DIHBSG chapter 28

 

There were too many obscure characters in the scripture. At first glance, it looked like a heavenly book. After reading for only a short while, Song Jian gave up completely, pulled a long face, and took out the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone beside him.

Wasn’t it just using meals to threaten him into copying scriptures?

Hah, under pressure he yielded. He was just that kind of person.

Song Jian spread out the paper and picked up the brush, immediately beginning to splash ink across the page.

I’ll write.

I’ll write.

I’ll write write write write write.

Xiao Yinghuai occasionally lifted his eyes from the scripture and saw the person beside him bent over, writing with great diligence. He looked quite serious, so Xiao Yinghuai withdrew his gaze and let Song Jian continue.

He read the scripture in peace for an hour. When he looked up again, however, he discovered that the person at the low table was writing… no, drawing little figures fighting on the tabletop.

At the same time, he muttered under his breath, “Whoosh—bang—thud—”

Xiao Yinghuai gave a faint cough.

Song Jian immediately came back to his senses, straightened up with a swish, and lowered his head to continue writing.

Write write write.

Not long afterward, there was only one extra line of characters on the paper before Song Jian started propping up his brush and spacing out again.

He picked at his fingers, wondering what the vegetarian meals at Fuhui Temple tasted like. Once he finished writing, should he go ask a monk…

Xiao Yinghuai tapped his index finger on the edge of the table with a “tap.”

Song Jian’s back stiffened. He hurriedly pretended he had just been thinking, paused thoughtfully for two seconds before lowering his brush. His acting was flawless.

Xiao Yinghuai did not expose him and continued silently reading the scripture in his hands.

The meditation room was exceedingly quiet. One could hear a pin drop, while sandalwood incense drifted through the air.

By the time he finished the last page and turned his head, the person beside him was already nodding off like a chick pecking at rice.

Xiao Yinghuai watched him. Seeing that the ink on the tip of his brush was about to poke his cheek, he gave another light cough.

The young man jolted awake at once, wiped the drool from his mouth, and continued writing.

Having finished the scripture in his hands, Xiao Yinghuai had no intention of reading a another volume. Instead, he merely pretended to flip through the earlier pages.

Every time Song Jian nodded off, Xiao Yinghuai reminded him.

After seven or eight times—

Song Jian: “==.”

Aaaaaaaaah.

So sleepy—haaah—

After writing two more characters, Song Jian truly couldn’t hold on anymore. With a “thud”, he let his brush drop beneath the table.

In a daze, he mumbled, “Your Majesty, my brush fell… I’ll go pick it up…”

As he spoke, he tilted sideways and leaned over the edge of the table, one arm hanging down as he fumbled around on the floor for the brush.

Where’s the brush?

“…”

Brush…

Two seconds later, Xiao Yinghuai watched helplessly as he fell asleep right there, lying beside the table.

Song Jian: “zZZZZZ…”

Xiao Yinghuai: “…”

During meditation, one must avoid letting emotions flare. Just before he was about to laugh from irritation, he suppressed it again. He moved aside the armrest on the low table and picked up the scripture Song Jian had spent over an hour copying.

He looked at it for two seconds.

“…”

He closed his eyes.

Opened them again.

Looked once more.

“…”

Heh.

“Song Jian.”

Song Jian was still dreaming, making ‘miamiamiamia’ sounds with his mouth as though he was eating something.

Xiao Yinghuai called again, “Song Jian.”

In his dream, Song Jian was hiding on a roof beam secretly eating roast chicken. Just as the drumstick reached his mouth, he heard Xiao Yinghuai’s voice calling out to him like it was summoning his soul.

Calling, calling, calling—what are you calling for?!

Song Jian angrily covered his ears, pretending not to hear.

He took another two bites of the drumstick before suddenly being struck by a thought.

Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be doing meditation at the temple?

Song Jian abruptly woke up.

Eyes wide open, he stared at the floor right in front of him before realizing he had been pretending to pick up the brush…

…and had fallen asleep while picking it up.

Where’s my brush?

It was clearly right here!

