Chapter 123 The Hellish Ghost Who Lived Nine Lifetimes to Collect Debts
The assassins left behind by Arslan held Xiao Yin hostage in the abandoned house for three whole days. According to the journey, they committed suicide with their swords after their master left Dahua.
Three corpses lay beside him, and a foul stench filled the entire room. Xiao Yinshi had not eaten or drunk anything for three days. The blood on the wounds on his wrists and ankles had dried and scabbed over. He moved his cracked lips and looked up at the dark figure slowly walking out of the bamboo forest.
The newcomer wore a faded indigo coarse cloth robe, and a few rays of moonlight filtered through, falling on his rugged shoulders. The old monk was well past seventy, with prominent, knife-cut brow bones and silvery-white eyebrows that reached his cheekbones, blending with his bushy beard to form a frosty hue, which only made his eyes appear even more profound and exquisite.
The old monk walked up to Xiao Yinshi, half-kneeling, and lifted the sleeve of the man before him. His rough fingers traced the nine suicide scars, finally landing on the fresh wound. He spoke in a voice that sounded like a Buddhist chant tinged with mist, "Benefactor Xiao, do you now believe what I have said?"
The few strands of grayish-white silk hanging down from the old monk resembled the patterns on a Bodhi seed worn smooth by years of caress, as if a hundred years of time had been contained within this small space of meditation. Of course, the time was not a hundred years, but more than twenty years ago, when the monk first met Xiao Ying.
The mountain temple was quiet then. He sat cross-legged on a futon carved from a camphor tree burl, his back slightly hunched like an old pine tree, exuding a serene and austere Zen air. The young Xiao Ying came to seek enlightenment at his mother's behest. The moment the wooden door to the meditation room was pushed open, a bead in the prayer beads in the hands of the monk Yunwu inexplicably broke.
Yun Wu's eyes twitched. He calmed himself down and said to Xiao Ying, who was only a few inches above his knees, "Your eyes are filled with the fire of the three corpses, and you have the Shura mark on your forehead. Judging from your bone structure, you have clearly been tempered in the pool of karmic fire nine times, and your resentment permeates your eight meridians."
Xiao Ying became interested, his dark eyes growing even deeper. He stepped forward and said, "Tell me in detail."
Yun Wuduan looked at Xiao Ying's palm and said bluntly, "Your every step you take shatters lotus flowers, and there are no benevolent lines on your palm. Instead, there is a malevolent aura swirling around it like a black python. Such a constitution cannot be tainted by the turbid air of the mortal world. Clearly, it is the spirit formed from the evil deeds of past lives, coming to this world to collect its debts."
Xiao Ying asked, "Oh? What debt do I need to collect?"
"It must be... a debt of love." Yun Wu's monk robe trembled slightly. "It's due to the ties from past lives, a deep and heavy bond of love. In this life, she will be reborn, and you will be reborn."
A debt of love?
An incarnation? Didn't she appear in the previous lives?
Xiao Ying pondered these words. Why was he asking for a debt of affection? He wanted a life.
The boy's half-closed eyelids cast a butterfly-wing-like shadow. Yun Wuzhi, disbelieving, continued, "You are burdened by karma, yet you insist on feigning a carefree, wandering spirit—truly the most wondrous appearance in the world. You do not believe that love can bewitch people; wait until twenty years have passed, and you will know that what I say today is not false. Madam Ban was my close friend in the past; I will do my utmost to help her with her request. Buddhism guides people, but such karma cannot be contained by a golden bowl, nor can it be transformed by chanting. If you encounter such a person, you should recite the Shurangama Mantra and retreat three steps to ensure your safety in this life."
After saying this, he handed the Sanskrit mantra he had copied to Xiao Ying and recited: "Namo White-Robed Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Front Seal, Back Seal, Demon-Subduing Heart Seal. Body Seal, Dharani Seal, I now recite the divine mantra. I only wish for your compassion to descend and protect me."
After Xiao Zhan left, the meditation room returned to silence. A young disciple peered in through the bamboo window and asked, "Master, when you see such people, you should avoid them as if they were snakes or scorpions. It's best to keep your distance. Don't try to convert them with compassion. You should know that some demons are so powerful that even Buddha could only sigh at them. They are just monsters in human skin."
Yun Wu sighed and said, "Namo Amitabha Buddha, may the Buddha have mercy and deliver all from suffering."
The tattered scroll of the Lotus Sutra on the incense table was turned by the night wind, the pages rustling. Monk Yunwu watched as the bronze xiezhi incense burner exhaled its last wisp of smoke, scattering mottled seal characters on the blue brick floor.
There is no solution.
Yun Wu's fingers trembled slightly again. As he raised his eyelashes, time turned. The young Xiao Ying had grown up and fulfilled the old prophecy. He was a politician with a heart full of ambition and an emperor who overturned the court. However, his iron-fisted methods and cold temperament could not break the heavenly situation. He was trapped in the deep net of love and died on the blood bricks.
The words "love tribulation" rolled through Xiao Yinshi's heart. The man's thin lips moved slightly, carrying a sense of helplessness. "Back then, I was young and did not know the meaning behind Master's question. Little did I know that there are countless ways in the world, and there will always be someone who brings the lotus fire to increase my karma."
Monk Yunwu said, "You were never young."
He was clearly a hellish ghost who had lived nine lifetimes, who had come to the human world to commit evil while wearing a human skin.
However, judging from his tone, Yun Wu knew that he was not willing to give up. He looked Xiao Yinshi up and down, looking him up and down, and sighed, "For one person, you don't even want the throne? You should know the principle that if there is no possibility, you should restrain your mind and discipline yourself."
Xiao Yinshi propped himself up on the rough ground, his cold, handsome features sharply defined in the dim light. "I had nothing to begin with, so I don't care about losing anything. As for self-discipline and restraint..."
