Chapter 8 Section 7 Joint Action

The next day is the auspicious day of the zodiac in the mouth of Uncle Gousheng. Uncle Gousheng said that every time the tomb robbers dig the tomb, they will turn over the old almanac to look for good luck. That morning, Uncle Gousheng got up early and took me to the market at the foot of the mountain.Uncle Gousheng and I came very early, and there was not a single stall in the market.On the streets paved with bluestone slabs, an old man with an ox and a plow walked with his head bowed. The footsteps of the man and the ox were equally slow and heavy, as well as old and slow; a dirty bitch ran slowly, with a belly and The buttocks are shaking all the way; a few hens are burying their heads in the street for food, with a concentrated expression; a rooster stands on the steps, looking into the distance from a high place, looking like a corrupt official.

There is a shop on the side of the street, selling candy, tobacco, alcohol, pencils, rubber, joss sticks, paper money, and other things that are useful to the living and the dead.When we arrived, the boss had just gotten up, yawned, removed the door panels, and leaned the door panels against the door one by one.The boss is short and fat, with stubby limbs and fat features, and a red and big nose is the most striking sign on his face.There are only a few hairs on the top of his head, and as his body continues to rise and fall when he moves the door panel, those few hairs are shaking from side to side, crumbling, which makes people worry.

Uncle Gousheng said that they gather at this store first every time. The identity of the store owner is very mysterious, even Uncle Gousheng doesn't know, he only knows that he runs a store and sells goods.And the people in "One Pot" also kept silent about this bald shop owner, keeping secrets. "One pot" is a Taoist name, referring to the entire gang of tomb robbers. The store owner let us into the store, made a pot of tea, and ignored us.He sat at the door of the store alone, holding a crumpled book and reading. While I was talking to Uncle Gousheng, I looked at him secretly, only to find that he was also looking at me secretly. His eyes were like broken glass, which made people feel hairy.

I suddenly remembered the dry land Hulu Zhugui in the book, that was Liang Shan's eyeliner planted at the foot of the mountain.Is this strange-looking store owner also the eyeliner of the tomb gang in the town? After half an hour, the number of people in the town gradually increased. There were children chasing and frolicking on the street, like a flock of birds just flying out of their cages; there were also women talking and laughing, like the sound of rushing water.The town began to have a lively atmosphere. A skinny man walked up the street, carrying a homespun backpack.Walking to the door of the store, he raised one foot and slapped the dust on the bottom of his trousers with his palm. After he patted this foot, he slapped the other foot.He straightened up, and it struck me that he had only one eye.

He walked into the store, turned his one-eyed eyes twice on my face, and then asked Uncle Gousheng, "Who is this?" Uncle Gousheng hurriedly said, "My nephew, my family." His eyes rolled around me twice, and he asked again: "A scholar?" Uncle Gousheng hurriedly nodded and bowed: "Yes, yes." One-eyed is very happy, he is very satisfied with his judgment, he is truly "clear at a glance", and can tell that I am a scholar with only one eye.In our place, all scholars are called scholars, and the ancient titles for scholars are still used. Uncle Gousheng introduced to me: "You, Uncle Quan, can walk."

I nodded without wasting time. I guess, the leg that Uncle Gousheng is talking about is the one-eyed, Uncle Quan in front of him. When the one-eyed man spoke, there was a smile on his face, but I couldn't see any smile from his one-eyed eye. His one-eyed eye was like a piece of ice, so cold that people dare not look at each other.He is also very fond of blinking.According to the folks in my hometown, people who like to blink are ghosts. Not long after Cyclops came, another person walked into the store. This person was big and round, and every muscle in his body was as hard as a stone. Even the muscles on his face were bruised. He should look very ferocious.His clothes were as old and tattered as Uncle Gousheng’s, with his trousers rolled up, one pair of trousers high and the other low, and he wore a pair of yellow rubber shoes without socks.His hair was short, with grass clippings from the night before.

