Chapter 39 For the Future of Our Monastery (With a Compassionate Expression)

"Benefactor, please wait a moment!" His voice carried a compassionate tone. "With the bitter wind and driving rain, and peals of startling thunder, the poor monk truly cannot bear to see you spend such a long, freezing night out in your carriage."

Yet, his expression shifted to one of difficulty. "However, this temple indeed has its hardships..."

Moray’s expression turned one of sudden realization.

"More money?"

The abbot’s old face flushed red. "This is a measure of last resort. Staying overnight at our temple normally costs ten thousand per adult and eight thousand per child, which includes a vegetarian meal and a sightseeing tour. So, you see..."

Seeing Moray casually pull out three Yukichi Fukuzawa banknotes, the old man almost broke decades of ascetic discipline.

Suppressing his elation, with just the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, the abbot summoned a disciple to lead the esteemed guest to his quarters. Naturally, the monk Shunen, known as Hirai Kitagawa, volunteered.

"This right here is the room where the monk Chunen committed suicide," Kitagawa whispered. "This is the reflection room. It is where monks who have violated the precepts go to reflect."

"The walls are towering on all sides, smooth with no footholds. There is a small window near the top for light and ventilation, right beside a crossbeam that one could easily climb up to. However, the dust on the beam is very thick; if anyone had stepped on it or hung a rope, there would inevitably be marks." He looked up. "Monk Chunen hanged himself on that beam, several meters high. Aside from the scratches from the rope, there isn't a single trace on the beam."

"So some people say it was the work of the Tengu of the Fog?"

"Mm." Kitagawa wanted to say more, but hearing approaching footsteps outside the door, he hurriedly fell silent.

"Guest? Shunen?" Entering from outside were two other disciples, Shunen and Mokunen.

"Shunen, how could you bring a guest to a place like this?" Mokunen frowned. "Pardon me, this is our sect's reflection room, there is nothing to see here. Please forgive us for this unseemly display, and I must ask you to..."

"There," Moray pointed at a corner of the wall. "Why is the color of the wall different?"

Mokunen's eyes flickered slightly. "This..."

Shunen, who had entered the temple less than a year ago, smiled. "I heard that when Senior Brother Chunen died back then, a huge hole was broken into this wall. Senior Brother Mokunen was the one who repaired it."

"Yet this wall is exceptionally thick; it's hard to imagine what kind of thing could possibly break through it." He sighed with emotion. "Perhaps it really was the legendary Tengu of the Fog..."

"Shunen!" Mokunen glared furiously. "...Enough."

He bowed to Moray. "Apologies, guest, for making you witness such an unseemly scene."

He led everyone out of the reflection room.

"Over here is the temple's famous waterfall..."

"Over here is our temple's Hall of the Revered King. Isn't it wonderful? Whenever you happen to plan a funeral, you are welcome to come to our temple... Just kidding."

"Over here is..."

Moray followed the monks on a tour around the temple.

Taking advantage of the monks' attention being elsewhere, he exchanged a glance with Kitagawa.

Any new discoveries? Kitagawa cast a puzzled look.

Not yet. Moray shook his head. Let's see what information can be coaxed out later.

Soon it was dinner time. The monk Tunnen, who possessed great culinary skills, had prepared the vegetarian meal, and the handsome senior martial brother, Kuonen, came to notify everyone. The monks led Moray to the dining hall, and Abbot Ten'ei himself welcomed him to his seat with a beaming smile.

During the meal, Moray put down his chopsticks and smacked his lips, wearing an expression of unfulfilled desire.

"Abbot," he said with an earnest look. "I wonder if there is any alcohol in this temple?"

The monks wore troubled expressions.

Senior Brother Kuonen explained, "Mr. Moray, coming from Europe, you might not know. Some Japanese monks are allowed to drink alcohol, while others are not. The monks of this temple must observe the precepts and are not permitted to drink..."

"That means adding more money, right?"

Moray raised an eyebrow and slapped a Yukichi Fukuzawa banknote onto the table.

The abbot swallowed hard.

