Volume One: The Young Monk Returns to Secular Life Chapter Fifty-Five: Fate, Subtle and Inexpressible

Chapter Fifty-Five: Fate, Wondrous Beyond Words

Yet Lu Xiaoming was not entirely foolish. Before coming up the mountain, he had already made some inquiries. This Xiao Yan, though a so-called elder at Jinshan Temple, had only one disciple. As for his title, "elder" was, to put it nicely, honorary; to speak plainly, he was nothing more than the man in charge of mucking out latrines. The monks of Jinshan Temple regarded him as little more than a joke. If someone killed a person like him, the temple would hardly lift a finger in his defense.

What’s more, the logic in this case was on Lu Xiaoming’s side. As long as Xiao Yan could not account for the origin of that sum of money, Lu Xiaoming could seize it outright. Even if Xiao Yan somehow managed to prove the funds were legitimate, it wouldn’t be hard to find another pretext to deal with him…

After running through this calculation, Lu Xiaoming couldn’t help but admire his own cleverness. This was hardly his first time committing robbery—he was even starting to enjoy the thrill of it. When the money was in hand, he’d capture Xiao Yan as well… and then, he vowed, he’d slap Xiao Yan’s face with ten greasy chicken legs until the man wept.

Excited by the thought, Lu Xiaoming quickened his pace. But even after leading his men in a blustering circle around Jinshan Temple, he still couldn’t catch a glimpse of Xiao Yan.

“Damn it! Where has he gone?” Lu Xiaoming muttered, frowning, and grabbed a monk for questioning. Monk after monk shook their heads in ignorance.

Just then, a plump monk approached with an air of calm gravity.

“Hey… I hear you’re looking for Xiao Yan? That scoundrel! I hate him, too!” the bald, pudgy monk sidled up conspiratorially. “I know where he hid the money… come with me… I’ll show you…”

“Hm? All right!” Lu Xiaoming was at first taken aback, then followed the fat monk with delight. How rare to find such a kind-hearted soul these days!

“By the way, little monk, what’s your name?”

“Me? Just call me Zhuge Yixiu…”

“Very well, Brother Zhuge. When I get the money, I’ll give you a tael or two as thanks…”

Zhuge Yixiu’s expression shifted, but out of sight of the others, a sly smile flickered across his face.

The group bustled and blustered, circling Jinshan Temple a dozen times or more…

Eventually, Lu Xiaoming began to sense something amiss. “Hey, Brother Zhuge, isn’t something off? This tree looks awfully familiar… Are we just marching in circles?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Zhuge Yixiu replied earnestly. “The truth is, Xiao Yan is a cunning villain. He anticipated you’d come looking for trouble, so he set all kinds of traps around here. You have to follow me, or you’ll get hopelessly lost…”

“Really? Oh…” Lu Xiaoming still felt uneasy, but the constable Li behind him patted his chest in relief. “Thank goodness you’re here, Brother Zhuge the Stout…”

“Heh, you’re welcome—but you can drop the ‘stout,’” Zhuge replied with a wink.

Along the way, they ran into various people, such as Lin Dong, who was busy mucking out the latrines.

Zhuge Yixiu greeted him: “Hey, keep up the good work today!”

Lin Dong nodded in response.

…

Finally, after the whole company was breathless with exhaustion, Zhuge Yixiu led them back to the temple gates.

“There, the money is in the privy!” Zhuge Yixiu pointed to the outhouse.

“Hm? So much money left in such an obvious place?” Lu Xiaoming was skeptical; he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being played. Still, with the goal in sight, he saw no need to hesitate, and ordered the door opened—

The stench that greeted them was overwhelming. Lu Xiaoming steadied himself with a look—then was dumbfounded.

The entire room glinted gold…

Damn it—inside, it was nothing but excrement.

???

Lu Xiaoming turned, bewildered, to Zhuge Yixiu. “Did I make myself unclear? I’m not after dung… I want money…”

“Haha! But haven’t you heard the saying, ‘regard money as dirt’?”

“I… Constable Li! Beat this fat man to death!”

Li was just about to advance when Zhuge Yixiu held out a hand to stop him. “Lu, you don’t understand… Have you ever heard, ‘the most dangerous place is often the safest’?”

