Chapter 63: Meeting an Old Friend Again
When Zhao Xuanxu pushed the door open and came in, Wen Yao was sitting at the table tossing fruit. She didn't even turn her head when she heard the noise, and just said, "The hot water is in the back."
Zhao Xuanxu paused for a moment, then looked at the red spot on her ear, a smile filling his eyes. He placed the paper bag and bamboo tube in front of Wen Yao, opened the bamboo tube and shook it.
The sweet aroma of pear flesh hit her face. Wen Yao sniffed and looked down: "Pear soup."
"Moisten your throat," Zhao Xuanxu said as he walked towards the screen, took off his outer robe and hung it on the screen. Then he took off his waist belt and then his inner shirt.
Wen Yao stared at her reflection on the screen for a long moment, then turned around and sipped her pear soup, breaking up the pancakes into small pieces. After Zhao Xuanxu finished washing up, she pushed the remaining food in front of him and said, "Go back and take the others to the government office later. It's getting late."
His Royal Highness Prince Yan is stupid and has no interest in official business. He enjoys a carefree life.
When Wen Yao mentioned going back, Zhao Xuanxu's brow furrowed, and he even slowed down his pear soup, sipping it in small, visibly reluctant sips. Wen Yao didn't rush him, but sat aside and waited for him to finish. So, when the two of them returned to Qiu Huiying's residence, the first thing they saw upon entering the gate was Jiang Qiaosheng's gloomy face.
Jiang Qiaosheng was dressed in a goose-yellow dress, bright and beautiful, but her expression was grim. She glanced at Wen Yao briefly, then suddenly attacked. Without a word, she lunged forward and struck Zhao Xuanxu in the chest with a vicious palm.
Zhao Xuanxu remained calm, took a step back without dodging or evading, and raised his hand to confront him.
The palms met, and after a breath, Jiang Qiaosheng took two steps back. She waved her hands with an uncertain expression, and asked in a rather strange tone, "What kind of martial arts do you practice?" The blow was as hot as a burning coal.
Wen Yao stood aside with his arms folded across his chest, helpless: "What are you doing?"
Jiang Qiaosheng: "Hmph, I can't stand some people using coquettish tactics to coax you out."
Wu Peiming, Yu Le and others on the side were watching their noses and their hearts, wishing they were deaf and blind.
Qiu Huiying was also embarrassed, and at this moment he had to speak, so he stepped forward, coughed lightly, and said, "Your Highness, Master Kongji has arrived at the government office, we can leave now."
The ancient Huaici Temple, renowned for its vast collection of Buddhist scriptures, stands out alongside the Daxiangguo Temple in Bianliang for a reason. Its abbot, Kongji, possessed profound Buddhist wisdom and a heart for the world. One year, during a famine in Pingjiang Prefecture, a mob rioted and besieged the then-prefectural government office. Master Kongji, emerging from Cihuai Temple and leading a group of warrior monks, entered the government office unarmed, kneeling and chanting sutras. Their silent shields, they ultimately persuaded the people to lay down their weapons, saving the prefect's life. This also saved the imperial court from dispatching troops to engage the people, driven by the current situation.
It sounded like a legend. Since then, Cihuai Temple has become increasingly popular, and the governor of Pingjiang Prefecture has changed hands several times, with each governor showing some favoritism to Master Kongji. When the incident at Cihua Temple occurred, Qiu Huiying simply sealed it off, and the monks were never taken away except for questioning, until Zhao Xuanxu personally visited Pingjiang Prefecture.
Wen Yao had never dealt with monks before. Perhaps because Buddhist texts outweighed martial arts, there were few Buddhist masters in the martial arts world.
With some curiosity, she arrived at the government office and walked towards the main hall where the corpse was temporarily placed. Then she saw monks sitting in the yard in front of the house, each with a wooden fish and Buddhist beads in front of them. They sat cross-legged, and the sounds of knocking and chanting were intertwined.
She smiled and said, "Why are all the monks here?"
An official nearby was also helpless and said, "We only summoned Master Kongji and a few monks who live nearby. They insisted on coming here to pray for the souls of the dead, and we can't drive them away."
