Chapter 1 What Fang Feng Thought

No matter what Fang Feng was thinking, Daoyan had ultimately left.

He felt a bit melancholic.

After all, this was practically the last person he recognized from the early Ming Dynasty.

Bingyi, on the other hand, had managed to find a subordinate who was barely passable and dragged him to the depths of the sea for the next stage of training. Poor Xiang Liu, who had wreaked havoc in the Sakura Island area for who knew how many years, didn't even have the power to fight back and was dragged straight into the sea.

Fang Feng returned to the house, sighing that the monk had finally left. Now he wouldn't have to endure that agonizing OCD torment. For someone like him, who had been lazing around as a salted fish in the East Sea for thousands of years, chaos was order.

He felt comfortable and at ease in a state of chaos and could accurately find what he needed in a messy room. If you cleaned and tidied it up for him, it would make him uncomfortable and out of sorts.

If he hadn't been planning to give Daoyan some Eight Treasure Porridge to see how someone with OCD would react, he wouldn't have bothered taking in the monk.

Now he was finally gone.

He was feeling happy as he reached out and pushed open the door, but then Fang Feng froze in place—

The whole house seemed to have changed.

The gaps in the doors and windows were sealed tightly, every bowl was neatly arranged as if it had been copied and pasted, every chopstick was aligned, placed like a whole piece of wood, and the teapot on the table was placed steadily in the very center of the table's diagonal.

Everything was so orderly that it was stress-relieving and gave Fang Feng, who had been a salted fish for thousands of years, a twitching feeling of order. He suddenly remembered something, gasped, and quickly walked to the storeroom, where he saw that every cabbage in the pickle jar was arranged in exactly the same way.

Fang Feng took a deep breath and then opened the rice jar.

He saw that every grain of rice was neatly stacked together, and the rice in the entire jar was like an orderly arranged collection. The pickles in the pickle jar next to it were also neatly placed together, arranged into separate piles of shredded pickles, chili peppers, and garlic.

Orderly.

So orderly that it felt like Fang Feng didn't belong there.

Bingyi happened to be back to get something, holding the pickle jar, and said with emotion:

"I wanted to ask you just now."

"Fang Feng, when did you move?"

"This is much better than your pigsty..."

Fang Feng's mouth twitched.

He gritted his teeth.

".........Dao, Yan..."

"You better not come to my house again in this lifetime!"

"This is a blatant act of revenge!"

He didn't know which of Fang Feng's words triggered the formation that had been left behind.

The voice of the monk left behind in the house came, ethereal and plain.

"Amitabha."

"This is karma..."

Karma?

Cause and effect, tit for tat.

Fang Feng's face froze, thinking of the Eight Treasure Porridge he had given the monk.

Thinking of Xu Shi, who had directly blocked his way, the corner of his mouth twitched.

This monk...

Was too petty, wasn't he?

……………………

Pleasure, oh, pleasure!

Daoyan was in a very good mood.

Taking advantage of Fang Feng's absence, he had successfully completed the thing he had wanted to do every moment for the past period of time—restoring order to the home of that salted fish. He had to say, for him, restoring order to that chaos was an extremely satisfying thing.

And taking advantage of this relaxed and pleasant mood, he followed the address left by Wei Yuan and quickly arrived in Quanzhou. After arriving in Quanzhou, he slowed down his pace and walked slowly towards the museum, his mind gradually returning to a state of tranquility.

This was the origin of the problem he had always wanted to pursue.

It was the source of the change in his fate.

It was the karmic obstacle that had tormented him for more than six hundred years.

He was ready to face it.

Finally, he stood in front of the museum, sorted out his thoughts, and then knocked on the door.

With the light sound of the bell on the door, the door was pulled open.

Daoyan looked solemn and was about to speak first.

"Curator Wei..."

Then he saw a bright, round, bald head sticking out from inside the museum.

A tall figure, wearing a pink Hello Kitty apron, with chopsticks in one hand and a wooden spatula in the other.

The apron was a group purchase by Yuanjue and the community aunties online. The pattern was random, but it could save five yuan.

The whole body smelled of daily life.

The magnificent aura that the young monk had been brewing was instantly dissipated.

Daoyan: "…………"

The two monks looked at each other and fell into a kind of silence.

The senior monk Yuanjue was the first to react, sensing the aura of true Buddhist cultivation on the latter, and a hearty smile appeared on his face. He put his hands together and said, "So it's a fellow Buddhist cultivator. May I ask, junior brother, where are you practicing? What brings you here?"

Daoyan exhaled a breath of stale air, and all the distracting thoughts in his heart were calmed down. He put his hands together and said:

"This poor monk is Daoguang, here to visit Curator Wei."

"Oh, Curator Wei, you've come at the right time."

