Can women be Daoist priests?
As for sects, I don't know much, but I know women can become nuns, but they have to shave their heads, which is why many women are unwilling.
This female Daoist priest had very long, thick, black hair. She wasn't wearing a Daoist hat, but instead had it tied up high on her head in a bun, secured with a large bamboo hairpin (which looked like chopsticks). Two strands of hair hung down on either side, swaying in the morning breeze. Combined with her attractive face, she looked like a little fairy who had descended from the heavens.
"Benefactor, greetings," the female Daoist priest said, holding her broom and performing a single-handed Daoist salutation towards me with perfect politeness.
Her hands were quite delicate.
"May I ask if your temple sells joss paper?" I didn't dare to get too friendly with a religious figure, so I got straight to the point.
The female Daoist priest was taken aback and shook her head repeatedly. "Our temple is not a place that profits from incense money. We don't sell anything. However, if you're looking for some joss paper, we do have it."
Noble, not talking about money – that's what a true religious person should be like!
I followed the female Daoist priest into the temple. The courtyard was not large, with a massive incense burner in the center. Three meter-long incense sticks were burning inside, their smoke curling upwards, emitting a pleasant sandalwood fragrance that calmed the mind.
Circumnavigating the large incense burner, I went to the main hall behind it. Inside, several deities, perhaps Buddhas or immortals, were enshrined. Three prayer mats were placed for worshippers to kneel on. Beside them was a transparent plastic donation box, with quite a bit of money scattered inside, of all colors, but mostly hundred-yuan bills.
The female Daoist priest asked me to wait there. She went to the back hall and soon returned with a thick stack of joss paper. She placed it on top of the donation box, deliberately leaving the coin slot exposed, and then smiled sweetly at me.
The hint was too obvious. Fortunately, I had intended to buy it, not beg for it. I patted my pockets. Damn, I forgot my wallet.
It would have been useless even if I had brought it, as I had given all my remaining cash to Song Miao yesterday!
"Uh..." I said with a wry smile, "I'm sorry, Reverend, I didn't bring any cash."
"It's alright, it's alright," the female Daoist priest said, turning the donation box around. On the back, a WeChat payment code was pasted.
"How much... would be appropriate?" I asked. I couldn't talk about money, and I had never bought joss paper before, so I didn't know the price.
"Whatever the benefactor wishes. A dollar or two, we don't mind, or a thousand or two, we don't mind either. Your donations will be used for the daily maintenance of the temple, and the rest will be given to the poor or to fund students," the female Daoist priest explained. I wasn't sure if it was true.
But since she called it charity, I couldn't just donate a dollar or two. I scanned the code and sent a thousand yuan.
"Your WeChat account has received one thousand yuan," a notification sounded from the mobile phone hidden in the folds of the female Daoist priest's robe.
"Boundless Celestial Venerable, thank you, benefactor," the female Daoist priest bowed to me devoutly.
I returned the bow, saying that I should be thanking her.
After receiving the joss paper, I asked the female Daoist priest, "I need to write an address on the paper. Do you have a pen here?"
The female Daoist priest invited me inside, saying she could write it for me with a blessed brush from the temple. This way, she assured me, my deceased relatives would receive the full amount without it being siphoned off by minor spirits along the way.
I first wrote the address on my phone and showed it to her.
The female Daoist priest nodded, picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and was about to start writing when her brow furrowed. "Wuyi Lane? Xie, Xie Bian?"
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"How do you know this esteemed person?" the female Daoist priest asked with a hint of alarm.
"Esteemed person? Not that tall, about one meter forty, one meter fifty. She's my classmate's cousin," I replied truthfully.
"Don't joke with me," the female Daoist priest pouted. "This esteemed person died over a thousand years ago, and yet she's your classmate's cousin... Benefactor, please stop joking. Just give me the proper address quickly, or the ink will dry."