Big Data Cultivation-Chapter 598 - Temptation

Chapter 598: Chapter 598 Temptation

Chapter 598 -598 Temptation

The Daoist Sect’s leniency can be illustrated in many aspects, such as Maoshan’s attitude today—it’s not bad. Our vegetarian meals are prepared for the visiting Taoists. If you don’t like them, feel free to find your own food.

In the past, no barbecuing was allowed in the Ten Directions Hall, but today… there’s an exception!

However, Feng Jun’s sarcastic remarks displeased the monk, and in an instant, his benevolent visage transformed into a fierce one. “Donor, you have a serious problem with your values, lacking reverence. Why bother coming to Maoshan to worship gods and Buddha if that’s the case?”

Feng Jun was so angered he laughed, but before he could retort, Gazi spoke up first. “I say, Buddha, you’re really overstepping your bounds a bit. We came to Maoshan for the ceremony, which is our business with Maoshan. What does it have to do with you?”

Buddha became a little angry too and raised his voice, “Where are the Maoshan Taoists? Can such a filthy person even be allowed to observe the ceremony?”

His shout was extremely loud; although it couldn’t compare to the Buddhist Lion’s Roar, it was on par with a platoon leader shouting cadence.

The awkward thing was… no one paid him any attention!

Maoshan also didn’t want to see others barbecuing in their own Ten Directions Hall. Who wouldn’t want their home dojo to be orderly and disciplined as long as they have some level of pursuit?

But that was impossible. In today’s society, the Buddhist Sect is obviously a bit more popular than the Daoist Sects.

With prosperity in their incense-offerings comes the privilege to set the rules.

But, speaking of which, the Daoists have never imposed as many constraints on people as the Buddhists have.

The Buddhists cultivate the next life. If you want to live merrily in your next existence, you must restrain yourself in numerous ways in this life to seek liberation—want the next life but refuse to follow the rules or obey? You think you can ask for rebirth?

Daoists cultivate themselves. If I manage myself well, I can achieve a new realm of existence, ascend to the heavens, and bring my chicken and dog along, time and again—whatever level I want to practice, I practice.

Seeing a monk begging is common, but how many have seen a Taoist beg? People who cultivate themselves don’t rely on others.

Taoists who seek nothing from others do not confine others; on the contrary, it is the monks who seek from others who set many rules to bind their followers—is this really okay? Do you really think the whole world owes you?

The essence of Brother Qiang’s policy of nonviolent non-cooperation is exactly that.

I’ve digressed, but Daoist self-cultivation also entails restraint, which is self-imposed and not enforced upon others.

This is one of the fundamental differences between the Buddhist and Daoist Sects.

After shouting for a while with no response, the monk became a bit embarrassed. “Um, let’s get to know each other. I am Jue Hui from the Southern Shaolin… What are your names?”

Gao Qiang gave him a glance and flashed a grin. “I’m Jue Yuan from Mount Song… We all belong to the ‘Jue’ generation, huh?”

Compared to Gazi’s undisguised disdain for the Buddhist Sect, Gao Qiang’s demeanor was much kinder, but this kindness was veiled with profound malevolence. You should know, he once worked against medical fraudsters, harboring an innate disgust for con artists.

Are there great and virtuous monks? Perhaps, but the monks he had encountered… are best not mentioned, especially those from renowned temples flush with incense offerings, full of indescribable filth.

Jue Hui became furious at the response. Jue Yuan from Mount Song… That’s a character from movies and TV dramas, isn’t it? Are you implying that I’m just acting?

Nevertheless, in the presence of many people, he still spoke amicably. “Donor, please don’t joke.”

His affable demeanor was so overdone that even Feng Jing found it hard to watch.

She was a travel enthusiast who had visited countless famous mountains and rivers and had her own perspectives on monks in the Mortal World.

“Master, why the pretense of arrogance followed by humility? Just a moment ago, you were sternly chastising us, and now you seem fine with joking around?”

However, could Jue Hui’s thick skin really be pierced by just anyone’s casual remarks?

He smiled genially, unfazed. “When I spoke up just now, it was in the name of justice. I still believe that making noise at this sacred place of Ling Shan is inconsiderate to others seeking tranquility and displays a lack of devotion and reverence…”

“However,” his tone shifted in the next moment, “since the Maoshan disciples have chosen to ignore it, why should I, a mere guest, make a fuss? As for my current demeanor, it is part of my personal cultivation and has nothing to do with justice.”

“Since it’s a personal matter, why should I care about a little criticism or praise?”

He spoke with such righteous indignation that Feng Jing was somewhat at a loss for words. Just then, Feng Jun let out a cold laugh. “So, the great monk also realizes that disturbing the peace isn’t good. Why don’t you hurry up and leave, then?”

Even with Jue Hui’s thick skin, facing such a blatant eviction, he had no grounds to stay any longer. Thus, after chanting the Buddha’s name, he turned and left.

“Heh,” as Gao Qiang watched him walk away, he sneered disdainfully. “Pretentious at first, then feigning humility, simply to probe our depths. That monk truly lacks integrity.”

Jue Hui’s figure paused inconspicuously, then continued on as if nothing had happened.

“Alright, Brother Qiang,” Li Shishi spoke up to stop him, harboring some reverence for monks and Taoists. “He’s gone now, let’s not bother with him anymore. It’s better not to provoke such eccentrics whenever possible.”