Song Jian immediately started putting on an act again, pretending to search for the brush.

Just then, a deep voice came from behind him.

“What are you looking for?”

Song Jian forced his sleepy eyes open, putting on the appearance of someone who had never dozed off. Turning around, he asked in confusion, “My brush, Your Majesty. It fell on the floor just now, and suddenly it’s gone. How strange.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw a brush being leisurely twirled between the man’s long fingers.

It was exactly the one he had been using.

Song Jian laughed awkwardly. “So it was with Your Majesty…”

As he spoke, he reached out to take it.

Before his hand could touch it, Xiao Yinghuai deftly turned his wrist, and the brush lightly dropped into Song Jian’s palm.

“Looking for your brush?”

Song Jian: “Mm!”

“Just now?”

Song Jian: “Mm-hmm!”

Xiao Yinghuai: “By ‘just now,’ do you mean a quarter of an hour ago?”

Song Jian was dumbfounded.

Xiao Yinghuai slowly leaned closer, looking directly into his eyes as he informed him of the terrifying truth.

“As you said, you were picking up your brush. You spent a quarter of an hour picking it up. I called your name four times, and you never answered.”

“Wuwu…”

Song Jian stopped struggling altogether and went straight to begging for mercy.

“I was wrong, Your Majesty. I was too sleepy.”

Seeing that the man remained unmoved, he dropped to his knees on the small meditation cushion with a thump.

“I won’t dare do it again.”

Xiao Yinghuai lowered his gaze.

Mm. Didn’t look like it.

Still, Xiao Yinghuai had no intention of making things difficult for him. He placed the copied scripture back onto Song Jian’s table.

Just as he was about to let him leave, a gentle knock sounded at the door.

Wuwei’s ethereal voice drifted in.

“Your Majesty, would you be willing to play a game of chess with this humble monk?”

Xiao Yinghuai paused. Looking toward the eager figure kneeling on the meditation cushion, he raised a hand in silent approval.

With a whoosh, Song Jian sprang to his feet. He ran over to open the door and gratefully said, “Master Wuwei, His Majesty agreed. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Having said that, he slipped away immediately without the slightest hesitation.

Wuwei looked at the departing young man with a smile. As Xiao Yinghuai stepped out of the meditation room, Wuwei performed a Buddhist salute.

“It has been many years since I last saw Your Majesty smile like this.”

Xiao Yinghuai: “…”

If a cold smile counted as smiling.

After slipping away, Song Jian stretched his arms as he wandered aimlessly around the temple courtyard. Whenever he met a little monk sweeping, he went over to help sweep. Whenever he met one carrying water, he went over to help carry water. He was like a hardworking little bee who loved helping others.

At this moment, a low table had been set in the corridor outside the meditation room. Black and white chess pieces intertwined across the board, killing intent hidden beneath the silence.

Xiao Yinghuai and Wuwei sat on the ground opposite each other, each holding a chess piece.

Wuwei asked, “Why does Your Majesty play so gently these days?”

Xiao Yinghuai lightly rubbed the smooth black stone between his fingertips, his expression calm.

“Do I?”

Wuwei merely asked in return, “Does Your Majesty think not?”

Xiao Yinghuai did not answer. He placed a piece on the board.

After pondering for a moment, Wuwei also placed a piece. Then he shifted his attention from the board to the lively figure in the temple courtyard.

“When Your Majesty came last year, I said the heavens displayed ominous signs, and Great Yan feared disaster and turmoil. Looking again now, however, I see lucky stars surrounding us. It is a good omen.”

Xiao Yinghuai lifted his eyes and followed Wuwei’s gaze.

“Little Master, Little Master! What’s the name of the flowers over there on the wall?”

Song Jian came running over with quick steps.

“Little Master, Little Master! Where do you fetch water from? Can I come take a look too?”

Then he came running back again.

“I’ll help you! I’ll help you!”

“Ah—bird—”

“Ah—butterfly—”

“Benefactor Song, that’s a big moth.”

The young man seemed to have endless energy. The bright smile on his fair face made even the plain temple courtyard seem much more lively.

