After a short while, the hall's door creaked open.

Ruyi walked out from inside.

But before he could speak, Feng Rugu laughed loudly: "Where did I get a disciple from? Junior Sister Yan, you're joking with me again."

Sang Luojiu coughed lightly and explained softly to Ruyi: "Sir, I apologize, my master is probably drunk and mistook the door."

Having said that, he pinched his throat, and his clear young voice turned into an androgynous soft tone: "Junior brother, Master is waiting for you inside the hall and is getting impatient."

Feng Rugu swallowed: "Is Master's wife not there?"

"She is. Master's wife is waiting to go down the mountain with Master. If you're late, she'll get angry too."

Feng Rugu shuddered and reached out to get up: "Quickly, quickly, I'll go right away."

Who would have thought, he was already dizzy, and got up too hastily. His legs went soft and he staggered, about to fall backwards.

Ruyi reacted swiftly, catching his back with one palm, then flipping his palm over and gently pushing him into Sang Luojiu's arms.

Sang Luojiu steadily caught him and said very politely: "It's so late, sorry to disturb you, sir. Please rest early."

He supported Feng Rugu and returned to the main hall.

Ruyi similarly returned to the hall.

Hai Jing patted his chest and muttered: "Fortunately Lord Yunzhong is drunk."

Ruyi did not speak, his usually cold expression looking even a bit regretful.

Gossip behind one's back and speaking falsehoods are all verbal misdeeds, a major taboo in Buddhism.

But Feng Rugu's konghou music was really too similar to the lullaby his adoptive father used to play for him when he had difficulty falling asleep, making it impossible for him not to care.

Perhaps no one would think that, separated by a decade, one person could still remember another person's konghou tones, fingering techniques, as clearly as yesterday.

Back then, his adoptive father taught him hand in hand to learn gongchi notation, recognize the beats, identify the modes, occasionally scolding him for being dumb, but mostly praising him for being smart.

Ruyi thought that he regarded his adoptive father as his only one, and his adoptive father was the same.

...But his adoptive father had taught Feng Rugu's konghou so well that it sounded almost like it was played by the same person.

The more wonderful the music became, the more Hai Jing praised, and the more Ruyi felt his heart burning, becoming restless and agitated, leading to his earlier improper words.

Ever since encountering Feng Rugu, Ruyi felt that he had lost his composure many times and needed to discipline himself.

Ruyi closed his eyes for a while, making up his mind. He picked up a small red sandalwood bead, placed it in his mouth, and took out a wooden plaque with the words "Silent" from his personal belongings, hanging it at his waist.

Seeing this scene, Hai Jing was shocked: "Junior Martial Uncle?"

Ruyi pointed at the wooden plaque, then at his mouth, shaking his head, and immediately continued to meditate intently.

In addition to being surprised, Hai Jing also felt several degrees of respect.

Junior Martial Uncle was strict with others and with himself. Since he had committed a verbal misdeed, he would practice a vow of silence to reflect on it.

One should know that according to the rules of Hanshan Temple, placing a small red sandalwood bead in one's mouth meant a full month of silence.

As for Ruyi, with the red sandalwood in his mouth, his mind finally calmed down a bit.

However, the lingering sound of the konghou still echoed in his ears, disturbing the strings of his heart from time to time.

...

As soon as the main hall's door closed, the "drunk" Feng Rugu left Sang Luojiu's support and stood up straight.

"The little monk has good ears." Feng Rugu took off his outer robe. "I indeed had a renowned konghou master instructing me."

Sang Luojiu didn't seem surprised that "Master wasn't drunk". Standing behind him, he helped him undress, hanging the outer garment and jade belt separately, in an orderly manner: "Yes, Master's konghou playing is very good. It's just that he never teaches his disciples."

Feng Rugu said: "I'm not a konghou master, why would I teach you all that."

Sang Luojiu smiled in response: "Mm."

Feng Rugu boasted shamelessly: "The greatest achievement I've made as your master is not dragging you down."

