Absolute power in officialdom

Chapter 211 The Monk Plays the Drum

Zhang Ping's eyes lit up, and he chimed in, "That's right! How come I didn't think of that! Safety in production is of paramount importance!"

This is the absolute red line! Anyone who touches it dies!

Song Xiaolong gave a thumbs up: "Brilliant! Even if Wu Zhiyuan and Wei Guochun have extraordinary abilities, would they dare to joke about the lives of hundreds of miners and state property?"

Zhang Ping picked up a piece of beef jerky and joked to himself, "Others brag, I just eat—"

He stuffed the beef jerky whole into his mouth, chewing it exaggeratedly, greasy sauce dripping from the corners of his mouth, and continued, "Eat the real thing! Hahaha!"

Yang Jinshan laughed heartily: "Replenish your energy, the last dish is very tiring."

Everyone burst into laughter, a knowing smile on their faces.

Zhang Ping changed the subject: "Let me tell you a true story. There's a temple in the next county, and I know the abbot there."

I never expected him to be a philanderer. He was chatting online with a married woman who sold furniture. As they chatted, they ended up booking a hotel room together, and not just once.

No secrets stay hidden forever; after a while, the woman's husband found out.

The woman's husband set up a honey trap, catching the abbot in the act. He demanded money from the monks to buy their peace, or he would report them to the Buddhist Association.

The monk spent over two million yuan, thinking he had settled the matter, but the woman's husband, having tasted the sweetness of success, became insatiable and continued to extort money from her endlessly.

Left with no other option, the abbot called the police, and the scandal came to light.

The woman's husband was immediately arrested on charges of extortion, and the abbot was expelled from the Buddhist order.

Chen Junqiang laughed heartily: "So you're just a monk who drinks and eats meat! Let me tell you a joke."

The abbot of the temple wanted to see how well the monks had cultivated themselves, and whether they were truly free from worldly desires and distractions.

He devised a plan to have each monk sit cross-legged on a large drum and chant sutras, and secretly arranged a special test.

A stunningly beautiful woman dressed in a light, sheer dress entered the main hall and began to dance slowly to the music.

As she swayed and danced, removing her clothes, the atmosphere in the hall became subtle.

Before long, the drums in front of the young monks began to beat loudly, and the sound grew louder and louder.

The abbot knew that these young monks were far from having the necessary concentration.

His gaze swept across the entire room, finally settling on an old monk with white eyebrows.

From the beginning until now, the old monk has kept his eyes closed and his palms together, and the large drum beneath him has not sounded a single note.

The abbot nodded secretly, filled with admiration: indeed, his cultivation was profound, and he had reached a state of selflessness.

After the dance, the crowd dispersed.

The abbot walked up to the old monk, put his palms together and bowed: "Brother, your composure is as firm as a rock, unperturbed by wind or rain. You are truly a model for our temple."

The old monk slowly opened his eyes, smiled slightly, and stood up.

But the moment he left the drumhead, everyone was stunned—a fist-sized hole had been pierced through the front of the drum.

It turns out the drum wasn't silent; it had simply been punctured long ago.

Everyone burst into laughter.

Song Xiaolong said, "I'll also tell a joke to make everyone laugh."

Two monks went down the mountain to beg for alms and passed by a widow's house.

The widow was hospitable and invited them to stay for a vegetarian meal.

At the dinner table, the young monk stole glances at the widow, his mind wandering.

The old monk, observing this, coughed and said to the widow, "Madam, my disciple has been complaining of sand in his eyes lately during his practice; I fear he may have an eye ailment."

Do you often work in the fields and encounter any sand blowing into your eyes?

The widow, being kind-hearted, leaned closer and said, "Let me see?"

She cupped the little monk's face in her hands and gently blew air into his eyes.

Her breath was fragrant, and the young monk blushed and his heart pounded.

Afterwards, the young monk was overwhelmed with gratitude to his master: "Thank you so much, Master, for making this possible!"

The old monk glared at him and muttered, "Grant my ass! I only let her get closer so you could see clearly that the wrinkles around her eyes are rougher than the bark of the old pine tree on the back mountain! To put an end to your hopes!"

Yang Jinshan said, "I also remembered a joke about a monk, which I heard. I'll tell it to entertain you all and make you laugh."

There is an ancient temple deep in the mountains, but it is not very popular with worshippers.

There was an old monk in the temple, living a simple and frugal life with a young monk.

As the young monk grew up, worldly desires began to stir within him. Looking at the dazzling world below the mountain, his heart ached as if being scratched by a cat.

One day, he finally couldn't hold back any longer and ran to the old monk and said: Master, I want to return to secular life.

Upon hearing this, the old monk, without even raising his eyelids, said while fiddling with his prayer beads: "My disciple, the mortal world is full of troubles. Now that you have entered the Buddhist order, you should be free from worldly desires. Why then do you entertain such delusional thoughts?"

The young monk said with a bitter face: "Master, I just feel that this temple is too deserted. I want to get married, have a child, and live the life of an ordinary family."

The old monk sighed and said, "Oh, you wicked child. Very well, if you insist on going, I will not force you to stay."

However, since you have been tempted by worldly desires and broken the precepts, you need to be punished to give an explanation to the Buddha.

Here's what you'll do: before you go down the mountain, go to the vegetable garden behind the mountain and headbutt that oldest, stiffest, crooked locust tree a hundred times.

The young monk was dumbfounded when he heard this, but in order to leave the monastic life, he gritted his teeth, ran to the back mountain, found the crooked old locust tree, and started banging on it.

He was hit ninety-nine times, his head was bleeding profusely, he was seeing stars, and he was about to give up.

Just then, he suddenly had a flash of insight. He stopped, touched his swollen head, and exclaimed in realization: "Oh! I understand! Master is telling me that returning to secular life to marry is like banging your head against a tree—it's asking for trouble, it's foolish!"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Ping laughed and said, "This old monk's advice is quite insightful."

"It's not over yet," Yang Jinshan waved his hand and continued, "The little monk figured it out and realized that becoming a monk was the best thing to do, so he went back to the old monk with a head full of bumps, knelt down with a thud: 'Master, your disciple is foolish, but now I understand! I won't return to secular life!' Guess what the old monk said?"

Yang Jinshan mimicked the old monk's exasperated tone, slowly saying, "The old monk glared at him and scolded, 'Fool! I told you to knock down the tree so I could take the wood down the mountain and exchange it for some money to cover your journey back to secular life and your dowry when you get married! Who told you to actually run yourself into a tree!'"

"Hahaha!" Song Xiaolong was the first to burst out laughing, nearly spitting out his drink.

Chen Junqiang slapped his thigh and laughed loudly, "Stupid! Utterly stupid! This foolish monk!"

Zhang Ping shook his head and chuckled, commenting, "That's a brilliant joke. One thought can lead to heaven, another to hell."

The reason why fools are fools is that they only know how to use stupid methods, do not know how to be flexible, and do not understand the master's profound meaning.

Like some people in Xindian Town, they clearly have shortcuts, powerful connections, and readily available resources, yet they insist on hitting a brick wall instead. What else could they be but fools?

Everyone understood that the "certain people" Zhang Ping was referring to were Wu Zhiyuan, Wu Changchun, and others.

After several rounds of drinks and five courses of food,

Yang Jinshan clapped his hands and said to the people outside the private room, "Come in, everyone, and serve these leaders well."

The heavy, carved wooden door was gently pushed open again, and the same four girls filed in, only this time they were dressed more provocatively.

The air was filled with the aroma of food and wine, along with a strong scent of perfume.