Royal Gold Medal County Magistrate

The next day, the notice board on the street was updated again.

The narrator excitedly said to a group of people: "Everyone! Everyone! Yesterday's Fuyun Temple event was too popular, and the Buddhist beads are no longer enough!"

"To thank all the pilgrims for their kindness, Fuyun Temple announces that everyone can bring their personal belongings from home and have the masters bless them!"

"At the same time! Pilgrims who go today will receive three copper coins each, but those who went yesterday will not!"

Someone in the crowd complained: "Why don't those who went yesterday get anything! Isn't Fuyun Temple scamming people? There's no benefit to going early, but you can get three copper coins if you go late. Is there any logic to that?"

"That's right! That's right! Isn't this just fooling people?"

The narrator sneered: "Then why don't you disguise yourself and go again? Anyway, there will definitely be a lot of people, who will know who you are?"

"Hiss... That's right! I'm going then!"

..........

After some inquiries, Abbot Hongcheng already knew what was going on.

It turned out that he had been played by the government. However, the situation was unclear, and he didn't dare to act rashly. He thought about resolving the remaining pilgrims the next day and then going to the government to talk to someone.

After a day of high-intensity bead spinning, several senior monks had blisters on their hands. The most serious was Master Huijue, whose hand was swollen like a pig's trotter... It seemed that he usually didn't spin the beads enough.

Abbot Hongcheng persuaded everyone with great difficulty, promising to bless items for a while longer the next day.

Unexpectedly, the next day, when he opened the gate of Fuyun Temple again, he was stunned by the scene before him.

This time, the pilgrims flocked into the temple, carrying all sorts of strange things.

Some brought broken bowls and basins, and others carried shoulder poles.

The most outrageous one even brought a chamber pot...

Abbot Hongcheng felt his throat being choked, and he asked in a trembling voice: "Esteemed benefactors... why have you brought so many things today?"

The people below laughed: "Didn't you say that your Buddhist beads were not enough and you wanted to bless personal items? Don't worry, Abbot, we've brought them all. We will definitely not disappoint the venerable monks!"

"Also, where do we collect the three copper coins?"

Abbot Hongcheng's voice trembled even more: "What three copper coins?"

"Didn't you say that each pilgrim would receive three copper coins? Don't you want to go back on your word?"

"I c... How could that be! My Fuyun Temple would never break its promise! Esteemed benefactors, please have your items blessed first, and then each person can collect three copper coins..."

Three copper coins per person... How much money is that! Is the incense money earned in the past few days enough to pay out?

Abbot Hongcheng stared straight at the crowd, constantly thinking in his mind.

The hand under his kasaya had already clenched into a bloody fist... Abbot Hongcheng couldn't figure out who he had offended! Why would they target Fuyun Temple like this!

The several senior monks behind him were even more unbearable.

The color had completely drained from their faces, and they were shaking like sieves...

What a sin! They had chanted scriptures for a lifetime, but in the end, they had to suffer this kind of torment! Where is justice!

The most unbearable was Master Huijue, who looked like he had lost his parents. His hand, swollen like a pig's trotter, trembled slightly, and he kept muttering.

Fang Zheng Yi... it must be Fang Zheng Yi who is playing tricks.

I'm just trying to earn some extra money, and you have to torture me... I've already been tortured once, is there no end to it!

Even so, the senior monks still forced themselves to calm down, knelt on the futons, and began to bless the items one by one.

There was no choice but to bless them! Yesterday, they were already in a difficult position... Today, many people were still those who lined up last night. If they were not blessed again, not only would Fuyun Temple be smashed, but they would also be unable to escape disaster.

Master Huijue took the chamber pot handed over by a smiling hooligan in front of him and began to "play" with it in his hands.

He began to rap again.

The hooligan found it interesting and said: "Master, you must bless it well. This chamber pot is a treasure passed down for three generations in my family, and it is of great significance!"

I want to smash the chamber pot on your face!

Master Huijue suppressed the anger in his heart and smiled: "Benefactor, don't worry, this humble monk will definitely do his best..."

"Thank you, Master! But... why is your hand swollen?"

Damn it!

..........

After another day of hard work, the senior monks, who had already developed blisters on one hand yesterday, now had both hands bleeding profusely.

If it were Buddhist beads, it would be fine. They are round and have little friction, but now all kinds of strange things are being brought up, even broken things like bamboo baskets and wicker baskets.

Those things are prickly!

If they didn't spin them around in their hands, the pilgrims would immediately cast fierce glances.

You spun the Buddhist beads, why don't you spin my things? Are you looking down on me? Will the blessing still be effective?

Under the "coercion" of the crowd, the senior monks had no choice but to grit their teeth and spin the groceries.

A group of villains in the temple saw that the senior monks' hands were bleeding, but they didn't feel a bit of pity. Instead, they became even more excited!

This is the blood of senior monks, which can ward off evil and bring good fortune. The blessing effect is directly maximized!

As for whether you are uncomfortable or not, what does it have to do with me?

Monks, it's okay to bleed a little!

Seeing that there were too many people, Abbot Hongcheng also personally joined the team of spinning groceries.

However, everyone obviously looked down on the monks from the local temple. The senior monks from other temples were more popular.

The line in front of him was obviously not as long as the other monks.

Even so, Abbot Hongcheng's hands still developed blisters.

The sky was already dark, and looking at the dense crowd in the courtyard, Abbot Hongcheng's heart turned cold...

All the merit money in the donation box had been distributed, and there were still countless people waiting to be blessed and receive money.

Even if he could muddle through today, what would he do tomorrow?

For a time, Abbot Hongcheng was in a state of confusion.

After a long pause, he finally couldn't help but stand up and shout: "Everyone! Everyone, it's over! The blessing is over! This temple has no more money, please go back! !"

His roar immediately caused an uproar below.

"What! I've been lining up for two days! Are you playing with people, you son of a bitch!"

"Liar! Liar! Liar! !"

"Now the blessing hasn't been done! The money hasn't been given! How are you going to compensate us?"

"That's right! How are you going to compensate us! !"

A group of commoners below shouted enthusiastically, for fear that they would not be able to take advantage.

At this moment, the evil of human nature was fully revealed, and perhaps only the Buddha himself could resolve the matter.

Abbot Hongcheng despaired: "Then there is nothing left. What do you want this humble monk to do to satisfy you!"

"This event was not organized by this temple! ! ! !"

"Liar! Then why didn't you say so earlier?"

" ........... " Hongcheng was now suffering in silence.

"We can skip the blessing! We've been waiting here all day, so you should give us the three copper coins!"

Abbot Hongcheng said in grief and indignation: "There is no money! This temple is small and poor, where would we get so much money!"

"So many pilgrims and you're telling me there's no money!"

"Liar! Liar! Liar! !"

Tears of despair slid down the corners of his eyes, and Abbot Hongcheng helplessly looked at the senior monks who were still numbly spinning the groceries. Their hands were already bloody and blurred, and they were still muttering rap.

"Then... do whatever you want."

Hearing him say this, several senior monks stopped their movements, sighed to the sky, and breathed a sigh of relief...

One of the monks silently put down the hoe he had been spinning halfway.

The pilgrim in front of him immediately became anxious: "Master, don't listen to them! Keep blessing it! The blood hasn't been smeared all over it yet, it's only been blessed halfway!"

"Slap!"

A large bloody handprint appeared on the pilgrim's face.

"Bless your mother!"