Sang Luojiu fell silent.

Feng Rugu turned his head to look at him: "Luojiu, just now, you heard their discussion and deliberately spoke up, right?"

Sang Luojiu raised his bright eyes, not denying it either, and smiled obediently: "Master, this disciple knows his mistake."

Feng Rugu also had no intention of reprimanding him: "Not bad, you even knew to cooperate with me. It's just that using Master's wife to scare me was really too mean. You don't know that I fear her the most."

Sang Luojiu took two steps back, smiling gently: "It was Luojiu's unintentional mistake, please forgive me, Master. It's getting late, Master should retire early."

Feng Rugu waved his hand, undressing himself.

Standing in the courtyard, Sang Luojiu turned his head to look at the side hall, lost in thought for a moment.

Just now in the hall, he didn't ask silly questions like "Does Master value Master Ruyi a lot?"

Master pretended to be drunk just to avoid embarrassing the guest.

Master had never been so considerate to anyone before.

...Why was that?

Sang Luojiu had been clever since childhood, but he simply couldn't see through the layers of mystery shrouding his master.

In the end, he stopped thinking too much. He turned around and entered the night, going to find his foolish senior brother.

And perhaps it was because of little monk Hai Jing's words "instructed by a renowned master", or the mention of the Master's wife whom all three disciples feared, tonight, Feng Rugu dreamed of his childhood.

A luxurious mansion was enclosed by red walls and glazed tiles stretching for ten li. Outside the courtyard were a hundred mu of bamboo forest, inside the courtyard a lotus pond with emerald reflections. In the distance was a small mountain that would don a small, shining silver crown when it snowed in winter.

This was Feng Rugu's childhood home.

The Feng family was in Jiangnan, starting out selling medicine. As merchants for three generations, they reached their peak in the generation of Feng Rugu's father, Feng Mingyi. Doing business with benevolence, their business prospered, the fragrance of medicine extending through half the city. No one dared to look down on them.

His parents invited the most famous konghou teacher in Jiangnan to instruct their only son Feng Rugu's in konghou skills.

He was born with long arms and legs, and slender fingers. When he embraced the konghou and played ding ding dong dong, his mother would lean on the embroidered couch, book in hand, gazing at him tenderly.

Feng Rugu had a lively personality, and the house was big enough for him to play in, so he would always run around gleefully after finishing his homework.

He liked to walk step by step under the red walls, using his small steps to measure how long his family's walls were.

The old nanny moved with small steps, calling to him from afar: "Young Master, don't fall."

The old nanny had taken care of him since he was young. With her protection, Feng Rugu had never gotten hurt from falling.

She called out: "The watermelon has been hoisted out of the well and cooled. Come eat quickly."

Feng Rugu ran back and tugged on the nanny's clothes, acting spoiled: "I want to eat lychees."

The nanny rubbed his head helplessly: "Ancestor, you just ate some last night, aren't you afraid of getting inflamed?"

"But Nanny didn't even get to eat any."

"How could servants afford to eat such a precious thing? If the Master and Madam saw, it would be terrible."

Feng Rugu looked around, took out a fresh lychee with a red shell from his pocket, and said, "Then I'll give Grandma a break!"

With that, he winked mischievously at the old lady.

At such a young age, he already had the makings of a dashing young gentleman.

Logically speaking, Feng Rugu would never enter the immortal path in his lifetime.

He would spend his entire life as a wealthy young master within the red walls, taking over his father's pharmacy and vast estate. If he didn't have too much ambition, he could live a carefree and unrestrained life playing the konghou and listening to the pipa.

That year, there was a great drought in Guanzhong. The people were starving and began to eat each other.

Starving refugees poured into the south in large numbers.

One day, the konghou teacher failed to come to give lessons. Madam Feng sent someone to inquire, and the news came back that he had injured his leg. The refugees were begging in the city, and when his sedan chair passed by, the refugees blocked the way. The young men carrying the sedan chair said a few unkind words, and a fight broke out. The konghou teacher fell out of the sedan chair and was injured.