In fact, most people share her mentality—better to avoid unnecessary trouble. Even the well-traveled Feng Jing nodded in agreement. “Right, why bother arguing with them over truth?”

“What do you two know about the wicked deeds of these monks?” Gao Qiang scoffed. “You must have read Investiture of the Gods, right? Once they fancy something good, they come up with this line… ‘Amitabha, this item is predestined to be mine.'”

Listening to his amusing tale, the three ladies couldn’t stop themselves from laughing, shaking like blooming flowers in the wind.

Gazi casually passed a can of beer to Feng Jun and then chimed in with support, “Don’t laugh, it really happened like that… If we had been intimidated by him, or shown him any kind of respect, who knows what he might have done. In our place, this is called ‘stepping on the plate’.”

Just then, three more people approached from a distance, “What’s cooking over there? It smells amazing!”

The middle-aged man with the whisker beard turned his head to look and grunted softly, “Hmm?”

The three newcomers, also worldly folks, were taken aback upon seeing Whisker Hu, and the one in the middle raised his hand and spoke deferentially, “So it’s Master Xiong. We didn’t realize you were here; please excuse the intrusion.”

“You’re too polite, young friend,” Whisker Hu waved his hand dismissively. “I have some matters to attend to here. And you…?”

“We won’t disturb you any longer,” the trio said as they decisively turned around and left.

By this time, quite a few of Feng Jun and the others’ skewers were ready, and the seven of them began to feast heartily. In late November, Maoshan could be rather chilly, but everyone was comfortably eating by the charcoal fire.

Feng Jun’s skewers were almost ready as well.

Whisker Hu swallowed and once again turned his gaze to Di Aixin, “Young friend, I’ll buy your skewers for one hundred thousand yuan.”

He had originally thought of spending a hundred or two hundred yuan on the skewers, but he needed a way to save face. Thankfully, a monk came along to stir things up, and now, as he revised his offer, it seemed to be the result of “careful deliberation,” no longer fearing others’ wagging tongues.

Di Aixin firmly shook his head, “Not for sale!”

This amount was far from what he had expected, but the thought that someone was willing to pay one hundred thousand yuan for a skewer made his heart race—should he really eat it?

Of course, he was going to eat it; if not, given President Feng’s temperament, who had generously offered it, he might just as well take it back.

Yet, eating it in such a way would be incredibly painful; it was, after all, a whole hundred thousand yuan.

Certainly, the other party offering one hundred thousand yuan for the skewer must not have taken it seriously, and for a moment, he secretly prayed: Please raise the price, hurry and raise it.

Whisker Hu didn’t raise the price, but another middle-aged man did, “Old Xiong, you’re being too stingy. This skewer is brimming with vitality; it has great benefits for us martial artists. I’ll take it for three hundred thousand yuan—cash for goods.”

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His eyes were sharp, and he had noticed that Di Aixin’s vitality was a bit off—clearly, the young lad was not at peace.

He believed the essence contained in the skewer was worth three hundred thousand yuan. Of course, this was mainly to give Old Xiong a chance to up his offer, but if Old Xiong didn’t raise the price, he wouldn’t hesitate to claim his winnings.

However, a young man behind him couldn’t help but interject, “Dad!”

Three hundred thousand for a small skewer of meat… Do you really think it’s a fair price? Even though our family isn’t exactly strapped for cash, we can’t just spend it like this.

The middle-aged man turned around and glared fiercely at him, almost wishing his gaze could kill: You little brat, if I could get my hands on that skewer, it would be for you to eat!

Di Aixin’s heart raced even faster—three hundred thousand… Would it go any higher?

At the critical moment, Whisker Hu truly lived up to his brother’s orchestration, laughing, “Come on, we can’t be snatching deals like this… I offer five hundred thousand, but young man, this is the final price. Tell me, do you sell or not?”

To sell, or not to sell? Di Aixin couldn’t make up his mind and glanced sideways at Feng Jun for guidance.

Feng Jun, with droopy eyelids, sipped his beer with one hand and flipped skewers with the other, seemingly oblivious to the scene before him.

Di Aixin steadied his thoughts and asked, “Uncle, just now someone called you Master Xiong… May I ask, what kind of master are you?”

“Just messing around,” Whisker Hu replied with a slight smile. “Learned some farming moves to make a living.”

I bet you’re that kind of person! Di Aixin silently nodded. He was young but not foolish.

So, he smiled slyly and curiously asked, “Then, Uncle, your strength… It must be quite considerable, huh?”

Feng Jun put down his beer, took out a cigarette, and pursed his lips, but inside, he was chuckling: This kid, so naive and clueless… and yet he knew how to play such a trick?

“Well…” Whisker Hu pondered. He indeed was not weak, and having honed his internal martial arts to a high degree, sheer brute strength wasn’t his forte.

But in front of so many people, how could he admit to a weakness?

So he responded with a smile, “As a farmer, my strength is not that great; there are many stronger than me… but someone like you probably couldn’t beat me.”

He had phrased his response quite modestly.

Di Aixin’s heart sank when he heard the first part and nearly couldn’t control his disappointment.

However, the turnaround in the second half made his heart soar with joy, and he smiled, “How about this, Uncle? Let’s make a bet, shall we?”

“An arm-wrestling match… If you win, the skewer is yours; if you lose, your five hundred thousand is mine. How about it?”