“Zhang Yuanshan, Senior Brother Zhang?” Fu Zhenzhen’s face turned pale, her eyes shining with a terrifying brightness. She echoed his words as if she had misheard, desperately seeking a last glimmer of hope.
The Taoist priest vaguely sensed something unusual, but as a monastic, he did not immediately think of romantic entanglements: “Zhang Yuanshan is one of the seven chosen disciples of the Zhenwu Sect of this generation, although he ranks last. Nevertheless, he is highly regarded. If she were to marry, only he would satisfy the Song family’s expectations.”
He assumed they were questioning the necessity of Zhang Yuanshan as a marital prospect.
Beside him, Meng Qi wanted to stop him from answering, but it was already too late.
“Fine, very well,” Fu Zhenzhen murmured, dazed and heartbroken, as she turned and walked away from the group in a different direction outside the city.
Unconsciously, she used her lightness skill, moving swiftly like a startled swan, as if trying to leave the unbearable truth behind.
At this moment, Meng Qi could not proceed up the mountain alone. Sighing, he activated his “Chasing Shadows” technique and followed her.
The others in the group watched them in surprise, puzzled about what had happened. Some speculated that the two had quarreled, while others thought it might be related to the Zhang family’s insufficient hospitality.
Frowning, the priest muttered to himself: “Could it be that the young Zhang fellow has incurred some romantic debt?”
Fu Zhenzhen climbed over hills and crossed rivers, running aimlessly through the wilderness, completely unaware of where she was going—only instinctively trying to escape.
Meng Qi trailed behind her without trying to persuade her. In this situation, he truly did not know what to say, so he silently followed, hoping to prevent any mishap and fulfill his duty as a companion.
After running for a long time, Fu Zhenzhen finally exhausted her strength, her pace slowing down until, ahead, she spotted a quiet little hilltop with a faint outline of a hermitage.
She covered her face with both hands, letting out a sob. Meng Qi sighed again and decided to approach and offer a few words of comfort. After all, even if she had lost a lover, she still had her family and cultivation sect. She must not give up on herself.
Suddenly, a solemn drumbeat reached both of their ears.
Dong!
Following the drum, a distant and melodious bell rang out, as if echoing in every person’s heart, dispelling worries and attachments.
Fu Zhenzhen shuddered, her hands sliding down her face. She stared blankly in the direction of the bell and, with her feet moving forward, began climbing the stone steps of the hill, chasing the source of the sound.
Meng Qi shook his head and slowly followed, organizing his thoughts on how to comfort her later.
This small hill had a few temples, Buddhist sanctuaries stubbornly surviving near the Daoist mountains. The incense offerings were modest, and the monks who passed through appeared to be ordinary in martial skill.
Fu Zhenzhen continued her ascent, passing several Buddhist temples before stopping in front of a nunnery.
She turned around, her face still streaked with tears, her eyes slightly hollow as she looked at Meng Qi: “All my life, my master has urged me to become a nun, a true disciple of Yinghua Nunnery, to escape worldly temptations and devote myself to studying the ‘Sutra of Saving Lives.’ But I always dreamed of finding a good husband, sharing ink and brush, drawing eyebrows together, wandering the martial world hand in hand, just like my parents. That’s why I insisted on remaining a lay disciple.”
“But today, I finally understand what my master said was true. How many couples in this world are as loving as my parents? Mountains and vows are empty, whispers of love are empty. Words still echo in my ears, yet he has already betrothed himself to another. The world is full of suffering, all is illusion. Why not become a nun?”
Meng Qi opened his mouth, but the words he had prepared were now useless. Still, he felt slightly relieved. Becoming a nun was better than taking revenge on society. With Fu Zhenzhen’s skills in poisons and medicine, Zhang Yuanshan might have ended up in a ghost marriage.
Fu Zhenzhen was merely speaking her heart, never expecting Meng Qi to respond. She turned and walked into the nunnery, seeking out the abbess.
Meng Qi exhaled and followed her inside.
It was a small nunnery, with old furnishings. There were only about a dozen nuns, young and old, dressed simply, their expressions serene, giving the Buddha hall a quiet and peaceful atmosphere.
“Do you wish to become a nun?” The abbess did not appear joyful or excited at the prospect of a new convert. Instead, she asked solemnly.
Fu Zhenzhen, eyes lowered, knelt on the prayer mat: “Yes.”
“You have tears in your eyes and a man behind you. This is clearly a heartbreak. If you’re acting impulsively, it’s better not to become a nun,” the abbess advised.
Meng Qi twitched his lips. I’m just a kind-hearted companion! This has nothing to do with me!
Fu Zhenzhen repeated what she had told Meng Qi earlier, her eyes misty as she looked at the abbess: “Love is false. Please, Reverend, grant my wish.”
Sighing, the abbess said, “Since you are already a disciple of the Buddha’s teachings, I shall respect your wish. May you truly study the Dharma and attain great enlightenment.”
Fu Zhenzhen was originally from Yinghua Nunnery, so formalities like registration and naming could be handled later. Therefore, there were no overly complicated rituals here. Soon, she knelt before the Bodhisattva statue.
The abbess glanced at Meng Qi but did not ask him to leave. She allowed him to witness the ceremony. Holding the tonsure knife, she approached Fu Zhenzhen.
“One last time, are you truly ready to embrace the life of a nun?” Her expression turned solemn.
Fu Zhenzhen gazed at the solitary lamp ahead and nodded slightly: “Yes.”
Instinctively, Meng Qi took a step forward, his mouth opening, but he ultimately chose not to speak. He watched as the abbess placed the tonsure knife on Fu Zhenzhen’s head, strands of black hair falling one by one.