However, he was not at all vicious. There is always a smile on his face, the smile is very sad and very careful, it seems that a gust of wind will blow the smile away.When he talks to others, he always habitually leans forward, accompany him carefully, and carefully check the expressions of others.There are more ambiguous tone words in his words: oh, huh, um, ah... Like many middle-aged farmers here who have never left the poor mountain valley all their lives, he speaks without assertiveness and always echoes others. Uncle Gousheng introduced to me: "This is you, Uncle Wa." I felt that he was a very reliable and responsible person, so I called out, "Uncle Caiwa."

He was very moved and grabbed my hand all of a sudden, not knowing what to say, with a flattered expression on his face.His hands are big, like steel rings, which made me hurt. I subconsciously twitched my hands, but he quickly let go, with his palms behind his back, guilt written all over his face, and he still didn't know what to say. After thinking about it, he finally said it.He said, "Ahhh..." Uncle Gousheng introduced me to him again and said, "My nephew is a scholar." He was even more flattered, but still didn't know what to say, after thinking about it, he said again: "Ahhh..."

I think, Uncle Caiwa may be the same as Uncle Gousheng, both of them suffer.Uncle Caiwa is like Lu Da, and Uncle Gousheng is like Shi Qian. Uncle Caiwa should be a grave-digger, and Uncle Gousheng should be a grave-digger. When the sun rises to the top of the mountain in the east, the market also begins.Cheerful marketers in clean clothes walk every dirt road leading into town.There are also rack carts on the dirt road, with a fat pig with four hooves tied on it, and a loyal old scalper in front of the cart.Old people, children, women, men...even chickens in dung cages, donkeys in hands, sheep driven under whips...like streams of water, flowing into the big river in the town.

The town was as lively as a pot of boiling water. Next to the bazaar is the mule and horse market, where people shout and neigh, and brokers and buyers and sellers hold their fingers in their sleeves; then there is the pig and sheep market, where sheep cry pitifully "Mom, mother", and pigs writhe The neck shouted "No, no"; then there were snack sellers, twists, dim sum, biscuits, walnuts, peanuts, persimmons, etc., placed one by one; In the most ostentatious place, the carriages of walking tractors are made into shelves, on which bundles of cloth of various colors and patterns are placed; next to the cloth sellers are food sellers, the fire is red, and the shouts are loud. The oil cake seller slapped his palms, and the noodle seller stretched and retracted his arms, as if he was practicing Tai Chi; chopping board……

