Seven, laughter? Even laughter counts as a virtue!

“Lanlang, be good now, open your mouth.” Madam Zhen delicately held the medicine spoon and offered it forward.

“Auntie, I can drink it myself,” Ouyang Rong muttered reluctantly as he sipped.

Madam Zhen seemed not to hear and continued scooping the medicine, ignoring his protest.

Early this morning, Madam Zhen had come with her maid to attend to Ouyang Rong’s meals and medication. She had even invited the abbot of Donglin Temple to come and take his pulse for a checkup.

Ouyang Rong had been preparing to suggest descending from the temple today, but seeing how Madam Zhen fussed over him, it was clear she wouldn’t let him go unless he was fully restored to health.

He frowned silently.

At that moment, the charming maid named Banxi by Madam Zhen’s side invited the abbot and his disciple from the front hall inside.

“Master, it seems Lanlang has little appetite today. Please take a look—has the illness relapsed?” Madam Zhen asked with concern.

Ouyang Rong was about to speak but hesitated. Being treated like a child and fed medicine, it was no wonder his appetite was off.

“Do not worry, Bodhisattva. Your nephew looks well. Let me take his pulse again,” the abbot said calmly.

“Thank you, Master.”

Madam Zhen then turned to Ouyang Rong. “The abbot’s medical skills are renowned across several nearby counties. Even the county medical officers can’t compare. It was thanks to him that you were saved this time. You may not listen to your aunt, but surely you must heed the abbot who saved your life?”

The elderly monk stroked his beard and smiled, composed as he sat down. His white eyebrows drooped as he took the pulse of Ouyang Rong, who was reclining against the couch.

Ouyang Rong glanced over. Indeed, the abbot of Donglin Temple carried the aura of a venerable sage, as if touched by the immortal Dao.

“May I ask your name, Master?”

“I am Shan Dao,” the abbot replied.

Ouyang Rong listened intently, waiting for more, but after a long pause, the abbot said nothing further.

Confused, Ouyang Rong blinked. “Ah?”

The disciple carrying the medical box interjected, “Shan Dao is the Dharma name of the Master.”

Ouyang Rong suddenly understood, cleared his throat, and said, “So it’s Master Shan Dao. Pardon my ignorance.”

Inwardly, he thought, What kind of names do they give these Donglin monks? Couldn’t they be a bit less solemn?

Master Shan Dao smiled gently and added, “But I am indeed skilled in guiding others. If Ming Tang has any life troubles or questions about the Dharma, you may always seek me out. You are always welcome.”

“Thank you, Master,” Ouyang Rong nodded, glancing out the window. Suddenly, he remarked, “Your temple’s pagodas are quite tall.”

A chill ran through Master Shan Dao, but he concealed it, carefully observing the young county magistrate’s expression.

The old monk sighed deeply, both helpless and compassionate.

“Let Ming Tang know this: these pagodas are built by the pilgrimage devotees from the valley below, who voluntarily contribute. Building pagodas is one of the ‘Three Reliances’ of Buddhism, and donors are very sincere and enthusiastic. Our temple does not coerce anyone, nor can we refuse. Admittedly, it does consume some resources and labor. But each time a pagoda is built, the temple reports and pays taxes to the county office. And after this year’s floods, no more pagodas will be constructed. Please rest assured, Ming Tang.”

Ouyang Rong hadn’t expected his casual remark to be mistaken for a demand for alms.

He neither confirmed nor denied but continued, “Does Donglin Temple have a pagoda called the Merit Pagoda?”

Master Shan Dao’s white eyebrows knit together. After a moment’s silence, he first shook his head, then nodded.

“There was one before, but it’s gone now.”

“Why is it gone?”

“It sank twice.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“Originally, before the founding of the Great Qian dynasty—earlier than the former Great Sui dynasty, even back in the Southern Dynasties—the southern royal family funded the construction of a grand Lotus Pagoda within the temple. Beneath it was an underground chamber. But during Emperor Wen’s reign of the Great Sui, a flood caused the pagoda to collapse.

“Later, during the reign of the Great Qian Emperor Taizong, when I was the abbot, the temple rebuilt a new pagoda on the original Lotus Pagoda site, naming it the ‘Merit Pagoda’ to house Buddha’s relics. Ironically, in the very year I took up the abbacy, the Merit Pagoda was again swept away by flood.”

