Xi Yuan came down the mountain this time for one person.
That man was a disciple of an old hermit monk on Mount Tianshan. He had accompanied the old monk on a visit to Xiyuan. After the old monk reached the end of his life, the young monk descended the mountain.
Xi Yuan had a good relationship with the old monk, and when he foresaw that the young monk was in trouble, he came out of the mountain.
The Dayong Dynasty was already the second generation of emperors. Unlike the previous emperors who were devout Taoists, the Dayong Dynasty believed in Buddhism and made it the state religion.
Xiyuan has now learned to avoid trouble, wearing a veil to conceal her unusual hair and eye color. Although her figure still stirs the heart, she no longer attracts strange looks or accusations of being a monster and wanting to capture and burn her.
While walking around like this, one can also glean most of the information.
Three years ago, a young monk from a sacred mountain entered the capital. After communicating with the emperor, he was amazed and considered a celestial being. Now he is revered as a holy monk.
The holy monk's Dharma name was Wu'ai.
For Xiyuan, the capital city was the place where she had stayed the longest, apart from the fairy mountain. Now, a century later, after two dynasties, the capital city still seems as prosperous and thriving as it was a hundred years ago.
She had heard that when the capital fell, many loyal ministers and scholars, in a fit of rage, leaped from the city walls, their blood staining the city gates. But now, the city gates remained as tall and silent as ever, the gray bricks bearing only the marks of time, devoid of any trace of blood.
How short is a mortal's life! Even the smallest traces will lose their luster in the erosion of time.
Xi Yuan strolled slowly through the capital. On the street, a theatrical troupe was telling stories about a former emperor and his imperial advisor. One play, about a man who loved a beauty more than his country, drew cheers from the audience.
In less than a century, the deeds of Emperor Cangren and the Imperial Preceptor Xiyuan have become nothing more than idle gossip. The once wise emperor is now nothing more than a foolish ruler, a monarch who brought about the downfall of his country.
Xi Yuan was walking down the street when she suddenly felt listless.
After all, he was the child she had raised, and to see him fall into a situation where they would never see each other again, Xiyuan was not without turmoil in her heart.
It's just that I feel more annoyed than bored.
Suddenly, a monk came to the West Garden, bowed to her and said, "Amitabha, this benefactor, the Holy Monk Wu Ai invites you."
The holy monk lived in the Shengjue Temple in the capital. In the temple, he was no different from other monks, living in the same ordinary side room and eating the same simple and delicious vegetarian meals.
Whether they are holy monks, abbots, or young novices, everyone is equal at Shengjue Temple. The atmosphere of this temple is wonderful; it is a true place of Buddhist worship.
Xiyuan was led into the side courtyard of the Holy Monk's Residence, where Wuchen was immediately visible.
Although Wu'ai is called a holy monk, he practices Buddhism while still keeping his hair. An old monk on Mount Tianshan said that his six senses were not pure enough to enter the Buddhist order.
Even now, his hair is still as black as brocade, and his black hair is as white as clouds.
A pale white robe was draped over the young, upright monk. The phrase "a place of outstanding natural beauty" is not usually used to describe people, but upon seeing this monk, it was the only phrase that came to mind.
It was as if the essence of heaven and earth had been concentrated on him; his peace and tranquility had merged with the entire world.
Although the atmosphere was peaceful and reassuring, the monk, just like his name, was free from defilement and untouched by worldly dust.
Xi Yuan came down the mountain only after she sensed that he was in trouble. She did not believe that Wu Ai, who had already surpassed his master three years ago, would not have realized the calamity he was about to face, but his mind was still completely calm.
Are they confident, or simply indifferent?
"I was moved by the visit of an old friend. It turns out to be you, senior." Wu'ai slowly poured a cup of tea for Xiyuan and said gently, "I am grateful for your concern, senior."
Xi Yuan looked at him coldly.
The holy monk Wu Ao, even knowing he was a Buddhist disciple, could still captivate countless men and women with a single glance, ruining their lives. Among mortals, those who can rival the beauty of immortals and gods are extremely rare.
This also proves that he has excellent aptitude for cultivation.
A peerless beauty, unparalleled in the world, was right in front of him, but Xi Yuan saw only a wisp of black energy swirling around his spiritual platform.
The saying goes, "Dark clouds overhead are an ominous sign."
The wisp of black energy was so clearly visible in Xiyuan's eyes that it could be seen at a glance without any supernatural powers, demonstrating just how malevolent it was.
"Tell me what trouble you've gotten yourself into."
Xi Yuan said calmly, slightly lifting a corner of her veil, picked up her teacup, took a sip, paused, and nodded slightly: "The tea is good."
Wu Ai's expression was calm and serene, his brows lowered and his eyes lowered, with a hint of pity and sigh for the inability of mortals to see through things. He slowly said, "Beneath the skin is only a skeleton. Foolish people cannot see through it, and thus give rise to greed, anger, ignorance, and hatred. This disciple is guilty."
To put it bluntly, beauty can be a trap.
Xi Yuan nodded nonchalantly and placed her teacup on the table: "Come back to Tianshan with me."
Wu Ai smiled slightly, her calm and peaceful eyes like stones thrown into a lake under the sun, rippling with warm light. Her smile was captivating, her beauty too alluring to look at directly, yet it could not inspire any thoughts of disrespect.
"This disciple cannot leave the capital."
"Um?"
Wu Ai clasped his hands together and slowly said, "If I don't go to hell, who will?"
madness.
Xi Yuan sneered and left Shengjue Temple on his own.
The current emperor has five sons and three daughters. His fifth son, Prince Rui, is cruel, absurd, lustful, and greedy, yet he is favored by the emperor and no one else can afford to offend him.
Rumor has it that he took a fancy to the holy monk Wu'e and once flirted with him in front of everyone, even making physical advances, but fortunately the holy monk escaped unscathed.
Few people probably know that this Prince Rui once told the holy monk Wu'ai that if he dared to leave the capital, he would kill ten people a day.
Wu Ai had no choice but to stay, but once he did, he could only face the relentless pressure from Prince Rui.
He had already sensed that the King's patience was running out, and he was not afraid of Eben; the final result would be nothing more than death.
But some people, concerned for his safety, traveled thousands of miles to the capital, just to lend him a helping hand.
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