Such an antique market can only be seen in remote mountainous areas. The four of us—Uncle Gousheng, Uncle Caiwa, Cyclops, and I—ate a bowl of fried noodles and a bowl of noodles at the market, and then stopped a walking tractor to go to the market ten miles away. At the foot of a hill in Dori. The mountain is not high, but it is very famous in the surrounding counties because of the thoroughfare at the foot of the mountain.In the early years, when I was working in the county, I rode my bicycle down the mountain several times, put the bicycle in the home of a fellow villager at the bottom of the mountain, and then walked up the rugged mountain road.There used to be a family on the mountain, but they moved to the foot of the mountain due to inconvenient transportation and other reasons. There are only a few bare earthen kilns left on the mountain. At that time, I had just graduated from college, and every holiday I would ride that jingling bicycle on the dusty roads in the countryside, flying around like a big bird and perching everywhere.I still remember one time, I climbed to this mountain, and left a doggerel on a wall that was blackened by the smoke from the stove. Thousands of rivers and mountains".At that time, I was the age of sentimentality, and it was also the age of not knowing the heights of the sky and the earth. However, this time I was surprised to find that the mountain had been turned into a tourist attraction, and a temple was built on the mountain. There were several monks in the temple. We climbed along the rugged and winding mountain road, which was crowded with tourists and worshipers. Some devout men and women in ragged clothes carried cloth bags, which contained paper money and incense candles purchased at the foot of the mountain. There are also such sacrificial supplies on the mountain. shops, but the price has doubled, and these poor and pious people cannot afford it. Those abandoned earthen kilns can no longer be seen, replaced by a magnificent temple, far away, you can hear the sound of chanting from the speaker, the sound is protracted and lengthy, like a song that is pulled and pulled. Constant rubber bands.The smell of joss sticks wafted in the air, making people feel like flying and making people want to sneeze. The outside of the temple is surrounded by a high wall, and there is only one gate to enter. There is a ticket office at the gate, and a ticket costs 20 yuan. 20 yuan is the living expenses of many local families for a week.There is also a nonsensical couplet at the door. The first couplet is "If you have troubles and pains, you will leave this door", and the second couplet is "If you want to get rich and happy, burn a stick of incense and you will get better."Seeing this couplet, I remembered the private hospitals I wrote about in "Unannounced Visits to Black Doctor Dens". Their walls were covered with pennants that I gave myself, and there were also words on them that said "medicine can cure the disease", Phrases such as "Huatuo is reborn" are designed to deceive rural people who do not have much social experience. Cyclops bought four tickets and led us into the temple.Uncle Gousheng told me quietly that every time before digging a tomb, he would come in to offer incense and ask divination. The divination in this temple is very effective. The people offering incense actually lined up. Under the leadership of a big fat monk, everyone first bowed to the temple three times, then threw the incense into the incense burner, and then followed the fat monk into the temple. Kneel down in front of the Buddha statue whose name is known, and after three kowtows, the fat monk asks you to put money in the merit box.Then, another monk takes you to the back hall. In the back hall, there is an old monk with a beard who asks you to draw lots for fortune-telling. We knelt on the futon in front of the Buddha statue one by one, with our eyes closed, I heard a monk next to me beating the wooden fish with a mellow voice.The monk was chanting words, he didn't know what he was chanting, and his tone was slippery, maybe even he didn't know what he was chanting. The merit box is transparent. Unexpectedly, even the temple boxes are keeping pace with the times and are made of plexiglass.Through the glass, I saw that it was full of banknotes of various denominations, including a lot of 100 yuan and 50 yuan.The mountain people here live in extreme poverty, but they all donate their frugal money to an unknown clay statue of Buddha. I feel very sad. One-eyed put 400 yuan into the merit box, and a monk with dark skin took us into the back hall.The light in the back hall was dim, and there was a table on the ground. The old monk with a beard was calm and relaxed, his eyes were slightly closed, and he looked like an eminent monk. The black monk picked up the bamboo tube from the table. There were various hexagram sticks in the bamboo tube. He shook it twice and let the one-eyed draw a lot. One-eyed carefully pulled out a lot. The black monk handed the bamboo stick to the old monk. The old monk looked at it carefully. After looking at it, he said calmly, "Sign on it." The one-eyed face couldn't help but smile. The black monk encouraged Cyclopedia: "Quickly untie the lottery, and then show some love to the Lord Buddha." Cyclops took out 500 yuan from his trouser pocket and handed it to the old monk. Tickets cost money, kowtows cost money, and sign-offs cost money. This temple is simply a toll booth for "leaving money to buy roads".I thought that divination and lottery is a Taoist ritual. Buddha statues are enshrined here, and monks ask for money. Why is divination and lottery required? I felt strange, so I took the first two steps to observe the old monk carefully, and was suddenly taken aback.There was a mole on the edge of his lip—I've known this man before, I've seen him before.He is not a monk, he