Three days after entering the temple, Cheng Daban finally knew what the weather forecast was that morning, which he didn't understand.

After more than ten days, most of the city's trees have been sunburned into bald spots, and the local area ushered in the most freewheeling weather in history. The night before, it was pouring rain and hail. Yesterday the wind roared, and the little novice was busy going in and out, and the fallen leaves swept out of the front yard were full and poured. The oil, salt, sauce and vinegar bottles between the stoves were blown crookedly, and the little novice came out again and again to help him more than a dozen times, so frightened that Cheng Daban hid in the Niangniang Palace and didn't dare to make any noise for a day.

Today is okay, the drizzle, is the dark clouds and black pressure.

During the rainy season, most of Cheng has a headache.

I also wrote a sour poem about this.

"It's raining

Gypsy witches hid under my skull to shelter from the rain

She holds a reed plucked from the shores of Lake Titicaca in Peru in her mouth

Inattentive, one bite at a time,

Feel free to suck my brain juice

Chat with me casually

Girl, it tastes a little bitter."

Women are always like this, moving themselves by some cheap poetry.

During the day, Cheng Daban hid in a makeshift bed made of a few puye dumplings to sleep a lot, and waited until there was no one at night, sitting alone on the old carp bell in the courtyard, looking at the gray leaves and starry sky on the roof, swinging around and moving his muscles.

In the yard, there is an old walnut tree with a special fireworks. Although the tree is not large, it is large enough to support the entire blue sky of this small deserted side yard. The wind rose, a few walnuts fell on his head, and most of Cheng had food.

Overheard that several people in the temple called each other, and Cheng Daban knew that the little novices who brought in were called Wuxi, Wuwei, Wuzhen, and Wucun.

Guja Monastery holds a fasting meeting every four years, at the beginning of the next month. It's a big deal.

There is no AI monk in the temple who can talk to tourists. A few novices drew patterns and, with the help of a donor, ordered a large pullover wooden fish doll on the Internet. The benefactor put on his head and enlivened the atmosphere of the scene.

Although the four major monks are empty, it is always a supreme merit to turn into some merit money, save a golden body for my Buddha in the coming year, and then repair and rest the dilapidated backyard wing.

The young man rejoiced at all, and the abbot was merciful. Hearing this, most of Cheng also yearns for fasting.

In fact, you can also expand the stove room, take out the food and supply it, how much is a person, and you can pay for it by scanning the code. The pilgrims who go up the mountain will surely be full of praise. Cheng Daban thought so.

Except that he didn't have the opportunity to eat with these masters, Cheng Daban almost thought that he was also a member of Gujia Temple and could give advice for their happiness and well-being.

After all, what fascinates her the most is the kitchen of this temple. At four o'clock in the morning, the starry sky has not dispersed, and the fragrance of vegetarian wontons and steaming jujube steamed buns has wafted out in front of them. For lunch and dinner, there are usually eggplant, tofu, carrots, and shiitake mushrooms, which are vegetables grown in the temple, which are all found when Cheng Da sneaked over in the middle of the night to peek at the trash can.

She also stole a few bottles of chili sauce from the kitchen and went back to eat. In the corner, there are hundreds of bottles, labeled with a brush.

The craftsmanship of these monks is really good.