Chapter 64: If the Body Has a Spirit, the Heart Must Have a God

At this moment, the magistrate’s advisor began recounting the earlier events to the county magistrate and the officials gathered behind him. Yet, the reactions of those present were altogether different from before.

Why was this the case? It was because now, the officials of the county office truly revered the Quanzhen Temple as if it were sacred.

After all, the magistrate and his retinue had always held a deep respect and admiration for the temple, and just moments earlier, even the livestock around them had naturally made way, as if granting passage to the devout. Meanwhile, those without reverence in their hearts had received due punishment.

Now, upon hearing that the gods had abandoned this place because the temple had fallen into disrepair, the county magistrate felt this was no trivial matter.

“Advisor, what should we do?” the magistrate asked anxiously, looking to his advisor, who was deep in thought. Though the advisor was learned in the classics, he, too, believed in the presence of the gods above.

Were it not for their sincere reverence, how could they have safely reached the temple’s main hall?

Sometimes, one must trust in these seemingly intangible forces.

“My lord, since the young monk has made things clear, why not restore the Quanzhen Temple? Only then can we ensure the safety of these lands,” the advisor suggested, bowing respectfully to the fretful magistrate.

“But is that truly appropriate?” the magistrate hesitated. It was not that he was unwilling to renovate the temple—for its benevolence and healing of the people alone, it deserved his respect.

The crux of the problem lay in the renovation itself. Such an undertaking would require great manpower and resources, not to mention the financial burden, which was the greatest challenge of all.

This was unavoidable. The south was troubled by local unrest, and the north was plagued by barbarian incursions. The national treasury was depleted, and though Qin Suwen had not raised taxes, the people were already contributing all they could to resist foreign threats. Even the landlords had little surplus left.

This was the source of the magistrate’s concern, and the advisor, perceiving his worry, allowed a slight smile to play at his lips.

“My lord, I have a plan to minimize the expense, but I’ll need your cooperation,” the advisor said, bowing low once more.

The magistrate, already like an ant on a hot pan, immediately agreed. Cooperate? He would not mind enduring some hardship himself if it would help.

This showed that, though he lacked great ability, the magistrate at least cared for his people.

After the magistrate assented, the advisor nodded and whispered his plan into the magistrate’s ear, leaving the magistrate surprised and hesitant, his aged brows knitting together.

“Is this truly the right thing to do?” The magistrate could not help but hesitate. Though the plan would not harm the people, it did involve deceiving them, which troubled him.

“My lord, if we do not act thus, we will not regain the gods’ trust. More importantly, we cannot let the Quanzhen monks in the north feel abandoned,” the advisor reasoned, appealing to both duty and emotion.

The magistrate saw the sense in his words. After all, only Qiu Chuji remained at the temple; the others had gone north to resist the barbarians, accomplishing feats beyond the reach of ordinary men. If, upon their triumphant return, they found the temple in ruins, how could they not be disheartened?

With this in mind, the magistrate finally nodded his approval.

Relieved, the advisor wasted no time and called the villagers together.

He recounted in detail all that had transpired between this place and Longye. Hearing his words, many believed them completely.

Those who remained skeptical, remembering the bites from the ants earlier, now felt a reverent awe.

The advisor’s meaning was simple: the county office could not fully fund the temple’s restoration—for all knew the scale of the task. The assembly fell silent, awaiting the advisor’s next words, as he acknowledged the villagers’ hardships, yet emphasized the importance of rebuilding the temple for all.

Why was this? Once the Quanzhen Temple was restored and flourished again, the gods’ protection would return. With worshippers frequenting the temple, business in the villages below would thrive—an unalloyed benefit for everyone.

More importantly, the villagers had all, at one time or another, received the temple’s aid. Now was the time for them to repay that kindness, and so they nodded in agreement.

To them, this was only right. As the advisor had said, if they did not contribute when needed, how could they face the temple that had once helped them?

Even the simplest villager understood the principle of repaying a drop of kindness with a spring of gratitude.

Thus, under the advisor’s exhortations, the grand renovation began. The county magistrate and his clerks, after some discussion, all donated their monthly salaries. The magistrate and advisor even volunteered two months’ pay, understanding their clerks had families to support. To their surprise, the clerks, upon hearing the cause, did not hesitate to follow suit, each offering two months’ wages.

For, in their eyes, which of their own parents, wives, or children had not benefited from the temple’s charity? Now, for the restoration, they would do their utmost.

Many villagers, too, slaughtered their livestock and contributed the proceeds, all for the temple’s repair.