Chapter 78: Catching a Thief

Zhou Huailin’s heart trembled slightly as he held onto Old Zhou’s hand.

"Father, let me say a word to Qing."

Old Zhou glanced at Zhou Qing and nodded. "Mm, go ahead. I will wait for you."

Zhou Huailin then returned to Zhou Qing’s side and said something brief.

Zhou Qing looked at Old Zhou suspiciously.

The last time, on the street, Old Zhou looked at her as if they had an irreconcilable hatred.

Although it was far from the county to Qingyang Village, it wasn’t as if it were an impossible journey.

If Old Zhou truly missed Zhou Huailin, he could have easily gone back to see him.

"Third Uncle, the abbot will be here soon."

Zhou Huailin knew Zhou Qing had some reservations, so he said, "We’ll just have a quick talk, no problem."

After a pause, Zhou Huailin took a deep breath. "After all, he’s my father."

Zhou Qing said no more.

Old Zhou watched anxiously, silently letting out a breath of relief when he saw Zhou Huailin coming back.

"Huailin, Father’s legs aren’t too good. Let’s sit over there on that stone bench and talk."

"Father, what’s wrong with your legs? Weren’t they fine before?"

Old Zhou sighed, "It’s a long story. Father has a lot to say to you."

As Zhou Huailin and Old Zhou walked away, a young monk approached Zhou Qing.

"Benefactor, the abbot has requested your presence."

Zhou Qing glanced in the direction Zhou Huailin had gone, then smiled at the young monk, "Excuse me, can I call my third uncle over first?"

The young monk replied, "Benefactor, the abbot has been very busy with preparations for the Festival of Buddhist Offerings. It’s rare that he could make time to see you."

Since that was the case, Zhou Qing had no choice but to give up. She smiled apologetically and followed the young monk to see the abbot.

When Zhou Qing entered, the abbot was sitting at a stone table in the courtyard, drinking tea.

So tired!

I don’t want to work.

I just want to sit and daydream!

Life is so boring!

The abbot sighed deeply as he held his teacup. When he saw Zhou Qing, a wrinkle formed at the corner of his eye.

Wasn’t this the girl who had violently rejected a marriage proposal at the city gate?

Zhou Qing put her palms together in a slightly improper gesture of greeting. She took the basket off her back, set it on the ground, and sat across from the abbot.

"Are you here to sell flowers, benefactor? You should know that Qingquan Temple grows its own flowers."

Zhou Qing replied calmly, "Since you’re meeting with me, it seems you’re still interested in my flowers, aren’t you?"

As she spoke, Zhou Qing lifted the oilcloth covering the basket and took out a silk peony, placing it on the stone table.

The peony stood as tall as a basket, with five delicate flowers blooming in various poses on the branches, and dark green leaves covered in dewdrops.

The abbot’s eyes lit up the moment he saw it, and he reached out to touch the flower.

Zhou Qing smiled as she watched the abbot.

When the abbot’s fingers touched the flower, he froze. "A fake flower?"

Zhou Qing nodded, "It’s made of silk, resistant to wind and rain. You can use it this year, store it away, and bring it out next year with just a bit of dusting."

Zhou Qing didn’t hide anything and directly pointed out the advantage of fake flowers over real ones.

And this advantage was precisely what would strike a chord with the abbot.

"Not just peonies, I have all sorts of flowers. Some come in pots, some in bundles, and there are even ones that can wrap around tree branches. I guarantee the temple will be filled with blooms for the Festival of Buddhist Offerings."

As she spoke, Zhou Qing took out a few other silk flowers and placed them on the table.

The abbot picked up a large red rose and examined it carefully.

He had thought she was just here to sell ordinary flowers, thinking it would be a good idea to have some on hand for the festival in case of losses.

But he didn’t expect they would be silk flowers.

He had seen these types of silk flowers once before, several years ago at the Great Buddha Temple in the capital.

At that time, the temple was holding a Dharma assembly on the 19th of September.

The entire place was filled with vibrant blooms—silk flowers.

That scene had been unforgettable.

He had been envious!

"How much are these flowers, young lady?"