"Still trying to save the dead." Jiang Qiaosheng sneered, "Don't dead bodies lie at the Buddha's feet every day? If chanting sutras was useful, they would have gone to paradise long ago. Why bother trying to dress them up now?"
She didn't believe in ghosts and gods, so she spoke fearlessly, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for the surrounding monks to hear clearly. Aside from a few young novices who couldn't help but glance up, the rest of the monks didn't even blink, unaffected at all.
Wen Yao took two steps forward and saw an old monk kneeling in the front with a robe and long, snow-white beard. This should be Master Kongji.
Kongji is a rare tall man, and despite his age, he still looks healthy. His face fits the common image of a high-ranking monk: kind and benevolent.
Suddenly, an extremely strong gaze came from Kong Ji.
Wen Yao's gaze subconsciously moved and met the tall man kneeling beside Kong Ji.
Judging from his clothing, his arms and legs bound, and his body muscular and firm, he must be a monk. He had a bald head, scars from his ordination, thick eyebrows and big eyes. He knelt beside Kong Ji, but now he straightened up slightly and looked directly at Wen Yao.
It's hard to describe that look. Monks are supposed to be compassionate, but Wen Yao could sense a hint of malevolence in it. She blinked, and when she looked back, the monk was no longer looking at her. The description was the same.
Qiu Huiying stepped forward and said to the old monk who was chanting sutras in a gentle tone, "Master Kongji, His Majesty the Prince of Yan has arrived. Please stand up first."
"Amitabha." After the last distant sound of the wooden fish fell, Kong Ji slowly opened his eyes and was helped to stand up by the monk beside him. He put his hands together, held the Buddhist beads hanging in front of his chest with his thumbs, and bowed to Zhao Xuanxu.
Zhao Xuanxu stood behind Wen Yao, staring intently at her headband. His gaze drifted, his mind clearly elsewhere, probably still preoccupied with the spring tide on the river last night. Wu Peiming whispered "Your Highness" to him, and he finally came to his senses. He looked up at the monks with a slightly cold look.
Zhao Xuanxu didn't say any polite words to them. He walked straight to the next room where the body was placed.
Wen Yao followed and saw a row of wooden beds neatly arranged inside the room, each containing a skeleton. The bodies varied in condition, some with only bones left, while others still had some flesh. All were covered with a single layer of white cloth, naked.
The room was dark and eerie, and with the corpse rotting, the smell was naturally unpleasant. Two coroners stood by the door. They were momentarily surprised that a figure as important as the Prince of Yan was about to walk right in without hesitation. They stepped forward, took out a white cloth to cover his face, and handed it to Zhao Xuanxu.
Wu Peiming squeezed forward from behind again, smiled, and bowed, saying, "What have you discovered so far?"
"Most of the bodies have been dead for at least two or three years, and have turned to bones. There's nothing much to be found," one person said. "But the two new bodies were only dead a dozen days ago. The weather hadn't even warmed up yet, so not much of their bodies was rotten. Their families have already been found."
"Really?" Wu Peiming stepped forward, covered his nose, looked at the disfigured body, and said, "Who is this?"
The man continued, "That man has calluses on the insides of his five fingers, and his shoulders are uneven, so he must often carry heavy things. We found him by following the porters in the south of Gusu City. His fingers are thicker, and there are calluses on his left index, middle, and ring fingers—"
Wu Peiming understood: "The one who plays the erhu?"
The coroner glanced at the black jade pendant around Wu Peiming's waist, nodded, and said, "Exactly. This man was a musician at the North City Restaurant. He has a wife and children at home. He had been reported missing before, and they came to identify his body two days ago."
A porter, a musician; one lived in the south of the city, the other in the north. Their families claimed they didn't know each other, so how could they have died together at Cihuai Temple? Carrying a body into the bustling Cihuai Temple was already difficult, let alone burying them together—the noise must have been considerable. Yet, none of the numerous monks and warriors at Cihuai Temple noticed.
