Bone Painting Coroner (Web Novel CN)-Chapter 711: Sheltering in Guang'an Temple

After Lang Po left, Jing Rong heaved another sigh and walked out the room to stand under the eaves.

Someone had hung up several red lanterns outside. The reddish light fell onto his sharply defined profile, giving him a slight rosy cast and making him look a little less severe and a little more indolent.

Suddenly, he tilted his gaze up and asked in the direction of the roof. “How long have you been here?”

Mo Ruo sprawled lazily on the roof, one hand on the raised decorative edge of the roof, a pot of wine dangling from his other hand.

When he heard the question, he quirked his lips and took a swig of wine, answering languidly, “I’ve been here since you were talking about the late Emperor’s edict.”

So he had heard what Lang Po said about not finding Wei Yi. Jing Rong narrowed his eyes. “Why did you come here?”

Mo Ruo sighed. “The Marquis’s estate is full of people everywhere. It’s so noisy. Only your side is quiet so I came here to hide.”

Jing Rong had nothing to say to that, and stopped asking.

Mo Ruo was relishing his wine. He shook his pot of wine and directed a question downwards. “This is top quality aged wine from the Marquis’s estate. Do you want some? It’s delicious.”

“You probably stole it, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean stole? Good wine goes with idle people. I took it, I didn’t steal it. You phrased it wrongly.”

“Mere sophistry.”

“Sophistry? I don’t like that word either. What I said was the philosophy of the ancients; every word is like gold.”

Jing Rong smiled wryly. Although he couldn’t see Mo Ruo’s self-righteous expression, he could clearly imagine how comical and amusing it was. He shook his head helplessly and ignored him.

After a while, Mo Ruo finished his wine and put the pot down. The tiles of the roof overlapped and weren’t flat to begin with, so the moment the pale cyan wine pot left his hand, it started rolling down the clay tiles of the roof with a series of clinks and clangs.

It looked like it would shatter on the ground, but Jing Rong stretched his hand out and caught it. He tossed it a few times, then gently placed it on the ground.

A loud chortle rang out from above his head. “That’s hilarious!”

Hilarious your head! Jing Rond dearly wished he could throw that wine pot at the drunkard and smash his head open. But on second thought, he reined in that impulse.

Unexpectedly, another taunt was thrown down at him. “How scary~” He let out another peal of laughter.

Jing Rong continued to endure it. He was in no mood to entertain this nonsense. Otherwise, that drunkard up there would have already been turned into a pancake.

Mo Ruo’s laughter continued for a long while before he finally composed himself again. After a moment of silence, he lay back on the roof with all the energy of a lump of mud. Jing Rong thought he had fallen asleep, but Mo Ruo blearily asked another question. “If something really happened to Wei Yi, how are you going to account for it to Teacher Ji? After all, he was only affected by all this because of the struggle between you and Prince Yi.”

Ah! Jing Rong’s expression darkened. He had not expected that Mo Ruo would suddenly say something like this.

There was no reply. He only stood quietly under the awning, his deep, fathomless eyes staring at that swaying lantern in the distance.

Mo Ruo and Jing Rong stayed like that for a long while. One on the roof, the other below. One in a drunken slumber, the other in a brooding silence.

The next day, the carriages were ready to depart at dawn. Marquis Kang was not there to see them off, probably still occupied with reading that bloodstained diary.

The old steward of the estate is very conscientious and added everything they could think of into the carriages, from food to drinks. He bowed in farewell, “Your Highness, take care on your journey.”

“With so many things happening at the estate lately, I’m afraid that the Marquis would not be able to deal with it well. Do take good care of him.”

“Yes. Don’t worry, Your Highness.”

Jing Rong nodded and got into the carriage. And they were off!

The procession of carriage left Jingzhou city and travelled along a stretch of an uneven mountain road. Jing Rong wrapped Ji Yunshu tightly into his embrace, fearing that she would lose her balance and bump against the walls of the carriage. When the carriage finally became more stable, Jing Rong used two fingers to push the curtains aside for a look. They had already passed through the forest and gone onto the public highway. “According to today’s speed, we will reach the foot of Mount Liang in three days.” They weren’t far from the capital now.

Ji Yunshu also pulled back the curtains on the other side and looked behind them.

Lang Po noticed her and rode up to ask, “Teacher Ji, do you have instructions for me?”

“Are Wen Xian and Zhao Huai still following?”

“They’ve been following at the back all along, but kept their distance.”

She hummed in response and drew her head back in without saying anything.

The carriages continued travelling along the public highway for the rest of the day. They were about to reach the foot of Mount Liang, right outside the capital, when the heavens decided to disagree with them and started raining cats and dogs.

Large, pearly drops of rain fell from the skies, drumming on the roofs of the carriages as the skies seemed to split open with rolling booms of thunder and violent sheets of rain that just seemed to increase in vigor.

In just a few moments, the clear blue skies were shrouded in a thick blanket of dark and gloomy grey clouds. In such terrible weather, it was difficult for them to continue travelling. Fortunately, Guang’an Temple was nearby. Since it sat within the mountains, it wasn’t famous but it still flourished.

Thus, Jing Rong ordered the procession to divert their route towards the temple so they could seek shelter from the rain and continue after it stopped.

The bedraggled and drenched party reached the temple, but found that the doors of the temple were shut tightly.

The signboard for Guang’an Temple was simply a painted piece of wood with the three characters for ‘Guang’an Temple’ burned onto it.

Lang Po dismounted and knocked on the doors.

After a long wait, the large red-painted doors finally creaked open slowly but stopped after a small gap was created. The gleaming black eyes of a little monk peered out warily at Lang Po. When he looked at his fearsome features and the sword in his hand, he startled and closed the gap in the door a little. “This benefactor is…?”

“Little monk, don’t be scared. We were passing by and wished to take shelter in the temple from the pouring rain outside. We will leave once the rain stops.”

“This…” The little monk didn’t have the authority to make decisions. “Wait here. This monk will inform the abbot.” He quickly closed the doors and ran off.

Lang Po was bewildered. He turned to the guard beside him, “Aren’t the temple monks supposed to have the benevolence of Bodhisattva? Shouldn’t they let us in immediately with such a terrible downpour outside? Why does he need to ask for permission? If this were the battlefield, with enemy troops on our tail, would the city head have to approve before the doors are opened to allow the troops to withdraw into the city? If that were the case, I’d wager we’d be dead.” Bro, your analogy is a little far-fetched.

The guard smiled and patted his shoulder. “I think the little monk was scared silly by you.”

“Do I look like I would eat people?”

“Guard Lang, you really should take a good look into the mirror.” After a short bout of snarky verbal punches between the two of them, the main doors to the temple were finally opened.

The little monk from before pushed the doors fully open. He put his palms together in greeting. “Amithaba, the abbot said that we are all family and should share weal and woe. Everyone, please come into the temple to shelter from the rain. This rain isn’t going to stop anytime soon, so we’ve arranged a few meditation rooms for you benefactors to spend the night.”

How kind of your abbot! Lang Po cupped his hands in greeting around his sword. “Many thanks, Little Monk.”

“Amithaba.”