When Zhou Qing heard this, she knew there was a chance. She quickly smiled and said, "The price of a bolt of this silk is eighty taels. You can just pay me a bit for the craftsmanship."

The abbot immediately smiled.

With a kind expression, he looked at Zhou Qing, "You didn’t come all the way here just for a labor fee, did you?"

Zhou Qing scratched her head and laughed sheepishly.

The abbot didn’t expose her intention. "How many of these flowers do you have?"

"How many do you need?"

"You have as many as I need?"

Wow, what a big spender!

"Well, not exactly. These flowers aren’t easy to make. If you need a few thousand, I definitely won’t have that many. I have a hundred large potted ones, two hundred in bundles, and over five hundred individual flowers."

The abbot slapped the table with enthusiasm, "In that case, I’ll take two large pots."

Zhou Qing, who had been holding her breath, smiled brightly at the abbot.

She smiled and smiled...

But the abbot didn’t say anything more.

Zhou Qing twitched at the corner of her eye.

That’s it?

With such enthusiasm, you’re only getting two pots?

"Master, these silk flowers are of excellent quality, and I’m offering them at a fair price. Don’t you want a few more?"

I do want more, but the temple’s budget is tight!

The abbot sighed with a smile, "The Buddha said, one must not be greedy."

As they were talking, a young monk suddenly rushed in, flustered.

"Master, something terrible has happened!"

The abbot’s face darkened as he saw it was the young monk who managed the flower shed. "What happened?"

"Master, someone destroyed our flowers!"

The young monk’s voice was choked with sobs as he spoke. He had worked hard to nurture those flowers, intending them for the Festival of Buddhist Offerings. Now that they had been ruined, he was devastated.

Zhou Qing frowned slightly.

The abbot quickly stood up, "Destroyed?"

"Two pots of dark chrysanthemums are missing, and the rest of the flowers in the shed have been smashed to bits, completely unusable. Master, the festival is about to begin."

When the abbot heard that the flowers had been destroyed and the dark chrysanthemums were missing, his calm face immediately filled with rage.

"I’m going to see."

He nodded to Zhou Qing, "Please wait here, benefactor."

Zhou Qing quickly stood up.

Just as she was about to respond, angry shouts came from outside.

Zhou Qing looked towards the entrance.

She saw Zhou Huailin being escorted in by a group of monks.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hurried forward, "Third Uncle!"

The abbot’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at Zhou Qing.

The monks pushed Zhou Huailin forward, and one of them kicked him hard in the back of the knee, forcing him to kneel.

"Master, this is the man who destroyed our flower shed!"

Zhou Huailin hit the ground with a thud, grimacing in pain. He quickly explained, "It wasn’t me! I didn’t touch your flowers!"

Zhou Qing hurriedly said, "This must be a misunderstanding. My third uncle wouldn’t destroy your flower shed."

"Of course, it was to sell flowers! You were afraid Qingquan Temple wouldn’t buy your flowers, so you had him destroy their flower shed. You knew the temple needed flowers for the festival, and now they’ll have no choice but to buy from you! Such a ruthless plan!"

Supported by others, Zhou Huaihai walked in from outside.

His face carried that usual expression of moral indignation from a high ground, as if he were heartbroken over the situation.

He glared at Zhou Qing fiercely, then bowed to the abbot.

"Master, my guard personally witnessed this man destroying the flower shed."

As Zhou Huaihai finished speaking, a monk stepped forward and said, "Master, this man came to burn incense, and his guard got lost on the way to the restroom and happened to pass by the flower shed, where he saw this man committing the crime."

The abbot looked over at the person beside Zhou Huaihai.

"You saw this with your own eyes?"

The guard lowered his head, "I saw it with my own eyes. He smashed the flower shed."

Zhou Huailin could never have imagined that after just a brief conversation with his father, he would suddenly feel dizzy and lose consciousness.

When he opened his eyes, he was already in the flower shed.

The flower shed had been utterly destroyed.

A group of monks rushed toward him, angrily accusing him of being the culprit.

Kneeling on the ground, Zhou Huailin panted heavily, "It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t me. I don’t know anything."

Zhou Huaihai sneered, "Of course, a thief would never admit to stealing. Master, given the importance of the festival, we should report this to the authorities!"