“May all troubles fall away, and may the world fade into distance,” the abbess chanted while cutting Fu Zhenzhen’s hair.
Fu Zhenzhen clenched her teeth. As her hair gradually fell, she slightly relaxed, showing a hint of relief.
As he listened to the words “May all troubles fall away, and may the world fade into distance,” Meng Qi seemed to return to the moment he first arrived in this world, thinking of his master and fellow disciples, a sudden sense of melancholy rising in his heart.
Soon, Fu Zhenzhen’s hair was completely shorn. She went to the back to change into monastic robes and a nun’s cap, then calmly approached Meng Qi.
Seeing her dressed as a nun, seeing the solitary lamp flickering in the meditation hall, Meng Qi felt a surge of emotions and softly sang:
“The clamor of the world fades into the monastic path, leaving only sorrow for mortals. Dreams grow cold, a lifetime of love debts—how many chapters remain…”
Fu Zhenzhen had originally intended to smile weakly at Meng Qi’s rustic folk song, but as she listened, she gradually became entranced, and two more tears slid down her cheeks.
The solitary lamp flickered, exuding an indescribable sense of loneliness and coldness.
Meng Qi composed himself, stopped singing, and let out a long sigh.
Fu Zhenzhen forced a smile: “Why did you suddenly start singing rustic folk tunes?”
Meng Qi looked at her and smiled: “If not this, then I’d recite Buddhist sutras for you.”
“From love arises sorrow, from love arises fear. If one is free from love, there is neither sorrow nor fear.”
His voice was calm, and the Buddhist verse echoed in the meditation hall, carrying a faint sense of the world’s illusory nature.
“From love arises sorrow, from love arises fear. If one is free from love, there is neither sorrow nor fear…” Fu Zhenzhen repeated softly, growing even more entranced.
Sigh, a foolish child, Meng Qi thought inwardly.
After a long while, Fu Zhenzhen regained her senses and deliberately changed the subject: “I thought you’d try to stop me from becoming a nun.”
After all, Meng Qi had known Zhang Yuanshan longer and had a deeper friendship with him. She had no doubt that Meng Qi would side with Zhang Yuanshan.
“If the heart is not pure, even if the hair falls and one resides in the monastic path, it’s only superficial. That’s not true renunciation. One can easily return to secular life. But if the heart is already empty and one has seen through the world, even if one enjoys music and luxury, one is still a true renunciant. External forms do not define the path. Whether to renounce or return lies solely within your heart. How could I possibly stop you?” Meng Qi replied seriously.
Fu Zhenzhen listened intently, finally offering a faint smile: “I always thought you were a rather undisciplined monk. I never expected that after leaving Shaolin, you’d actually become like an enlightened master.”
“Of course,” Meng Qi said without a hint of modesty. “Therefore, the tonsure means little. If you change your mind, you can return to secular life like I did. If you feel sorrow and despair again, you can find another nunnery and resume your monastic life. Entering and leaving is that simple. It’s just that hair grows slowly.”
Despite her heartache, Fu Zhenzhen almost laughed out loud. Just moments ago, she had praised him as a master, and now he was being irreverent again.
But that was the familiar Xiao Meng.
Meng Qi glanced at Fu Zhenzhen and suddenly sighed: “Thinking about it, becoming a nun still isn’t the best idea.”
“Are you trying to stop me now?” Fu Zhenzhen asked, half-laughing, half-crying.
Meng Qi nodded solemnly: “If you’re determined to leave worldly life, why must you necessarily become a nun? Daoist priestesses are also renunciants. They don’t shave their heads and look much better than you do now. It’s also more convenient for coming and going.”
Pfft, Fu Zhenzhen finally couldn’t help but laugh. Xiao Meng was truly witty and humorous. Even in such a serious and sorrowful moment, he could crack jokes and ease the atmosphere.
As she laughed, tears streamed down her face again.
After a while, she sighed softly: “Meng Qi, thank you for comforting me. I feel much better now.”
“What I said was sincere,” Meng Qi insisted, refusing to admit that he had been consoling Fu Zhenzhen.
At that moment, a familiar male voice came from outside the door: “Reverend, have you seen a man and a woman? The woman is about this tall…”
Has Senior Brother Zhang come chasing after us? Has the engagement banquet ended already? Meng Qi was taken aback.
Fu Zhenzhen’s face changed drastically, and she paled: “I don’t want to see him! Help me send him away.”
“I’ll talk to Senior Brother Zhang,” Meng Qi knew Fu Zhenzhen was emotionally unstable at this moment. If Zhang Yuanshan came in, it would likely turn into another tearful drama, possibly making things worse. Therefore, he planned to go out and pull Zhang Yuanshan away, giving Fu Zhenzhen some peace and also clarifying the engagement matter to see if there was any misunderstanding or room for reconciliation.
As he finished speaking, he suddenly recalled something, a slight sadness rising in his heart. He sighed: “All my life, I’ve dreamed of becoming a swordsman in flowing white robes, free and unrestrained. Who would have thought that now, now, I’ve become like a community affairs auntie!”
Specializing in resolving romantic, marital, and family problems… The tone was getting stranger and stranger…
“Community affairs auntie?” Fu Zhenzhen was puzzled.
“Forget it, you wouldn’t understand,” Meng Qi covered his face and walked out of the nunnery, heading toward Zhang Yuanshan.
“Zhen, Junior Brother Meng, where is Zhenzhen?” Zhang Yuanshan, seeing Meng Qi come out, asked excitedly.
“Let her rest for a while,” Meng Qi exhaled. “Come on, let’s go get a drink. You talk, I’ll listen.”
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