The bathhouse is full of fog and the smell of disinfectant water. A monk in his thirties came in wearing a beige cassock and holding an Apple phone. I saw that he had taken off his clothes and was waiting in the big pool. He came forward and said, "Master, do you want to rub your back?"

"If you want, if you want," the monk promised, walking up from the pool, wearing slippers, and lying on the back rub bed. I took a towel and rubbed it carefully from his shoulder along his spine to his waist, buttocks, thighs, calves and toes. The monk did not bathe for more than a month, and the sweat mud was like a black spinning cone.
"You have a lot of oil," I said. "Do you want salt or soap?"
"What's the difference?"
"Five pieces of soap, seven pieces of salt"
"Put salt on it"
I scooped up some water from the big pool, washed the sweat mud out, grabbed the salt and sprinkled it on the monk's back, bent my hands into a nest, and gently patted it.
"Where are you from?" I asked casually
Shanxi
"How can I remember being a monk"
"When I was a child, my family was poor and could not support them. I sent them to the temple to make a living."
"Come on, turn over." I turned him over and began to rub the front.
"Be noble in your work." The monk said, "We monks share the souls of all living beings, and your work purifies the flesh of the world."
I just rubbed my hand near his scrotum and asked jokingly, "Master, I have a question for you. Do you think people like me will go to hell after death?"
"No, no, the tree you planted in this life will have good results in the next life"
"But I introduce the lady upstairs to the guests besides rubbing their backs."
The monk immediately pinched his face and put his hands on his chest. "Sin, sin, don't owe each other." Read on →