sells rat poison, and he is in the rivers and lakes. The old monk closed his eyes and muttered something in his mouth, looking unfathomable.I quietly pointed to the old monk and asked the black monk: "Where did the master come from?" The black monk said: "The master became a monk in Wutai Mountain since he was a child. He came here after the temple here was completed. He was sent by Wutai Mountain. We are a branch of Wutai Mountain." The master did not become a monk since he was a child, but he sold rat poison since he was a child. There was the so-called "shangshangzhi" on the table. I picked it up and saw that there was a poem written on it: "What is prosperity and wealth? The sky is full of dark clouds and I can't tell. When I come to eat, I open my mouth and wear a leather coat, and I say Ami to the west." .” It’s really nonsense, I don’t know what to say.Precisely because they don't know what to say, good men and women feel unfathomable, and feel that they need a master to explain the lottery, and good men and women will believe what the so-called master says. I quietly picked up the other bamboo sticks in the bamboo tube, and saw that there were four ancient poems written on them.I feel that I have a solid foundation in ancient prose, but none of the poems I can understand, they are all in the cloud, with crazy words, and the preface does not match the postscript.This kind of lottery may be the upper lottery. Since they are all upper lottery, the benefactor will give money. The black monk found that I was flipping through the bamboo sticks, so he patted my arm and said, "Don't flip through the sticks, the Buddha will blame me." After muttering for a few minutes, the master opened his eyes and said, "Just now, I saw the Buddha, and the Buddha told me that you are about to make a fortune." One-eyed, Uncle Gousheng, and Uncle Caiwa all beamed with joy. Only I know that this master is talking nonsense. One-eyed wanted to ask the master a few more words, but the black monk made a gesture of please, and we had no choice but to go out. The black monk brought another girl into the back hall. After walking ten meters away, I lied that I had forgotten something, and then turned back to the back hall. Suddenly, I heard the old monk say again: "Sign on the top." The girl was overjoyed again. I don't know where the master's home is, but a few years ago, I could often see the master in the urban area. When I was in college, I had a best classmate. After graduation, he was assigned to a school for the children of factories in the urban area, and I was assigned to a high school in the county.We are forty or fifty miles apart.At that time, the school for the children of factories and mines provided very good benefits. He received 200 yuan more than us every month. Everyone envied him. We meet almost once a month. Sometimes he comes to the county town, and sometimes I go to the city, riding a bicycle.His family opened a store next to the factory, and his mother usually runs it there. On weekends, he would sell goods instead of his mother. In front of his store, there is often an old man selling rat poison at a stall.The old man had a distinct black mole at the corner of his mouth, his hair was sparse, but his beard was thick, and the dirty black and white beard was often mixed with rice grains and grass clippings, making him look extremely sloppy.No one knew where the old man's house was or who else was in the house. Every time I go to the city, I will chat with the old man.After a few words, I felt that this old man was very unreal. When he spoke, saliva flew around, his eyebrows danced, his eyes looked at the sky with glaucoma, and he was complacent, but you couldn’t tell which of his words were true and which is fake.He is an old Jianghu. At that time, I felt sorry for him, and every time I went there, I would bring him a pack of cigarettes, which were also the cigarettes I usually smoked, and each pack cost one yuan.He was very happy and regarded me as a confidant. After we got to know each other well, once, he insisted on giving me his rat poison, but I refused. He said, "Don't worry, this pack is real medicine, not fake medicine." Small packets of rat poison said: "These are all fake." I really like making friends in the world, so I asked him: "How to make fake rat poison?" He said with a smile: "Take two red bricks and grind them together, and it will be rat poison. No one knows, and it's easy to sell." He is also a talented actor.Once, he was eating sesame seed cakes while peddling rat poison. When he finished eating the sesame seed cakes, he suddenly fell to the ground with blood on his hands.The people on the side of the road were terrified and called a tricycle to take him to the hospital.People lifted him into the carriage, and he woke up suddenly, struggling to crawl to the side of the rat poison.When the people on the street saw it, they immediately crowded to buy rat poison.Rat poison can poison such a big living person, so what is a small mouse. Only he and I know that his poison is fake, and the blood on his hands is also fake, it is red mercury. Another time, someone took out a piece of fake money to buy rat poison, and he wrapped the medicine without saying a word. I kept hinting to him that it was a piece of fake money, but he ignored it and took the fake money away. He got up and handed the rat poison to the visitor.After the man left, I said, "That's fake money. What do you want it for?" He smiled triumphantly and said, "Of course I know it's fake money. How can people who walk in the rivers and lakes be deceived by fake money? His medicines are fake." At that time, he was very poor and his clothes were ragged, but as long as he had some money in his pocket, he would go shopping in brothels.There is a village next to the bus station in the urban area, and almost every household in the village