That night, a terrible storm swept the valley. Lightning struck the temple’s grain stores. Famine clawed at the village. The disciples, once proud, grew thin and desperate. But the beggar — who had taken shelter in an old pigsty — did not starve. He ate wild roots, knew which mushrooms were safe, and slept warm in the straw.
Sesshin stared at him. “Why help me? I called you worse than a pig.” buta no gotoki
He entered the master’s room, carrying a bowl of broth made from muddy yams. That night, a terrible storm swept the valley
The beggar only smiled.