Upon receiving the news, Madam Feng sighed a few words about the difficulties of the famine years, sealed a red envelope, and asked the courtyard attendant to send it over, telling him to recuperate well.

The prefect was also worried. The city's granary had already been opened once and was in a tight spot. The relief funds and grain from above were still on the way. Refusing the refugees outside would be inhumane, but allowing the refugees to pour in would also pose a great threat to the security of the prefecture.

Left with no choice, the prefect summoned the wealthy merchants in the city, and his intention was very clear. He wanted these merchants to provide funds to tide them over before the relief supplies arrived.

Feng Mingyi, who had been influenced by Confucian teachings since childhood and valued benevolence and righteousness, agreed to use his own money to release grain and set up a porridge kitchen before the prefect even made it clear.

The Feng family's estate was located on the outskirts of the city, and the open space in front of the estate could be used to set up a porridge kitchen, cooking porridge day and night and distributing it at any time. A medical tent could also be set up to prevent and treat diseases and prevent refugees from bringing epidemics into the city.

The prefect was overjoyed and immediately approved the plan.

On the day the porridge kitchen opened, Feng Mingyi brought his young son to witness the scene. Seeing the refugees rushing to receive food, he felt greatly relieved.

He pointed to the crowd and said, "Rugu, if you inherit the Feng family's mantle in the future, you must remember to prioritize benevolence and virtue. This is the cultivation of being a person, the compassion of being a physician, and the righteousness of being wealthy."

Nine-year-old Feng Rugu looked at the crowd and tilted his head in confusion, "Father, how many days will this porridge kitchen be set up for?"

"Until the court's relief supplies arrive."

Feng Rugu spoke with an air of importance, "Then, forgive me for being blunt, Father, but the rice you're giving them is too good."

Feng Mingyi only wanted to use real examples to teach his son to do more good deeds. He didn't expect his son to have another set of lofty opinions, so he squatted down and listened patiently, "Why do you say that, Rugu?"

"The court's relief grain is meant to appease the people and curb rebellion, so the quantity must be large, and the quality will certainly not be too good. If Father gives them fine rice and grain first, then when the court's relief grain arrives, they will only be able to eat second-rate food, which will instead give rise to resentment."

Feng Mingyi was stunned. He felt there was some truth to these words, but he still smiled on the surface, "Rugu, how can you think so badly of people's hearts?"

Feng Rugu said, "Perhaps people's hearts are not inherently bad, but they just haven't encountered the opportunity to turn bad."

When these words came out, Feng Mingyi felt that something was amiss.

His son's perception of worldly affairs... seemed to be a bit too extreme?

Obviously, he and his younger self read the same books of sages and virtuous men, so how could...

Feng Rugu didn't know his father's complex feelings at this moment. He craned his neck to look around and inadvertently spotted two strange refugees in the crowd.

The two of them were tall and sturdy, wearing the same tattered clothes, but they were not eager to line up for food. They leaned against a thick bamboo and looked in the direction of the Feng family's estate.

When refugees passed by them, they would obediently hand over half a steamed bun or half a bowl of porridge.

...Were they the leaders among the refugees?

For some reason, Feng Rugu felt uncomfortable being stared at by their appraising eyes. He turned his face away and tugged tightly on his father's hand, "Father, do you really intend to only distribute food and not receive any payment?"

Hearing this, Feng Mingyi was a little displeased, "What payment?"

"Wouldn't it be better to have them work in exchange for food?"

"They are starving and exhausted, so where would they find the strength to work?" Feng Mingyi stared intently into his son's eyes, "Rugu, are you unwilling to give alms?"

"It's not that I'm unwilling. It's inappropriate." Feng Rugu said seriously, "Father is distributing food for free out of benevolence, but it also cuts off their thoughts of finding their own way to make a living. If it were me, if I could lie down and receive food and medicine every day, I would also lack motivation."

