fictionpage Chapter 8 Blue Tiles
Chapter 8 Blue Tiles
"Finally, I don't have to worry about going hungry anymore."
After resting for a while, Lin Jinian got up and went to the kitchen to start a fire and boil water.
Before long, a steaming bowl of clear broth noodles was ready.
With a little salt and a few homegrown greens, Lin Jinian ate with great relish, even finishing the soup.
After eating and drinking his fill, Lin Jinian washed the dishes and tidied himself up.
He took the newly bought incense and candles and went to the main hall.
Although the main hall was dilapidated, it was cleaned very well by Lin Jinian.
In the very center is enshrined the statue of the Three Pure Ones, although some of the clay sculpture has peeled off.
The colors are no longer vibrant, but a sense of solemnity still permeates the wisps of smoke.
Lin Jinian respectfully lit the incense and placed it in the incense burner.
Lin Jinian then took three steps back and bowed deeply.
"Honored Master."
"This disciple will certainly live up to Master's expectations, repair the Taoist temple, and bring glory to the family."
Smoke curled up and swirled in the main hall.
After doing all this, he turned around and his gaze fell on the leaky side hall.
"Now, let's get down to business."
The afternoon sun was lovely.
Lin Jinian didn't rest for long, clutching the few coins he hadn't even warmed yet.
We descended the mountain road again and headed straight for Wangjia Village.
The roof of the side hall at Qingyun Temple leaks terribly, but it was convenient for stargazing last night.
But when it really rains heavily, it becomes a water curtain cave.
If you can't afford new tiles, finding some secondhand ones from the village's old tile setters is the most cost-effective option.
At the eastern end of Wangjia Village, a somewhat old red-brick courtyard is filled with all sorts of odds and ends.
"Uncle Wang! Are you home?"
Lin Jinian shouted from the courtyard gate.
"Who is it? Calling for a soul in the middle of the day!"
With a slightly hoarse response, a person wearing a yellowish-white vest...
A gaunt old man carrying a palm-leaf fan came out of the house.
Upon seeing that it was Lin Jinian, the old man's wrinkled face relaxed slightly.
"Oh, isn't this the young Taoist priest from the mountain? What a rare guest!"
Grandpa Wang is an old bricklayer in the village. His skills are unparalleled, and people from all around used to hire him to build houses.
But in recent years, it has become popular to build small Western-style houses in rural areas, using glazed tiles.
His old skills gradually became obsolete, and the courtyard was filled with many old blue tiles that had been fired years ago.
They're all useless; it's a shame to throw them away, they just take up space.
Lin Jinian smiled and bowed: "Grandpa, it's just that the side hall in the temple is leaking."
"I was thinking of borrowing some of your old tiles to repair my roof."
"Repair the roof?"
Grandpa Wang took a puff of his pipe, his brow furrowing.
He looked at Lin Jinian with a hint of disappointment: "Little Lin, it's not that I'm criticizing you, but..."
"Your master is gone, and that dilapidated Taoist temple has no worshippers. What are you doing guarding those few run-down houses all by yourself?"
As he led Lin Jinian toward the pile of tiles in the backyard, he kept nagging and persuading him:
"These days, which young person doesn't flock to the city?"
"Our village's Er Gouzi dropped out of junior high school and went to work in an electronics factory on the coast. Now he drives a car when he comes back for the New Year."
"You can go down the mountain to work in a factory, or go to the city to do... deliver food."
"Isn't it better than starving in this poor mountain village?"
Lin Jinian squatted down, picking through the sturdy blue tiles that were covered in moss.
Listening to the old man's nagging, he didn't argue, but just smiled gently.
"Uncle Wang, everyone lives life differently."
Lin Jinian picked up a piece of tile and gently traced its rough texture with his fingers.
She said softly, "Qingyun Temple was passed down from my master, and it is also my home."
"A broken house can be repaired, but if a person is gone, it's truly gone."
Grandpa Wang paused for a moment while holding his pipe.
He looked at the young man in front of him, who was only in his early twenties.
He watched the child grow up; the child used to go down the mountain with the old Taoist priest.
He used to be skinny and small, but now he's grown taller and more energetic.
That stubborn streak is exactly the same as that dead old Taoist priest.
"Home……"
Grandpa Wang remained silent for a long while, then exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke, his eyes somewhat dazed.
"Yes, that's what you're thinking about."
He sighed, tucked the palm-leaf fan behind his waist, bent down, and stopped picking and choosing.
Instead, he waved his hand and directly picked up a large stack of the best blue tiles and stuffed them into Lin Jinian's basket.
"Alright, alright, stop picking and choosing. These are all tiles from a good kiln, they're very sturdy."
Lin Jinian quickly thanked him, "That's enough, sir, this basket is about enough."
"How much would you like to know?"
"Who are you trying to embarrass by bringing up money?"
Grandpa Wang glared at him: "What's a few broken tiles worth? Take them and use them!"
"When your master was doing feng shui, I wanted to give him money, but that stubborn old man refused, saying it was fate."
"If I take your money now, won't that old man talk behind my back later?"
"That won't do, one thing at a time."
Lin Jinian insisted on giving it to him, knowing that it wasn't easy for Grandpa Wang to live alone, as his children weren't around.
The two pushed and shoved each other in the courtyard for several rounds, finally taking advantage of Grandpa Wang's inattention...
He managed to press two crumpled bills, one twenty and one ten, under a blue brick.
"Sir, please keep this money to buy some cigarettes. I'm taking it with me!"
After saying that, Lin Jinian picked up the heavy basket on his back and ran up the mountain without looking back.
"Oh! This child!"
Grandpa Wang chased after the figure to the door, watching it disappear around the bend in the mountain road.
He picked up the thirty yuan and shook his head.
"He's a stubborn mule."
……
In the afternoon, at Qingyun Mountain.
On the roof of a side hall of Qingyun Temple, Lin Jinian was carefully stepping on the somewhat rotten roof beams.
He peeled off the broken tiles and casually tossed them into the grass below.
Then he took out the blue tiles he had bought from Grandpa Wang from his basket and laid them back on piece by piece.
This is both a technical and physically demanding job.
The tiles need to be properly aligned with their curvature, without any gaps, otherwise rainwater will still flow back in.
The golden sunlight shone on him, giving his faded blue Taoist robe a golden edge.
His movements were focused and skillful, and sweat slid down his cheeks, glistening in the setting sun.
A mountain breeze blows, and the pines rustle in the wind.
The whole world seemed to fall silent, with only the crisp sound of tiles colliding—"ding, ding."
The sound echoed through the empty mountain forest.
Bishuiwan Villa District, Villa No. 17.
"Sizzle—sizzle—"
The ear-piercing sound of the cutting machine stopped.
Mr. Li, who was in charge of the repairs, was a veteran with ten years of experience in the renovation industry.
He was squatting in front of the charred pit, holding a cigarette but not lighting it.
"Um... you two bosses."
Mr. Li finally raised his head and tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear.
Pointing to the pit in the ground, he asked in a strange tone:
"What...what were you doing in the house last night?"