“You mean—?” Lu Xiaoming stared in disbelief at the sea of filth.

“The money is in the dung?” This time, Constable Li had a flash of brilliance.

“Hmph, don’t fall for it…” Lu Xiaoming shook his head, keeping a wary eye on Zhuge Yixiu.

“It’s true—look…” Zhuge Yixiu plunged a hand into the muck and, with a flourish, produced a tael of silver.

Everyone stared, stupefied.

“It’s real… What a cunning plan—no one would look for money in dung…”

…

And so, a whole gang of people gleefully dove into the piles of filth, searching for silver.

…

At the foot of the distant mountain, Elder Huiren sneezed, then, with several monks, drove a cart northward. The silver on the cart clattered merrily along.

…

“Why is it that after all this time, we haven’t found any money?” someone finally asked, covered head to toe in filth.

“But… I just saw that fat man pull out silver from the muck…”

…

Suddenly, Lu Xiaoming realized he’d been tricked, but by then that “reliable” figure was nowhere to be found in the crowd.

Meanwhile, more and more monks gathered outside the privy, excitedly discussing the spectacle.

“Look at that! What are those people doing?”

“Whoa… that’s terrifying… What’s that striped thing on their heads? It looks… oddly familiar?”

“I bet it’s something tasty…”

The monks chatted more and more cheerfully, feeling that ever since Xiao Yan’s return, there had been a constant stream of strange occurrences—every day felt like a festival.

Not far from the main gates of Jinshan Temple, two old men were hurrying closer.

One of them, a brawny elder with a white beard, was Lin Dong’s father, Lin Chen. His face was dark with anger as he marched on, growing more and more furious as he thought.

He had no idea who had let slip the news that Lin Dong was working as a dung collector at Jinshan Temple, but the old rascal Lu Yiping had found out and insisted on coming up the mountain, claiming he wanted to observe his “virtuous nephew’s” diligence and give his own son a lesson in hard work.

Bah! Lin Chen knew full well what that crafty old man was up to—just looking for an excuse to ridicule Lin Dong.

“Hey, Lin Chen, let me remind you—not a finger on the boy, no matter what he’s doing. Even if he’s mucking out the latrine, you mustn’t lose your temper… We should respect the children… Even cleaning out privies is an honest trade. If that’s what he likes, let him be…” Lu Yiping teased with a wicked grin.

“Scoundrel! Stop your nonsense!” Lin Chen retorted, his eyes red with anger as he forged ahead.

“No need for anger! I tell you, mucking out latrines is a promising career… My own son’s no good, only managed to pass the scholar’s exam—just a scholar! Now he’s preparing for the provincial exam this year—that’ll cost a fortune in bribes… Your son’s dung-shoveling is better, saves you money, and earns a living too…”

…

Lin Chen felt stifled, but his son truly hadn’t amounted to much, so he could only swallow his temper. His eyesight was still sharp, though. From afar, he spotted a group gleefully digging through golden piles inside the latrine.

Hmm… in the crowd, he suddenly recognized a familiar figure…

Fate, wondrous beyond words.

Lin Chen’s eyes widened as he pointed ahead. “You old devil! Look! Isn’t that your son playing with dung?”

“What the—?” Lu Yigao had been pondering what snide remark he’d use if he saw Lin Dong mucking out the latrine. Suddenly hearing this, he was caught off guard.

But since Lin Chen was pointing, he followed the direction of his finger.

At that moment, Lu Xiaoming happened to look up.

Father and son locked eyes, both utterly bewildered.

…

The father eyed the snake-shaped thing atop his son’s head, wondering why a grown man would play with such a creature.

…

Suddenly, the son bolted.

“See! Your son’s running! And that thing on his head—could it be dung?” Lin Chen, in all his years, had never witnessed anything like this. He was just as bewildered. The tastes of the younger generation, it seemed, were impossible to fathom.

“Scoundrel! I’ll beat him within an inch of his life!” Lu Yiping finally snapped and lunged to pursue his son.

Lin Chen, however, grabbed him. “Hey, old devil… What are you doing? Weren’t you the one just saying not to beat the boy? That there’s a future in mucking out dung? The most important thing is that he likes it… so let him be…”

Lu Yiping’s face flushed red, but he forced himself to swallow his anger—after all, those were his own words.

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