“Your Majesty, it’s your move.”

Xiao Yinghuai suddenly came back to his senses.

Wuwei still wore that same faint smile as he slowly said,

“Your Majesty, all Buddhas of the three times take their own mind as their fundamental teacher.”

By the time the game ended, the sky had already grown dark. A young novice came over with the vegetarian meal, and Song Jian quickly accepted it.

“Thank you, Little Master.”

He set the meal inside the meditation room, then leaned his head out and called, “Your Majesty, time to eat~”

Wuwei said, “Then please enjoy your meal, Your Majesty. This humble monk shall take his leave.”

When Xiao Yinghuai returned to the meditation room, he found that two large bowls of vegetarian food had been placed on his side.

He raised an eyebrow.

Song Jian hugged a tiny bowl while sitting on his meditation cushion. Inside was only a mouthful of rice. He went miamia, took two bites, and the bowl was empty.

“Your Majesty! I’m done eating!”

He even turned the bowl upside down for inspection.

At a glance, Xiao Yinghuai noticed the crumbs of pastry still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

“…”

He sat down at the table and leisurely ate his vegetarian meal.

“Who brought you pastries?”

Song Jian froze.

Holy crap, how did Xiao Yinghuai know?!

“If you tell me now, I can still choose not to pursue the matter.”

Song Jian shot to his feet from the meditation cushion and hesitantly walked over to the table.

“…A—a good friend brought them for me.”

Xiao Yinghuai: “Mm. Who?”

Song Jian tugged at his clothes, trying to muddle through by acting cute again.

“It’s… &*￥@…”

Xiao Yinghuai: “&*￥@ is who?”

Song Jian: “…”

Sorry, Xiao Ba.

“…It was the Grand Princess.”

Xiao Yinghuai looked at him.

Song Jian lowered his head.

“When did you become so close with Yongning?”

Song Jian scratched his fingers.

“Well… we just… ate together…”

Xiao Yinghuai: “When you secretly left the palace that time, she snuck out as well?”

Song Jian shuddered.

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?

Xiao Yinghuai: “Who else?”

Song Jian’s mind raced. Finally, inspiration struck.

“Your Majesty! There’s a cat outside!! I’ll go check!”

Without waiting for the Emperor’s reply, he hurriedly opened the door and ran.

This time, Song Jian hid outside for a long while. Only after night had grown deep and the candlelight inside the meditation room had gone out did he sneak back.

Certain that the person inside was already asleep, he quietly opened the door just a crack like a thief and tiptoed toward the corner.

“Where’s the cat?”

A voice suddenly came out of the darkness, startling Song Jian into freezing.

He stood there stiffly, a chill running down his spine.

“I’m asking you. Where’s the cat?”

The voice had silently reached his side. Song Jian could almost feel the vigorous warmth radiating from the man’s body.

Realizing his lie had been exposed, he trembled for a while.

Pinching his voice, he pitifully meowed,

“Meow~”

Xiao Yinghuai: “Heh.”

…

The wooden bed in the meditation room was not small, yet Song Jian shrank into the innermost corner against the wall.

Actually, he had been planning to sleep on the floor. At worst, he could spend the night perched on a roof beam. But when the Emperor beside him swept a glance over, Song Jian’s legs immediately went weak.

Forget it, forget it. He was the one in the wrong. The boss’s word was law.

He pressed his back against the wall, deliberately leaving an extremely wide Chu River-Han Border between them.

…

When Song Jian woke the next morning, there was already no sign of anyone in the meditation room. He didn’t linger either. With a few quick movements, he got up and ran outside.

Meanwhile, Xiao Yinghuai was inside Wuwei’s meditation chamber.

He was copying a volume of scripture, yet within the space of only two lines, he had already written three incorrect characters.

With his eyes closed, Wuwei tapped the wooden fish.

“When the mind is not at peace, wisdom cannot arise. If Your Majesty has yet to understand, you may come another day.”

Xiao Yinghuai set down his brush.

“I merely wanted to spend some time here.”

Wuwei smiled.

