Abbot Fuxian didn't ask any more questions. He just pushed the piece of paper to Han Changmu's hand and said solemnly: "This is a new prescription prepared by me. I originally planned to send it back to the palace in the near future. Since I saw the prince today, I won't use it." Don’t worry about it, the people in the hands of the prince are definitely faster than the postmen."
Han Changmu opened it and read it again, and thanked him repeatedly with a moved face: "My concubine has been ill for so many years. Thanks to the master's prescription, her condition can be stabilized. Master Han's kindness will never be forgotten."
Abbot Fuxian waved his hand: "It's not a big deal, Your Majesty, don't worry about it."
Listening to these words, Yao Yao raised his eyebrows. It turned out that Princess Han had been sick all year round. In this era, there was a lack of medical treatment and medicine, and a cold could kill her. No wonder Han Changmu became worried when he mentioned Princess Han's illness.
The three of them were silent, and Zhishan suddenly exclaimed: "Sir, this is wrong. The directory is all about Buddhism, and there is no such book."
When the three of them heard this, they all put down their bamboo chopsticks and came over. They saw Zhishan flipping through the fragments of the book, with a puzzled look on his face, but his words were firm: "My lord, I have finished reading this book. This book is not in the directory."
Abbot Fuxian frowned slightly, twirling the beads on his wrist, his kind-faced face darkened: "Show it to me."
He flipped through the pages very quickly, and finally closed the directory, looked at Han Changmu and said solemnly: "Your Majesty, I can also see clearly that there are many rare scriptures in this directory, but this Buddhist formation, But there isn’t even one.”
Han Changmu didn't look good either. He thought he could find out something at Jianfu Temple, but in the end it was all in vain.
He fingered the roster unwillingly and asked reluctantly: "There should be records of all the monks' comings and goings in the temple."
Abbot Fuxian's eyes lit up and he repeatedly ordered: "Go, Zhishan, quickly go and get the list of monks from the temple."
Zhishan rushed out like a gust of wind, and the door opened and closed with a loud bang.
A ray of bright sunshine outside had just entered the quiet room, but was blocked by the door that was closed heavily.
Yao Yao, who had been silent all this time, narrowed his eyes and suddenly said: "Sir, could this fragment be from a certain scripture that was dug out by someone, or maybe it wasn't donated by Jianfu Temple at all? Did Secretary Lang remember it wrongly in the approval book?" Her eyes were deep, and she judged people's hearts with the utmost evil: "Or, someone is simply misleading us and doesn't want us to find out the true origin of this book."
Han Changmu rubbed his brows, his voice was rusty and a little tired, but he hid his twinkling eyes: "It is also possible, but let's see what we can find out about the whereabouts of the monks in the temple first."
Not long after, Zhishan and four young novice monks walked into the quiet room carrying thick stacks of booklets.
Zhishan waved the young novice to go out, closed the door, and then said cautiously: "Abbott, sir, I have brought the list of all the monks in the temple in the past twenty years."
Jianfuji Temple is a royal temple with thousands of monks in its heyday. Even when the war broke out more than ten years ago and the temple was in depression, there were still hundreds of monks. With so many monks, and accumulated over decades, the number of monks in this list is naturally astonishing. .
Han Changmu looked at the astonishing roster, which was full of gray floating points. He raised his chin and said in a deep voice: "Yao Canjun, you and Zhishan will check it out together. If you encounter a suspicious person, give him his name and experience." Sing it and I’ll record it.”
Yao Yao nodded reluctantly, took a deep breath, and looked at the list of names that filled half a quiet room. Her scalp felt numb and her legs felt weak. In her two lifetimes combined, she had never seen anything like this. Lots of words.
Moreover, all the writings in this dynasty were traditional Chinese characters, and it took her a while to recognize the common characters. There were some characters in these rosters that were difficult to write and read, and the dharma titles were so uncommon that if they were shown on the roll call, If you are timid, you will never be able to stand up in front of Han Changmu in this life.
She tremblingly picked up the top book, wiped off the dust on the roster with shaking hands, took a quick look, and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. The words "Daliao Register 1" were written on it.
She knew all these four words and knew what they meant, so she was off to a great start.
The dormitory is the kitchen, so this pile is the roster of monks in the kitchen. It seems that the roster of monks in Jianfu Temple is very similar to the roster of her previous work unit, which is recorded according to job departments.
She turned around and said first: "Sir, let's take a look at the roster of the Sutra Pavilion first."
First define a small range. The smaller the range, the smaller the chance of encountering unknown words.
Han Changmu also had this intention. He nodded, looked at Zhishan and said, "Master Zhishan, could you please look for the roster of the Sutra Pavilion."
Zhishan's hands and feet were very nimble and he was very familiar with these rosters. He quickly found the roster of the Sutra Pavilion. There was already a thick layer of dust on it. He took it outside the door and patted it clean. Got it back again.
Han Changmu looked at the half-person tall list and asked calmly: "Master Zhishan, does he still remember the names of the three monks in the Sutra Pavilion?"
