Chapter 72
“Abbot, Xiao Jingxi secretly threw a note to the female guest.”
As soon as Shen Yanqing’s words landed, Xiao Jingxi’s expression visibly turned to panic. He instinctively wanted to explain, but the sharp gazes of the three people sitting above had already locked onto him.
[You brat!]
[Case closed—Mr. Shen does charity work to accumulate merit for himself, because he’s way too lacking in virtue.]
[Old Shen’s tattling just now made me laugh till I spat—he’s three years old, no more.]
[Why does Shen Yanqing always target Jingxi? Is it jealousy?]
[Lol upstairs—you mean Mr. Shen’s jealous that he’s shorter, or jealous that he’s poorer?]
The abbot bent down to pick up the fallen note.
When he opened it and saw the contents, his expression froze. After hesitating, he read it aloud, “Xie Mi, let’s play Red Light, Green Light. Ah, I lost… because my heart moved.”
“Damn!”
Across from him, Xie Mi clutched her chest in mock agony, baring her teeth, “Bro, you’re an oil field! Director Niu, does this count as workplace harassment?”
The others also couldn’t hold back their laughter.
Xiao Jingxi’s face flushed slightly. He hurried to explain, “That wasn’t me who wrote it.”
“Oh, but I saw it.”
Beside him, Shen Yanqing lazily propped his chin on one hand, his dark eyes filled with playful amusement, “So the great Film Emperor Xiao Jingxi can lie too~”
That taunting tone.
The corner of Xiao Jingxi’s mouth twitched. “This note wasn’t mine, I swear!”
“Oh? Then which one was yours?”
“…”
Perfect. He’d taken the bait.
At that moment, two looming shadows fell over his head.
Xiao Jingxi’s body stiffened. He slowly raised his eyes to find Monk Man-slayer and Monk Women-slayer standing to his left and right—like the Black and White Impermanence of the underworld, here to claim his life.
“You said this wasn’t yours,” Monk Man-slayer asked coldly, “then what exactly was on the one you did write?”
Xiao Jingxi fell silent.
After several seconds, he grit his teeth, “N… no… I wrote this one.”
The words had barely left his mouth when he felt Shen Yanqing’s mocking gaze sear into him. The humiliation nearly made him grind his molars to dust.
The Monk Man-slayer sneered.
“You knew full well the temple’s rules, yet you dared to secretly write a love letter to a female guest. Looks like you’re ready for punishment.”
A sudden realization flashed across Xiao Jingxi’s face, “Wait, wai—”
“Rabbit Strike!”
The ever-unpredictable male monk appeared again, giving Xiao Jingxi a swift kick that sent him flying out of the meditation hall. A familiar scream soon echoed outside.
To preserve some dignity for the film emperor—and because the footage really wasn’t suitable to air—the cameramen didn’t follow.
Still, everyone knew what had happened.
[We still don’t know what Xiao Jingxi really wrote on that note.]
[Since he won’t admit it, that means it was even more explosive than Shen Yanqing’s tacky pickup line.]
[Am I the only one concerned about whether Xiao Jingxi really got stabbed in the butt? That’s the Film Emperor! Is he okay?]
[He’ll be fine. The Film Emperor doesn’t need his butt to act.]
After meditation ended, Shen Yanqing tore up the note that said:
[Xie Mi, after tonight’s recording, I’ll wait for you at the rear hall. Let’s talk.]
Then tossed the scraps into the trash.
But the guests’ suffering was far from over.
After the mind-numbingly dull meditation that left their legs numb, lunch turned out to be plain vegetarian fare: greens, tofu, and giant steamed buns.
They tried to protest to the production team, but the staff solemnly declared that this was exactly the temple’s normal diet. Objections denied.
So the guests gnawed on steamed buns, then returned to their rooms for a midday rest. Even those unaccustomed to naps were forced to lie down with eyes closed, since phones were confiscated.
In the afternoon: labor duty.
Each person was assigned a task.
Xu Shuangrong and Liu Woxing: weed and water the flowers in the back courtyard.
Lai Bingxuan and Xie Mi: fertilize and de-bug the vegetable patch in the front yard.
Qiu Chengye and Xiao Jingxi, the unlucky brothers: fetch fertilizer from the cesspit behind the temple.
Shen Yanqing and Yu Jinzhe: receive visitors at the front hall.
“Wait—say that again? What’s my task?” Qiu Chengye’s lips twitched.
After the morning ordeal, his backside was still aching. He couldn’t even stand without his legs trembling, much less put them together.
Xiao Jingxi, equally battered, was no better off, though he stubbornly forced himself to stand tall as if nothing was wrong, sweat beading on his forehead.
Monk Man-slayer glanced at them coolly. “Carrying manure.”
“I’ve had it up to here!”
Qiu Chengye roared, slamming the carrying pole to the ground. He jabbed a finger toward the crew behind the camera, “I quit! Get someone to take me out of here right now! I won’t stay in this hellhole another damn day! Screw this!”
Director Niu remained firm, “Mr. Qiu, you signed a contract before recording. Guests must unconditionally obey the production’s arrangements. Leaving midway is not allowed.”
“Screw you! I said I quit and I mean it!”
Ripping off his monk’s robe, Qiu Chengye bolted while howling at the top of his lungs. The crew lunged to stop him but couldn’t hold him back—he was as stubborn as a bull.
[Congrats, we’ve got a male guest driven insane.]
[Excuse me, is this “Metamorphosis” or a dating show?]
[Next episode: Qiu Chengye defies the crew and runs away. The whole team searches, finally finds him, and he breaks down crying while hugging a monk.]
[Lol, you get it.]
Sure enough, Qiu Chengye went screaming and stumbling down the mountain. The production staff were dumbstruck, then scrambled after him. A full-on chase began.
Director Niu, however, showed no panic—as if he’d seen it coming.
When he arranged this devil’s schedule, he’d already anticipated a breakdown.
The more despair they felt, the more they would appreciate the sweetness of an ordinary dating show.
“Monk Man-slayer, we’ll bring Teacher Qiu back. Please continue with the others,” Director Niu said.
The monk finally turned back to the remaining seven guests.
“You may begin your labor.”
Xiao Jingxi: “?”
He’d already been miserable about carrying manure. Now that Qiu Chengye had run off, did this mean he had to do it alone?
Sensing his doubtful look, the monk delivered the fatal blow with a nod, “Don’t doubt it—you’ll do it alone.”
Xie Mi laughed gloatingly beside him.
But then the monk added, “Hurry and take it to the vegetable garden. They’re waiting for fertilizer.”
Xie Mi: “…Great.”
So the manure had to pass through her hands too.
The four pairs set out on their assigned tasks. Xiao Jingxi’s trembling figure, forcing himself to carry the pole, looked especially pitiful.
[Fake victim: Qiu Chengye. Real victim: Xiao Jingxi.]
[Xiao Jingxi: I really can’t with this.]