“What matter troubles Your Majesty so greatly?”

Xiao Yinghuai gazed at the lush bamboo grove outside without replying.

Wuwei said, “I suppose it must be that little lucky star.”

Opening his eyes, he added another profound remark.

“Your Majesty, after all, he is the first person you have ever brought to Fuhui Temple.”

Xiao Yinghuai: “…”

This bald monk.

Song Jian spent the entire day outside playing with the little monks and never once saw Xiao Yinghuai. He was perfectly happy about that, afraid he might be dragged back to continue copying scriptures.

Toward evening, he happened to run into two little monks who were about to fetch water outside the temple.

Raising his hand, Song Jian shouted, “Little Masters! Let me come with you!”

The two little masters, their shaved heads gleaming brightly, looked at each other before shaking their heads, “No.”

Song Jian asked in surprise, “Why?!”

The first little monk said, “Because one monk carries water to drink.”

The second little monk said, “Two monks carry water together to drink.”

Then they both said in unison, “But three monks have no water to drink.”¹This is a famous Chinese proverb and children’s tale illustrating the idea that when too many people share responsibility, everyone assumes someone else will do the work, and nothing gets done.

Song Jian fell silent.

After thinking for a moment, he replied with impeccable logic,

“But I’m not a monk.”

Little Monk One: “O.O!”

Little Monk Two: “O.O!”

They said, “That’s true.”

“Then we’ll trouble you, Benefactor Song! Let’s go!”

Song Jian happily followed them out of the temple.

The place where they fetched water was a small pond not far from the temple. The pond connected to the river halfway up the mountain. The water was crystal clear, with only a few little fish swimming about.

Song Jian helped the two little monks carry two buckets of water back. Then he swayed his way back to the temple, returned the water, and came back out carrying the empty buckets for a second trip.

Song Jian walked quickly, with the two little monks trailing behind him.

“Benefactor Song, please slow down.”

Song Jian: “Okaaay~”

Song Jian had already reached the pond. As he stepped down, some gravel and dirt beside his feet tumbled into the water, muddying the area nearest the shore. So he leaned forward to scoop water from farther away.

Splash…

Splash…

Then—

Plop—

Hearing the commotion, the two little monks hurriedly looked up, only to find Song Jian in the pond, glub-glub bubbles rising to the surface.

Two bubbles floated up.

“Blub… blub…”

“Help—”

Another two bubbles floated up.

“Blub… blub…”

“Save me—”

“Blub… blub… blub…”

The two little monks hurried over.

“Benefactor Song! Benefactor Song!”

“You… #@￥%%&…”

Panicking in the water, Song Jian couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

Until, at one moment, he felt himself being lifted by a large hand.

Wuwuwuwu!

Just as Song Jian was feeling touched, a somewhat speechless male voice sounded beside his ear.

“Stand up.”

Song Jian: “?”

He opened his eyes, wet from being soaked in water, and blinked twice.

Huh?

Looking down, he discovered that even while sitting, the pond water didn’t reach his neck.

Quite a few monks from the temple had gathered by the shore. The two monks who had been fetching water anxiously explained from the side,

“We… we told Lord Song that the pond isn’t deep…”

Song Jian: “…”

The Tiancha Division’s shadow guards never fail…

…except when they slip.

In the end, Song Jian was carried back to the meditation room. His clothes were soaked through as he pitifully rummaged through his bundle.

Fortunately, Xiao Yongning had made him several thicker sets of clothes. He took one out and hugged it before turning around.

Ever since returning to the meditation room, Xiao Yinghuai had been holding a scripture without once looking up.

Song Jian stood there awkwardly for a while. Feeling increasingly cold, he ultimately wasn’t bold enough to ask the Emperor before him to leave and give him some privacy.

He quietly retreated into a corner and little by little peeled the wet clothes clinging to his body off.

What Song Jian didn’t know was—

The scripture was upside down.

 

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  This is a famous Chinese proverb and children’s tale illustrating the idea that when too many people share responsibility, everyone assumes someone else will do the work, and nothing gets done.