"My senior brother isn't lying to you," Tunnen said, looking somewhat troubled by the money on the table. "No one in our temple drinks alcohol. This is a pure and sacred Buddhist ground, and we cannot let a guest..."

Moray was speechless. During his covert investigations, Kitagawa had frequently seen the abbot sneaking a few small drinks at night.

The old man was cautious; though he loved wine, miraculously he never got drunk, only sipping modestly.

His senior brother had told him that in his younger days, the master also often got heavily drunk. However, he had a bad habit: once drunk, he couldn't keep secrets and would blurt out anything. Even so, he could never break the habit, often proudly proclaiming, "This poor monk is open and honest; there is not a single thing in this life that cannot be shown to others!"

Yet two years ago, he had started abstaining from alcohol.

However, the old monk's greed for wealth exceeded his resolve to abstain from alcohol by many folds. Moray's Plan A was to let his love for wealth overpower his vow of abstinence, forcing him to spill the truth.

"Cough, cough-cough, cough-cough-cough!" The abbot kept signaling frantically.

"Indeed, we... Abbot, what is wrong with you?" Mokunen asked with concern, noticing the abbot's peculiar complexion.

A bunch of fools! Abbot Ten'ei muttered inwardly.

At that moment, he noticed Shunen, the newest addition to the temple, exchanging a glance with him, wearing a look of sudden realization.

He suddenly stepped forward, knelt before Abbot Ten'ei, and said guiltily, "This disciple has sinned!"

"Even after taking monastic vows, this disciple still clung to worldly attachments and secretly hid some fine wine in his room. I beg the abbot to forgive me!"

"This..." Only then did the abbot put on a troubled expression. "Very well, a sincere repentance makes a good child. Come here."

He beckoned, and the monk Shunen came before him, lowering his head.

The abbot patted his head with his palm and whispered, "In my room, the usual spot, bring just one bottle!"

Then, he said loudly, "Forgive this unseemly display, Benefactor Moray. This child still has an unopened bottle of fine wine, which cannot be kept in this pure Buddhist sanctuary anyway. I have sent him to fetch it. Coincidentally, I find that you share a deep affinity with our temple... Ahem, the money is secondary..."

"The important thing is the yen, right?" Moray smiled.

"Precisely, precisely!" The abbot laughed. The child Shunen truly had a root of wisdom!

Before long, Kitagawa returned carrying a bottle of wine. When handing the bottle to Moray, Moray gave him a subtle wink.

After that, Moray began to pour and drink by himself.

Seeing this, Kitagawa timely opened his mouth to ask, "Benefactor Moray, didn't you mention before that a monastery in France was being renovated and a prayer room was partially funded by you?"

Of course it was a lie. This had all been scripted and acted out between Kitagawa and Moray beforehand.

Moray played along, looking thoroughly pleased as he nodded and said, "I personally place great importance on the preservation of these cultural heritages."

"Regardless of religion, whether Christian or Muslim, I have donated toward the maintenance of ancient architecture."

"Ha-ha, funny you should mention that," the abbot chimed in, attempting to muscle into the conversation. "Our temple also has a history stretching back hundreds of years..."

Moray was noncommittal, sighed, and shifted the topic. "Drinking alone always feels rather pointless."

"When the monastery was being renovated back then, Bishop Ossard's bottle of Château Margaux red wine left a deep impression on me."

"That was secondary, though; his eloquent speech and profound knowledge were precisely what made up my mind to donate. Because I knew that such a person was worth supporting."

Looking somewhat intoxicated now, Moray said loudly, "Later, when traveling to Mecca, I met a man who claimed to be a prophet, named Nubodun."

"His craft-fermented wheat fruit juice—which might be called beer in Japan—was quite good, and he himself was very interesting."

Hearing this, the abbot secretly signaled Kitagawa with his eyes, but unexpectedly, Kitagawa lowered his head and played the ostrich this time.

He looked around at his other four disciples, all of whom secretly shook their heads.

So be it, the abbot sighed inwardly; he knew full well that these four couldn't hold their liquor to begin with.

It seemed that for the future of the temple, this poor monk had no choice but to step up!