is engaged in this kind of pimping business.As long as you pass by the entrance of the village, those honest-looking villagers will stop you and ask: "Old fellow, go for a shot?" As long as you follow them into the house, they will take you into a house, and in that house there are There is a whore.These prostitutes live in the homes of pimps. They are generally rough-skinned, ugly-looking, and older. They are prostitutes who have retired from the city, or divorced women who are lazy in the countryside.These prostitutes are very cheap, and there are also twenty or thirty yuan. All the money he made from selling counterfeit medicines went to prostitutes. Unexpectedly, after not seeing him for a few years, this rat poison seller has transformed into a master who became a monk in Wutai Mountain since he was a child, and he can also explain those seven-character verses like the scriptures. Over the years, I have been to many temples due to work.However, I have seen that some are indeed fake temples, and there are fake monks in the fake temples, who take advantage of people's belief in past lives, and belief in fate and retribution to cheat money. There are also some unscrupulous travel agencies that, when organizing tours, will take tourists to these fake temples, deceiving people to burn incense, and one stick of incense will cost hundreds or thousands of yuan.Then fortune-telling, a hexagram will also cost tens or hundreds of yuan.When the tourists were free to move around in the temple, the tour guide walked into the back hall and sat on the ground with the fake monks to share the spoils. How rich will the fake monk be?Their wealth is so great that it would make every ordinary person gasp. There was a fake monk who shaved his head on a certain mountain for three years and bought a mountain forest after returning home.There are more fake monks who grew their hair out after going down the mountain, bought luxury houses, luxury cars and married beautiful wives.Where does their money come from?It was donated by devout and poor men and women. So, how to distinguish real temples from fake temples?How can we prevent being slaughtered by fake monks? Real temples don't ask you to buy expensive tickets, and some even offer free entry.If there is a Buddha, does the Buddha want his poor believers to leave money to buy roads like cutting flesh?According to the explanation in the Buddhist scriptures, the Buddha is full of love, the Buddha's light shines everywhere, and saves all living beings, so he will not block the way to rob you like a robber.Therefore, the real temples that promote Buddhism will not ask for expensive tickets, except for a few well-known temples that have been fully commercialized. Burning incense and worshiping Buddha, let them do what they want, you are free to come and go in the temple, no one interferes.If there are monks guiding you, you must pay attention. These monks are likely to be fake monks. They are like the guide doctors in private hospitals wearing red ribbons, and they guide you to unexpected places.If the monk doesn't recite scriptures well, what kind of tour guide should he be?Monks in real temples do not have such a tour guide business. There is a merit box in front of the Buddha statue, and the donation depends entirely on your volition, and no one will force you.If there are monks forcing you to donate more money, it must be a fake monk.If there is a Buddha, the Buddha will love everyone and will not dislike you because you are poor. After kowtowing, if a monk guides you to draw lots for fortune-telling, you can go or not.If you go there and ask for money for lottery drawing and money for unraveling lottery, then you must be a fake monk.These fake monks are very hateful. They take advantage of some people's belief in fate and sharpen their knives. They will not stop until they see the blood of pigs and sheep. When you are wandering around the temple, if a monk sells you some consecrated Bodhisattva, it must be a fake monk.Don’t think that Bodhisattvas will blame you if you don’t buy Buddha statues. If there are Bodhisattvas, Bodhisattvas will even blame these villains who use her name to cheat. There are fake temples and fake monks defrauding money everywhere; and some real monks in real temples are also working together to kill customers. The more tourist attractions, the more common this phenomenon.Developers, temples, and tourists have become a tourism industry chain.And those so-called masters, living Buddhas, and eminent monks are their selling points. Fortune-telling, preaching, and lectures are their usual methods. All their activities and arms are stretched into your pocket.If you spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars in a temple and don’t wake up, you are a complete fool. Outsiders don't know that, except for those regular temples with good reputation and incense that have lasted for hundreds of years, many temples have been contracted by developers. The money you give is not to the Lord Buddha, but to the Lord Buddha. open business.Some tourist attractions do not have temples, and developers will also build temples.There are also developers who build temples and then contract them out. For a temple with only one yard, the annual contracting fee is 400,000 to 500,000 yuan, and for a temple with two yards and three yards, it costs as much as one million yuan.Such a temple is not a place for self-cultivation, but a veritable slaughterhouse. After the temple was built, it began to recruit fake monks, advertised, made up some bizarre stories, and tricked faithful men and women to worship and burn incense. Who are these fake monks?Some unscrupulous young people in the countryside, old bachelors who steal chickens and dogs, young gangsters who do not do their jobs, and old liars like rat poison masters. This has become an open secret in this industry.