Yuanjue said, "He just came back yesterday afternoon."

"Please come in."

Yuanjue led Daoyan, who was going by the name Daoguang, into the museum. The interior of the museum was quiet and peaceful, with an overall ancient feeling. Daoyan sat quietly at a table on the side, picked up the teacup that a staff member had just brought over, took a sip, and paused slightly.

He lowered his head.

He saw that there was black cola in the teacup.

The monk, who practiced simple diet and self-discipline, was silent and slowly raised his head.

The Water Ghost next to him gave a bright smile and gave a thumbs up with his right hand.

Wei Family Museum's latest formula, Water Ghost brand cola, gives you and me happiness.

You deserve it!

Daoyan: "…………"

The young monk took a deep breath.

This poor monk is here for revenge./

Please respect me.

He put the cola on the table next to him, closed his eyes, and silently chanted the Diamond Sutra to empty his mind. Wei Yuan, who had been notified, ended his cultivation and walked out. Seeing the young monk he had seen at the foot of Tiantai Sect Mountain, a smile appeared on his face, and he walked up to him and said, "Little Master Daoguang, you've come."

Daoyan opened his eyes, nodded, and said, "Curator Wei."

He took a slight step forward and was about to speak when he saw Wei Yuan directly grab his arm. For some reason, in that short moment, the monk seemed to see a huge, terrifying god-like phantom with a battle axe behind Wei Yuan, with a stern aura. He was originally going to resist, but he couldn't help but pause and was caught in the blink of an eye.

"Have you eaten?"

"Since you're here, it's just lunchtime."

"Why don't we eat together today?"

Three questions in a row.

Daoyan didn't have time to object and was dragged to sit down.

When he came to his senses again, he was already sitting at the dining table with several people. He slowly lowered his head and saw that in his bowl, coarse rice, black rice, quinoa, rice, pearl rice, mung beans, and red beans were mixed together in a disorderly manner.

Yuanjue next to him smiled heartily and said, "It just so happens that the rice in the supermarket is on sale recently. Let's change the flavor. Mixed grain rice is also delicious."

Daoyan took a deep breath, preparing to suppress the instinct in his heart to put down his chopsticks.

At this time, Wei Yuan took a spoonful of spicy Mapo Tofu and poured it generously into Daoyan's bowl. In an instant, the red sauce flowed down from the gaps in the mixed grain rice in a natural and disorderly manner, and the hot and broken tofu rolled onto the rice, each piece with its own posture, each piece with its own action.

The young monk's movements stiffened.

He slowly raised his head and looked at Wei Yuan.

Wei Yuan's expression was gentle and sincere, making Daoyan unable to tell whether he was deliberately pretending or unintentionally perfect. After a moment of silence, the monk slowly lowered his head and stared at the mixed grain rice covered with Mapo Tofu—if he was only 60% sure before that the Yuan was this Wei Yuan, then now he was 80% sure.

No matter how many years passed.

This guy could detonate his emotions directly in three seconds.

He had clearly come for revenge, so why had it turned out like this?

Daoyan sighed in his heart, closed his eyes, and stuffed the rice into his mouth.

After a lunch that was at least harmonious on the surface, Daoyan was able to spend some time alone with Wei Yuan. Before, the disciples of the Tiantai Sect had brought his alms bowl to let 'Wei Yuan' see, but the other party had no reaction at that time. So Daoyan brought something that was more meaningful to that Yuan this time—

In Yuan's previous life, he had obtained this thing, and then lost it, entangled endlessly.

Daoyan said softly:

"Since Curator Wei has opened a museum and collects ancient objects extensively, I wonder if you recognize this thing."

He took out a box, gently opened it, and handed it to Wei Yuan.

Inside was a withered yellow piece of paper.

Wei Yuan's pupils suddenly contracted, and scenes flashed through his mind—

The no-longer-young Taoist stroked the classics that he had reworked and updated, and after a long silence, suddenly opened the contents, tore off the newest page, and threw it directly into the stove. This action made his body even worse, and he coughed violently.

The young man next to him quickly pounded the Taoist's back, but at this moment, the brazier suddenly shook.

Several pages were blown out of the house by the wind from the fire. The young man was about to look for them, but he saw a sudden gust of evil wind rising from the ground, causing the pages to fly far away. With the young man's foot speed, he couldn't catch up at all, and the Taoist behind him was silent for a long time, only sighing that this was heaven's will and there was nothing he could do.

This was something that should have been destroyed in his inheritance but was accidentally preserved.

In the museum, Wei Yuan slowly opened his mouth and read the name of the paper word by word:

"...The Taiping Essential Techniques, Severing Dragon Veins."

ps: Today's third update... Happy Mid-Autumn Festival in advance everyone~ May your families be reunited and all your wishes come true.