Copper Coins

Chapter 7: Title 7

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This appearance is not here to hunt ghosts, but to get people.

As the saying goes, "If you don't do bad things, you won't be afraid of ghosts knocking on the door." But the young monk glanced at it and turned his gaze back. He pushed open the gate of the house, and without looking at anyone, he raised his feet and walked out, as if the group of people with lanterns in front of him did not exist.

The people surrounding the door of the Jiang family's yào hall are not idlers. They were wearing the gray-blue standard robes of the county government, with a dozen or so thin knives hanging from their waists. As soon as the monk was about to leave, they immediately held down their waist knives, closed the circle, and blocked the monk's path.

The monk stopped, frowning and surveying the people in front of him, as if he didn't know what these people had to do with him.

"What you said, but this person?" A slightly older voice sounded suddenly.

The monk glanced at the speaker - it was a middle-aged man with a small stature, wearing a master hat and a goatee. He looked thin, but his belly was slightly convex. If it was a local in Ningyang, Dingren would immediately recognize the middle-aged man as Liu Xu, the master of the Ningyang county government office.

But the monk is not a local. With his son-in-law, even if he is a local, he may not pay attention to what his master looks like, how many eyes and a few mouths.

On the other hand, it was the person who Master Liu questioned, and the monk still had a three-point impression—it was none other than the little clerk in Jiuweiju.

It turned out that the waiter thought about the notice on the side of the Jiuweiju building, and finally went to the county government office. Since such a heavy reward is offered, it must be a difficult crime to commit. Who knows if he has a string of murders on his back

So, the court clerk reported the young monk like this.

The monk's eyes fell on the clerk, who seemed to feel a little guilty, and shrank his neck slightly backwards, he said hesitantly: "Master, I..."

Before he could speak, the young monk had already withdrawn his gaze. He raised his finger, and a dark object drew an arc and fell squarely into the clerk's arms. The court waiter replied that it was something hurtful, and closed his eyes in shock. Hearing the sound of copper plates bumping against each other, he opened his eyes cautiously.

purse!

What the monk threw into his arms was the purse he had stuffed into the other party before.

As if the monk finally threw what should be thrown away, he took another step with a calm expression on his face. This time, he was probably getting impatient with the delay, and coldly opened his mouth to the yamen, saying, "Get out of the way."

"Sir, this..." While blocking the person, the yamen cast an inquiring look at the master.

"Wait." The master took out a tissue paper from his arms, shook off the lantern, and said, "Where is this little master from? In which temple does he worship Buddha? Do you have a dharma name?"

The young monk frowned at him, as if he was too lazy to speak, and seemed to be thinking about something.

Seeing that he didn't know what to do, the master's tone suddenly became heavier: "Little Master, someone came to sue that you are somewhat similar to the court that is wanted by the world today. If you insist on not opening your mouth, we will have to take you first. Go back and check again!"

The young monk gave him a cold look, and after a while, he calmly said, "Dharma name Xuanmin, wild monk, no home and no temple."

Serious monks have never been like this, but those who say they have no home and no temple, in all likelihood, rely on partial wealth to eat, in other words, they are sticks.

The master looked him up and down, his expression was somewhat ironic, and then he shook the notice in his hand in a serious manner, ordering someone to hold the lantern closer to compare it with Xuan Min.

Xue Xian, who was busy in the dark pocket, listened to all this, and immediately gloated: let you bald donkey copy other people's nests, and now you will be copied too, right? Should!

There was nothing useful to him in his secret pocket, except for a peach branch and two flints, and there was only a cloth bag. After all, it wasn't what he wanted. Xue Xian was too lazy to delay any longer, so he wanted to sneak out of the secret pocket while the monk was not paying attention.

For this, he is somewhat confident. As long as he doesn't want to be noticed, ordinary people will never notice his movements. Xue Xian took the time for the master to speak again, stretched himself into a very thin sheet, and rubbed upward along the little gap in the dark pocket.

Who would have thought that as soon as he slid out of his head, he felt a blackness in front of him—

The bald donkey who killed a thousand knives raised his hand in time and used a finger to push back the paper head that came out of him!

Xue Xian: "..."

This naturally recalcitrant ancestor was crushed