But along the way, many pilgrims could be seen chattering and laughing nonstop. Whenever someone took out something like a Buddha statue, a prayer bead bracelet, or a peace amulet, it would draw a wave of envious admiration.

“Did you see that? This peace amulet was personally blessed by the master. It’s truly spiritual and can protect people! It’s just a pity—if you’d come earlier, you could have gotten a Buddha statue.” The small, thin middle-aged man sounded a bit regretful, but then he smiled and said, “But it’s better than nothing. Don’t get your hopes up, only the first hundred people get gifts. If you want something, come earlier next time!”

As soon as he said this, a few pilgrims showed disappointed expressions. But suddenly, someone behind them laughed in a deep, muffled voice: “Look at you, what’s there to brag about? I have a Buddha statue right here.”

Everyone turned around abruptly, and sure enough, a tall, burly man had arrived, dragging a colorful Guanyin statue in his large, dark hand.

The small, thin middle-aged man was dumbfounded—this guy’s was obviously much fancier than his. Unconvinced, he asked, “How… how did you get that?”

“Heh, let me tell you, it was given to me by the master at the temple.”

“But you weren’t one of the first hundred, how could they give it to you?” The little skinny guy’s eyes went wide.

The big man laughed heartily: “You don’t know anything, yet you dare to brag. Let me tell you, I spent ten taels of silver to burn a stick of incense, and the master gave me a Guanyin statue. He also promised to place my father’s memorial tablet in the main hall, where the master will chant scriptures for him every day.” As he spoke, the big man’s eyes actually grew a little moist.

“My father was a boatman—he died in the river, and there wasn’t even a whole body left! But now, with the master chanting for him every day, he can reach paradise sooner, and I’ve fulfilled my filial duty!”

So that’s how it was. Hearing the big man’s words, everyone couldn’t help but give him a thumbs up.

“Truly a filial son. Though the old man has passed, he’s blessed to have such a good descendant!”

Hearing everyone’s praise, the big man’s vanity was completely satisfied. He was so happy, he practically floated as he walked.

Their conversation was overheard by someone inside a carriage on the road. This person was named James Carter, just over thirty years old, who had taken over the family’s silk business earlier that year.

Hearing the big man talk about his father, James Carter couldn’t help but think of his own. His father had worked hard all his life, building up such a large family business, yet never got to enjoy it.

As for himself, he had intended to observe a hundred days of mourning, but business was so busy that he only managed three days before rushing back to work.

Thinking about it now, it was all unfilial!

If only he could set up a memorial tablet for his father at the Tianfei Palace, so he could receive incense offerings—it would help make up for the regret in his heart, and maybe he wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night so often.

“Hurry, get to Tianfei Palace, I want to burn incense.” James Carter shouted anxiously.

The coachman, hearing his boss’s order, quickly cracked the whip, and the carriage sped up.

In no time at all, they arrived at the entrance of Tianfei Palace. James Carter jumped out of the carriage and looked around—there were dozens of people lined up at the entrance, waiting to burn incense, while young monks bustled about, attending to everyone.

James Carter frowned. With so many people, who knew how long he’d have to wait? He still needed to hurry back to Taicang! Just then, a young monk ran by, and he reached out to stop him.

“Little master, I have something to ask.”

“Amitabha, please speak, benefactor.” Charles Grant replied politely.

“It’s like this—I heard your temple can set up memorial tablets for deceased ancestors, so they can receive incense offerings. Is that true?”

Charles Grant looked him up and down. The visitor was dressed in silk, with a jade pendant at his waist—clearly not ordinary goods. Just the kind of fat sheep William Turner had mentioned. Not fleecing him would be a crime against heaven.

Thinking this, he quickly smiled and said, “Benefactor, please come with me!”

Charles Grant led James Carter around the main entrance and into Tianfei Palace through a side door, taking him straight to the guest room, where Edward Clark was sitting.

“Master, this benefactor wishes to set up a memorial tablet for his ancestor.”

“I understand.”

At this moment, Edward Clark was still immersed in shock. William Turner’s little tricks had greatly stimulated the pilgrims. In fact, temple fairs weren’t just for devout believers—many people came for the excitement, not knowing much, but thinking that spending more was better than spending less. The more you gave to the Buddha, the more blessings you’d receive. Even those who were usually stingy would toss in a few copper coins—not for anything else, but to buy peace of mind; participation was what mattered!

Those dressed in fine silks naturally didn’t want to be lumped in with the commoners. Whether burning incense or making donations, they had to outdo others to show their status.

Whether truly filial or not, everyone competed to burn more incense and give more oil money, just to be able to place their ancestors’ memorial tablets and let everyone see how generous they were.

Edward Clark saw all this and felt regretful—how could he not have thought of such a simple thing?

“Master, greetings.”

“No need for formalities, benefactor. Please, have a seat!” Edward Clark’s face was all warmth, like the Maitreya Buddha at the temple gate, ready to grant any wish.

James Carter sat down and immediately asked, “Master, I heard that as long as you burn ten taels of silver worth of incense at your temple, you can set up a memorial tablet for your ancestor. Is that true?”