Zhishan tilted his head and thought hard for a long time, then hesitantly said: "One is called Liaoqing, one is called Jueming, and there is another one. I really can't remember it."
Han Changmu was stunned when he heard the word "ming". The abbot of Qinglong Temple is called Jueming.
His face suddenly turned gloomy, and he had a vague suspicion in his heart, but he still needed to confirm one thing, so he did not publicize this suspicion. He just said expressionlessly: "Check it out first."
Yao Yao heard a hint of coldness in Han Changmu's words, and was immediately startled. He didn't dare to slack off for a moment, and started to turn heads with Zhishan.
Time passed very quickly, and the sun had already turned to the west. The sunlight was splashing on the edge of peak and decline, and suddenly became brighter, as if it wanted to condense the whole day's light into this moment.
Bright sunlight came in through the window, and Han Changmu sat against the light, his expressionless face looking extremely cold.
Not long after, Yao Yao raised his head from the mountain of books, with a thin layer of dust on his nose and face, and read out in a rapid voice: "Jueming, a native of Ganzhou, Hexi, was born in March of the first year of Jianning, ten years after Jianning." After failing the exam for six years, he was ordained at Jianfu Temple that year. In the 21st year of Jianning, he was appointed as Zhizang. In the second year of Yongan, he was appointed as the abbot of Qinglong Temple."
The more Han Changmu listened, the more frightened he became. His forehead was twitching. It was obvious that he was so prudent and submissive, but he hid it so deeply. He even became a Zhizang in Jianfu Temple at the age of twenty-one. After staying in the Tibetan Scripture Pavilion for sixteen years, I could no longer do any of my hands or feet, and any traces of it could be erased.
Thinking of Jueming's harmless white, round face, Han Changmu's eyes brightened, as if he had parted through the clouds and mist, and saw a little bit of faint light. Although it was very weak, it still illuminated the dark cracks.
He stood up suddenly, uttered the word "go" sharply, and hurried out of the door.
Yao Yao sighed, rolled up the scriptures and tucked them under the creaking nest. He hugged the list of donated books and the remaining copies tightly, thanked Abbot Fuxian and Zhishan, and followed them.
There was no light in the quiet room, and it was dim. Suddenly the door opened, and the slanting sun's shadow shone on his face. Yao Yao used a hand to cover his eyes. After getting used to the light, he ran after him.
The door of the prison of the Department of Internal Security opened slowly, and creaking sounds were heard in the dusk. The cold sound added a bit of sadness to this deep place.
A short guard carried two food boxes, bent down and entered the prison door, walked along the downward steps to the end, shouted loudly to eat, took out the meal from the food box, stuffed Go into the small open window.
Except for the extremely vicious prisoners who refused to open their mouths until death, the Department of Internal Health rarely bothered people with food. They always had meat, vegetables and rice, and kept them warm and full.
There were not many prisoners held by the Internal Security Department at the moment. The cells next to the door contained four monks from Qinglong Temple. Further inside were a group of people from Sese Tower, and the unlucky Huo Hanshan at the end.
This number of prisoners is the smallest in the history of the Department of Internal Health. The cooks who specialize in cooking for the prisoners are almost turning moldy from idleness. They talk about how lucky they are that their monthly salary is not based on how much they cook, otherwise they would have to So poor.
The meals served in the Department of Internal Health Prison do not have bamboo chopsticks. Instead, they use special bowls and spoons, which can be smashed repeatedly to prevent prisoners from using these to commit suicide.
Therefore, the guards did not have to watch the prisoners clean up their bowls and spoons after eating. They could just stuff the food into the cell, eat it if they liked it or not, close the small window, and then slowly walk out, waiting to collect the next meal.
Han and Changmu came out from Jianfu Temple. They thought the carriage was too slow, so they took two fast horses from the temple, whipped them all the way, and rode straight down the street to the Internal Guards Department.
When he arrived at the door, Han Changmu threw off the reins and rushed into the prison with a sullen face and without saying a word.
Just as he walked down the steps, a shrill scream came from the cell near the door. The sound was so straight and sharp that it really hurt the eardrums.
Han Changmu paused, feeling ominous. He rushed outside the cell and slapped a brick on the wall hard.
The brick looked no different from the bricks next to it, but when he dropped his hand heavily, the brick dented, and the wall that was tightly connected in front of it silently opened a crack.
Yao Yao was startled by the scream, and was startled again when he saw this scene. He followed Han Changmu into the cell, and saw a novice monk holding an old monk. The scream was coming from the novice monk's throat. It comes from inside.
The old monk's face was pale, but strangely, there was a cloud of black energy lingering above him. Two lines of black and purple blood flowed from the corners of his eyes, nostrils and mouth. The blood flowing from his ears had spread to his light gray monk's clothes and was stained. A large area opened.
The old monk's chest was rising and falling very weakly, indicating that there was more air coming out and less air coming in.
Han Changmu rushed forward in a few steps, quickly took out a porcelain bottle, knocked out a pill and stuffed it into the old monk's mouth.
Yao Yao stood nearby and shook his head slightly. He looked like he was poisoned and might be difficult to save.