Xiao Yinshi leaned close to Yun Wu, staring intently into his eyes, and said, "Even if it were just the two of us left in this world, I would still bully her so badly that she would never dare to run away again."
Yun Wu abruptly stepped back, pointing at Xiao Yinshi and saying, "Stubborn to the end... stubborn to the end!"
Zhu Qi, dressed in black, flew in through the window, knelt down in response, and said, "What are your orders, Master?"
Xiao Yinshi looked at his precise and clear palm lines, just as the monk Yunwu had said many years ago, not a single benevolent line had appeared.
"To seize something, first tempt it with its benefits. Sotaha wants a piece of land to spend the winter, so give it to her. Send word to Boriged: once the man arrives at Sotaha, trap her, regardless of the process."
Xiao Yinshi looked at the severed tendon in his wrist, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. He had been too mild in his methods during the power struggle; to deal with such a ruthless wolf cub, the most violent methods should have been used.
***
Looking north from the Chule River towards the Yin Mountains, snow-capped peaks float to the west of the yurt. Their color is like shattered jade from Kunlun, their grandeur like a giant god cleaving the landscape. Where the north wind passes, the grass waves turn bronze, and snowflakes flutter like salt scattered by the heavens. Occasionally, a hawk circles among the icy peaks, its wings like clouds hanging from the sky, its cry capable of tearing silk.
After many days of travel, from the depths of winter to early spring, Feng Tan and Arslan finally emerged from the snow-capped mountains.
Behind them, the snow-capped mountains stood majestically. An old man who had traveled several miles with them turned back, leaning on his horse, and sighed: "You two travelers don't know, this mountain has stood since ancient times. It has witnessed countless battles and heard countless Qiang flutes and willow branches. Yet the snow remains unchanged, and the grass remains green year after year. Only then do we realize that heaven and earth are benevolent in their indifference."
Arslan laughed and said, "I forgot to introduce myself while we were traveling together. I am also a Sotaha person, a grassland boy nurtured by the sacred veins of the snow-capped mountains!"
The old man stroked his white beard and said, "No wonder you seemed somewhat familiar to me, young man. Fate brings us together and separates us; I shall take my leave now."
After the old man finished speaking, as he left, he sang loudly: "I walk in the fields, the wheat grows luxuriantly, and all I hear are mountains, rivers, and seas..."
Arslan waved his hand in front of Feng Tan, which snapped Feng Tan out of his daze. He heard Arslan chuckle in Feng Tan's ear, "What are you daydreaming about? Waiting for the pursuers to catch up?"
Back in familiar surroundings, Arslan was noticeably more cheerful. He had been unaware that his gaze had been constantly fixed on Feng Tan the whole way, and now he was laughing at Feng Tan, who was in a daze.
Feng Tan also laughed and said, "The view is obstructed by the continuous snow-capped mountains. It's a bit hard to get used to the sudden openness."
When the two were crossing the snow-capped mountains, one of their horses froze to death. Arslan took the reins of Fengtan's horse and led the way, saying as they walked: "The Sotaha dome hangs over the fields, its blue sky stretching to the horizon. Where the horses linger, the sound of shepherd's flutes rises from the depths of the grass. This is my hometown."
It was clear that Arslan was a young man who deeply loved his hometown. The setting sun cast its light on his profile, making his features appear as if they had been carved by an axe, and a faded blue ribbon was tied to the end of his braid.
Handsome, kind, upright... Feng Tan looked at him, her heart fluttering slightly.
The two had a difficult journey. The snow on the mountain was prone to collapse, and they had to evade pursuers while planning their next route in the icy wilderness. The journey was both mentally and physically exhausting.
The Sotaha Khan's camp was not far from the sacred snow mountain. It took Feng Tan and Arslan about half a day to walk before they saw the scattered yurts. During this half day, Arslan's mood visibly dropped.
Feng Tan said, "Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the roads, frozen corpses lie. Now I understand even more why Sotaha is so eager to move south."
Countless people, young and old, have frozen to death along the roadside. Sotaha is located in a frigid region, and with the winter temperatures getting lower and lower in recent years, the southward migration of Sotaha is inevitable.
The difficulty lies in the fact that although the Dahua Dynasty, which is adjacent to Sotaha, has a vast territory, no monarch would cede land to Sotaha. Although Sotaha is required to pay tribute to the Heavenly Dynasty every year, this tribute is negligible compared to the value of the territory.
Arslan gripped the reins tightly, glancing back at Feng Tan, his amber eyes seemingly holding a starry sea. "Snow-capped mountains cannot be turned into green mountains. The people of Sotaha, who live forever, need new land. I will lead them to a peaceful and prosperous home, just as you will pave a bright path for them."
They are born stubborn, radical reformers, bursting with youthful vigor, living life to the fullest. The warm and pleasant temperatures of the Sotaha Kingdom next year and the bells of freedom ringing on the land of Daihuang are the spoils they desire.
Young people should have a strong sense of righteousness.
Feng Tan's breath hitched slightly. She dismounted, watching the distant yurts faintly visible. Her hair ribbon fluttered across her face, and she gently brushed it aside, her voice light yet powerful, "You will get what you want."
"The Third Prince!"
A shout came from afar. Arslan's childhood playmate, Aodeng, rode up from the grassland in the royal tent. His three braids fluttered in the wind, and he kicked up a cloud of dust behind him.
The brilliant sunlight shone on his dark face, revealing the ruggedness of a grassland dweller. He looked at Feng Tan, his eyes flickered for a moment, then quickly returned to normal, and said, "Third Prince, the King summons you!"
Author's Note: Thank you everyone for still reading! I haven't been too busy with work lately, and I'll try my best to keep updating!
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