After a lesson of teaching by example, Feng Mingyi took Feng Rugu home with a heavy heart, reflecting on what went wrong with his education.

Feng Rugu, on the other hand, felt there was nothing wrong. After returning home and washing his hands, Grandma took him to eat snacks.

Before going to bed, he said to Grandma who was about to blow out the lamp, "Grandma, leave a lamp on."

Grandma thought for a moment and also smiled, "Before bed, this old servant told the young master not to drink so much tea, but he wouldn't listen. Alright, I'll leave a lamp for you."

Feng Rugu asked again, "Are the courtyard gates all closed properly?"

Grandma teased him, "What, are you afraid the ghost granny will come to catch you?"

Feng Rugu pulled the quilt tightly and repeated the question, "Is the main gate closed properly?"

Grandma smiled lovingly, "Yes, young master, they're all closed properly."

Despite this, Feng Rugu was still apprehensive.

Just like that, three or four days passed. Just as he was about to forget about the matter, at midnight, a commotion suddenly arose.

Feng Rugu immediately sat up, ran to the bedside barefoot, pulled open the window, and saw the sky ablaze with fire in front of the main gate. It turned out there was a fire.

The clamor mixed with the sound of fighting vaguely came through, and Feng Rugu only heard a general idea.

"Wealthy but inhumane! Wealthy but inhumane!"

"A few days ago, they still put on a show, giving us rice, but now... rice bran..."

"Feeding pigs..."

Grandma rushed in in a panic and picked him up without a word, then ran out.

Feng Rugu weakly grabbed her hair that she hadn't had time to comb, "Grandma, what's going on? What happened?"

Grandma ran with her small feet, panting and gasping for breath, unable to answer him.

Large patches of torches poured in from the main gate, like spots of bloody eyes.

Even though Feng Rugu was precocious, he was still badly frightened, "Dad, Mom... Grandma, where are my dad and mom?"

Grandma's face turned pale, and Feng Rugu's face also turned white.

...He heard the sound of footsteps chasing after them.

The sound of the wind whooshed in his ears, and he vaguely saw the face of the pursuer.

His features were not particularly fierce, at least not like the villains in Feng Rugu's knowledge.

But he raised a firewood knife, and with a swing of his hand, he chopped off one of Grandma's legs.

Blood splattered, landing on Feng Rugu's feet, warm and hot.

The old nanny let out a miserable cry, using the last of her strength to throw Feng Rugu, whom she was embracing from the front, forward, sobbing, "Young master, run! Run!" Even in death, she couldn't bear to let her young master fall.

After Feng Rugu's feet landed steadily on the ground, he clenched his teeth and turned to flee. The direction the nanny fled was towards the back courtyard, where there was a large lotus pond with fresh water connected to the outside. To prevent thieves from entering, the water inlet was very narrow, only allowing children to pass through.

Feng Rugu arrived at the edge of the pond, dove headfirst into the water, and swam in one breath to the exit, struggling out of the hole that was already a bit narrow for him. After crawling out of the pond, he collapsed on the ground, exhausted, looking up at the cold, bright moon hanging high in the sky. Even though he had just crawled out of the water, his throat was filled with the taste of fresh blood, making him feel nauseous in waves.

Feng Rugu slowly got up from the ground, not daring to delay, and entered the bamboo grove to hide. After walking a hundred or so steps, he nearly ran into a dozen disaster victims taking shelter in the bamboo grove. He immediately lay on the ground, hot sweat mixed with ice water flowing down from his nasal bridge, silently falling into the soil. This group of disaster victims was chatting and didn't notice Feng Rugu.

"Judging from the commotion, the fight seems quite lively."

"What, you want to join in?"

"If I wanted to join in, wouldn't I have gone in with them? I think something's not quite right. I saw Big A secretly dumping rice bran into their porridge pot."

