Chapter 228: A Strange Person

In just a few days, Fusheng experienced the harsh realities of life.

His belongings were stolen.

The place where he usually begged for alms was occupied by the monks of the Golden Buddha Temple.

Those monks, with their silver tongues, promised all sorts of benefits after death, enticing devout Buddhists to empty their pockets, making Fusheng’s eyelids twitch.

There was no place left for him in Picheng, forcing him to leave.

It was even harder outside the city. In villages and towns, upon hearing that he was a wandering monk, they wouldn’t let him enter.

He ventured into a village and was beaten up by the villagers.

It wasn’t because the villagers didn’t believe in Buddha, but because… a monk had already visited and claimed this territory.

The villagers protected the monk’s turf, and they split the alms 30/70.

Fair and reasonable, in accordance with Jianghu rules.

Lying by the roadside, Fusheng felt like he couldn’t go on. He was so hungry that he felt dizzy.

He only had a single ragged garment left.

He saw an old woman, limping, with a basket on her arm that seemed to contain food.

“Old Benefactor, could you spare this poor monk some food? This poor monk is willing to chant three scrolls of scriptures to pray for your peace and safety.” Fusheng hurriedly clasped his hands together and bowed.

The old woman with gray hair glanced at him, but didn’t speak.

Fusheng pleaded again and again, but the old woman still ignored him.

Finally, out of options, Fusheng had a sudden idea and said, “Mother! Can you bear to let your son starve to death?”

The old woman, hearing this monk’s shameless words, wanted to scold him for his audacity, but then she noticed a resemblance between him and her son.

“You do look a bit like my son. Here, take it! This is all I have.” The old woman gave him a steamed bun made of sweet potato flour.

The bun was dark and only half the size of Fusheng’s palm. Back in the Golden Buddha Temple, he wouldn’t even look at such a bun.

Now, he was overjoyed. He swallowed it in two bites and kowtowed repeatedly to the old woman. “Thank you, Mother! May you have good health, all the best, and happiness as vast as the Eastern Sea.”

The old woman didn’t respond. She just muttered, “If only things could truly be all the best,” and walked away.

After eating the bun, Fusheng felt even hungrier.

He felt like he had mastered a new begging technique, so he started calling every old woman “Mother” and every old man “Father.”

Then… he was beaten up by a group of beggars.

Because he had crossed the line.

Originally, his way of begging as a monk was different from that of beggars. Now, by calling everyone “Father” and “Mother,” he was basically acting like a beggar.

Fortunately, although he was starving and dizzy, the foundation from his martial arts training in his youth allowed him to withstand the beating.

However, he could no longer stay in this area.

He was forced to leave.

That’s how it is in the Jianghu. Either you can overpower the local bullies, or you get driven out by them.

Every person, every profession is meticulously divided, even begging is categorized.

He couldn’t go back to the city, and he couldn’t survive in the villages and towns. Where could he go?

He could only die.

So, he really went to die.

Because there was no place for him to live, and he had no way to survive.

He found a crooked tree and tore his clothes into strips, tying them together to form a rope.

He tossed the rope over a branch, stepped onto a rock, and was about to put the noose around his neck.

One push with his foot, and he would be free.

✿✿✿

Living was too tiring.

As for descending into the eighteen levels of hell, let those fellow disciples go first!

With this thought, he kicked the rock from under his feet.

He was immediately choked by the rope, feeling the pain, knowing he was about to die.

From a revered Buddha Master in the Golden Buddha Temple to a destitute beggar.

Looking back on his life, it had passed in such a muddled way.

Thinking about these things, he felt a sense of falling. Was this the feeling of falling into hell after death?

But he didn’t fall into hell. He felt pain, so… he wasn’t dead.

“Cough… cough…” Fusheng clutched his throat and opened his eyes, seeing a person.

A strange person.

Firstly, his hair was very short, as short as a monk’s.

Not all monks were bald.

Hair grew every day. If you didn’t shave for a few days, even a shaved head would have a layer of short hair. So, shaving every day was a very tedious task.

Only high-ranking or very wealthy monks had other monks shave their heads every day, even waxing them to maintain their image.

In Fusheng’s current state, his hair was messy, over an inch long, about the same as the person before him.

Secondly, it was his appearance, or rather, his demeanor.

He had neither the arrogance nor the humility of a martial artist, nor the humbleness or numbness of an ordinary person. It was just a plain and ordinary demeanor.

His clothes were blue-green, buttoned down the middle, with a narrow collar and narrow sleeves, different from the mainstream clothing in the Jianghu. He wore riding breeches on his lower body, but they were neat and tidy.

He wasn’t old, and behind him, there was a long sword and a package.

“Hey, hey, hey… why are you hanging yourself naked? It’s indecent!” the person said with a grin.

In his laughter, there was a hint of… cynicism.

“I’m already dead, who cares about decency!” Fusheng glanced at the strange person and said, then picked up the cloth rope from the ground.

He saw that the broken end of the rope was very smooth, as if it had been cut by a sharp blade.

“Why do you have to meddle in other people’s business? Now I have to hang myself again.” Fusheng re-tied the broken rope and threw it over the branch.

He was going to hang himself again.

The person looked at him with a grin and said, “There’s nothing in life that can’t be resolved. Why don’t you tell me about it and make me laugh.”

“…” Fusheng thought this person was crazy. He just silently moved the rock back into place, stood on it, put the noose around his neck, and said:

“There are people like me everywhere. If you want to have fun, go somewhere else. Just let me die.”

With that, he closed his eyes and kicked the rock away.

With a “thud,” he fell to the ground again, his whole body aching from the impact.

“Are you sick! Why are you doing this! Let me die! Let me die!” Fusheng looked at the strange man and roared.

Even a clay figurine had a temper, let alone being tricked twice in a row.

As if frightened by Fusheng’s hysterical roar, the person finally said seriously, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to save you!”

“What good is your intention! Do you think I want to die? I want to live too, but only if I can survive! Do you think I want to die…” Fusheng roared at the person, and as he spoke, he couldn’t help but burst into tears.

He had truly suffered during this time.

“If you really want to live, you can go to Yangzhou.” The person said, “But first, do me a small favor and tell me where Picheng is.”

“Yangzhou?” Fusheng had naturally heard of the strange Yangzhou. Picheng was in the middle of Xuzhou, not far from Yangzhou.

People from Yangzhou!