The white-haired old monk shook his head in regret. “Since then, the temple has not rebuilt on that site. It’s a pity about the costly underground chamber below.”

Ouyang Rong glanced sideways. “That abandoned underground chamber must be the Pure Land Chamber, right?”

Master Shan Dao nodded.

Ouyang Rong stared silently at the ancient pagoda floating amidst the clouds in his mind. What a coincidence—or was it fate?

“Is there a special reason for naming the underground chamber ‘Pure Land’?”

“Ming Tang indeed has the Buddha’s nature. The name ‘Pure Land’ is not arbitrary. First, ‘Rebirth in the Pure Land’ is one of our temple’s teachings. Second, a great monk once perfected his merits and became a Buddha in his physical form there, ascending to the Pure Land.”

“Really?” Ouyang Rong sat up straighter.

With solemnity, Master Shan Dao intoned the Buddha’s name before speaking gravely.

“Of course it’s true. That revered monk was my great-grandmaster, Master Zhong Ma. I was about your age then, Ming Tang.

“One day, the underground chamber’s door, sealed for decades by the collapsed pagoda, was reopened. I accompanied my master inside and witnessed with my own eyes my great-grandmaster seated in the chamber’s center. Though he had passed away long ago, his features and skin were still vivid, even the veins on the back of his hands clear—he had achieved physical Buddhahood! Beside him on the floor were the words ‘Return Home.’ It seemed he had departed to the Pure Land.”

“Even after all these years, I cannot forget his immortal visage. The Dharma is boundless, capable of saving all beings. Rebirth in the Pure Land brings light and freedom. This miracle is part of why our temple is the most revered in Dragon City and the Jiangzhou region. Many devotees journey from afar to offer incense here, and in recent years, monks from distant Japan have come to study Buddhism and spread the Dharma overseas.”

Behind Master Shan Dao, the disciple listened with a face full of admiration.

Even Madam Zhen and Banxi, who had withdrawn behind the curtains during the conversation, wore expressions of fascination and envy.

Ouyang Rong’s expression grew serious.

He suddenly felt that, somehow, a higher destiny was at work.

“Now it makes sense why there is a lotus throne in the underground chamber but no Buddha statue—just empty space.”

“Since Great-Grandmaster ascended, it must naturally be empty,” Master Shan Dao smiled mysteriously, then added with slight surprise, “But Ming Tang is quite familiar with that chamber.”

How could he not be? He had woken there, trod countless footsteps, and even commandeered the golden lotus lamp possibly enshrining Master Zhong Ma’s relics—a literal ‘ascension’ by physical means.

Ouyang Rong chuckled inwardly.

Dong~

Suddenly, a dull wooden fish sound echoed in his ear.

Merit increased? Could it be related to the thing he instructed the disciple to do yesterday by accident?

He was startled, looked around at everyone else in the room who showed no sign of hearing it, and quickly found an excuse of dizziness to send them out.

Ouyang Rong drew the curtain, closed his eyes, and leaned back, focusing his spirit as he flew back into the Merit Pagoda shrouded in white clouds, curious and expectant as he gazed at the blue-gold seal script above the wooden fish.

But when he read it, he nearly staggered and fell.

[Merit: One hundred]

“Damn, why is it counting down?!”

He took a deep breath to calm himself.

Sure enough, merit points could both increase and, without ringing the bell, decrease.

“Damn it. What’s the reason? The justification? The natural order? I haven’t done anything wrong. Could it be something happening far away that caused the deduction? I just smiled a moment ago… huh?”

Ouyang Rong’s words suddenly trailed off.

No way—the hellish joke cost me merit points too?

He scowled, staring at the small wooden fish, unsure whether to be angry or amused.

From now on, he would have to be a gentleman at all times out in the world, or else even a little amusement would cost him merit points.

Moreover, Ouyang Rong noticed something else and pondered.

“When merit is added, the wooden fish sound is lighter and crisper; but when merit is deducted, it sounds heavier and more muffled.

“The difference between the two sounds is like the difference between patting your girlfriend’s butt and patting your buddy’s butt… quite distinct, definitely the former sounds better…”

As Ouyang Rong savored these thoughts, suddenly a door creaked open inside the room, and someone tiptoed closer. He quickly reined in his spirit and withdrew from the Merit Pagoda.

But as he opened his eyes, what greeted him was… a well-endowed chest.

…