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"What could I say? When Big A started shouting, getting everyone all riled up, if I had jumped out, wouldn't I just be asking for a beating?"

Laughter erupted all around, "You talk big, but didn't you just get scared and shrink your balls!"

Feng Rugu's shoulders began to tremble violently, his palms tightly grasping a clump of wet mud.

"Hey, Big A and Second A led us all the way from Guanzhong, helping us a lot along the way. We can't just eat two bowls of the Feng family's food and then go report them to the officials, right?"

"Bullshit, Big A and Second A just want to take advantage of the situation. Seeing everyone praising the Feng family for being good people, they realized they were losing face. Then, seeing how impressive the Feng residence is, they decided to find an excuse to rob them and eat a few meals with meat."

"The Feng family are good people, doing this is too unrighteous."

"Anyway, we've all suffered from the disaster, so we should all be equally miserable."

"The Feng family is also at fault. They say wealth should not be flaunted, yet they set up a porridge stall and medical clinic right in front of their own door, naturally attracting jealous eyes. Now that they've brought trouble upon themselves and are being robbed to help the poor, who can they blame?"

The crowd chattered for a while, then went on to discuss future matters.

Feng Rugu quietly crawled away from the bamboo grove. After exiting the grove, little Feng Rugu sat on the ground, thinking for a moment. He took off his sleepwear and smeared wet mud on half of his cheek, washing it to create a mottled appearance. He wrapped his sleepwear around his hand, picked up a palm-sized stone from the ground, and struck the wall twice to confirm it wouldn't shatter with one hit. Then he ran towards the direction of the moving shadows ahead.

A short, scarred man was guarding the southeast corner of the Feng family manor. Seeing a half-naked child suddenly running out from the back, he became alert. However, before he could speak, Feng Rugu wiped his nose and called out proudly and affectionately, "Brother!"

The torches had all been taken inside, and in the dim light, the scarred man couldn't see his face clearly. He asked in surprise, "Who are you?" Feng Rugu didn't answer, first showing the dripping wet clothes and boasting as if seeking credit, "I killed one! A boy ran out from the lotus pond in the back and bumped into me face to face. He tried to escape, so I..." As he spoke, he made a smashing watermelon motion, "Bam, I hit him with a rock and even stripped off his clothes!"

The scarred man rubbed the burn scar on his chin. In the past few days, there had been quite a few new disaster victims, at least a dozen or so people coming to rely on Big Brother A and Second Brother A. He hadn't paid attention to whether this half-grown boy was among them. He said, "Alright, well done. Hey, where's the hole you mentioned?"

Feng Rugu pointed to the water source, "Over there!"

"Take me to see it," the scarred man patted his thin shoulder. "There might still be people trying to crawl out from inside. If any living person escapes and reports to the officials, Big Brother and Second Brother won't be able to say their family was unrighteous first. Understand?"

Feng Rugu put on a smile, "I understand."

The scarred man was led to the water's edge by Feng Rugu and looked around, "Where's the boy you mentioned? He couldn't have survived and escaped, right?" Feng Rugu said, "How could that be? I threw him into the pond. Look, he's soaking right there."

"Where?"

The scarred man looked in the direction Feng Rugu was pointing—

Feng Rugu silently raised the stone behind him, and with a force that almost dislocated his arm, smashed it onto the back of the man's head. The man's head made a crisp cracking sound like a watermelon being split open. His body went limp and was about to fall into the pond.

Feng Rugu grabbed him and gently laid him flat. As quietly as possible, he stripped off the man's clothes full of patches and lice. Without even looking, he haphazardly draped them over himself and tied the waistband. He then slid into the pond like a fish, going back through the small hole, re-entering the Feng family manor that had been completely taken over.

He cautiously poked his head out from the withered lotus leaves, confirming that the people who had been chasing him earlier were not guarding the shore, before quietly climbing ashore from the side.

Author's Note: This is the "killing mortals" that little Feng was criticized for by the Dao Sect. qwq