abbot having spoken, the crowd was relieved; they were starving, after all. The atmosphere quieted down, leaving only the sounds of people eating.

After the meal, the dishes were cleared, and seasonal fruits and snacks were served. The merchant who had been rebuked by Ye Wuji finally found his chance to strike back and regain his lost face!