Jiang Qiaosheng was handling a case for the first time and was very excited. He pulled Wen Yao aside and gave him some random advice: "Those bald donkeys out there are no tricks. My name is Jiang, spelled backwards. If it were up to me, I would just arrest them all and torture them. Under severe torture, some will naturally confess the truth."
Hearing this, Zhao Xuanxu's face unexpectedly showed a hint of deep agreement. Qiu Huiying, standing beside him, sweated a little, feeling that the King of Yan might agree to this plan outright. He quickly said, "Absolutely not! If they haven't been convicted, why torture them? Furthermore, these are monks. We must not act rashly, or we'll probably incur criticism from all the believers in the world."
"So what?" Jiang Qiaosheng smiled at him. "The emperor doesn't like monks. These bald donkeys will suffer sooner or later."
Wen Yao slapped her on the head and smiled apologetically at Qiu Huiying: "Don't bother with her... Master Qiu, who is that person kneeling next to Master Kongji?"
"Master Miaoshan, the last disciple of Master Kongji." Qiu Huiying didn't know why Wen Yao suddenly asked this. After reminiscing for a while, he said, "This man is very brave. He once went up the mountain to fight a big tiger. He is the best warrior monk in the temple."
"Oh." Wen Yao rubbed her arm, unsure why she was bothered by Miao Shan's look. That glance had been too intense for her. His gaze was sharp as a knife, unerring. It didn't seem like she was just aware of Xingyi Sword Wen Yao, but rather that she knew her.
"Your Highness, I have something to say." Perhaps after hearing Jiang Qiaosheng's words, Qiu Huiying held back for a moment, but he finally spoke. "I don't know what the palace's intentions are, but the people of Gusu City have witnessed the upright conduct of Master Kongji and the monks in the temple. Although it was Cihuai Temple that exhumed the body, it wasn't necessarily the monks who murdered it."
"What are you saying?" Wu Peiming, a tall and thin man in a gray robe, tucked his hands into his sleeves and chuckled, "My master is here to investigate a case. Why do you say it as if you've come here specifically to embarrass us mages?"
"Those who died this time were all ordinary people, mostly due to personal vendettas, with no powerful forces involved. As per the rules, my prefectural office can handle the matter, so there's no need to trouble His Royal Highness the Prince of Yan." Qiu Huiying spoke calmly, his thoughts clear: "Your Majesty must have a deeper purpose in sending Your Highness here."
Only then did Zhao Xuanxu look up at Qiu Huiying, a look of slight doubt on his face, and said, "Too many Buddhas harm the country, so there's nothing wrong with getting rid of some of them. You studied and became an official, do you still believe in so many gods and Buddhas?"
If there really were gods and Buddhas in the world, all the sufferings of time would be Prajna, and there wouldn't be so many unpredictable things in life and death.
Qiu Huiying didn't say anything this time.
Wen Yao tried to smooth things over, saying, "Where are the families of these two people? Have you found out where they went before they disappeared?"
"All I know is that they're working as usual," Qiu Huiying said. "They're all native Gusu people, and they're all men. No one has actually asked them where they're going, so they can't explain it."
This is where things got stuck. Twenty or so old bodies had seemingly appeared out of nowhere beneath the walls of Cihuai Ancient Temple. Since the city's believers were raising money to renovate the temple, they were probably nowhere to be found.
Everyone left the house, and the monks outside, led by Master Kongji, all stood solemnly.
Jiang Qiaosheng smiled, then said with a hint of provocation, "So many dead bodies aren't cats or dogs. How could you not know they were buried in your own home?"
Master Kongji's expression did not change much. He just slowly chanted the Buddha's name again and did not speak again.
At this moment, a yamen runner rushed in with a knife in hand. After hesitating for a moment, he stepped forward and stood in front of Wen Yao, saying, "Miss Wen, there's someone outside looking for you."
Wen Yao raised an eyebrow: "Looking for me? Who?"
"I didn't say who it was, I just said I had a message for you." The yamen runner thought for a long time and said, "A full cave of moss money will buy off the wind and smoke."
Wen Yao suddenly realized something, clapped his hands, and said in surprise, "Him! He's actually in Gusu?"
It's really strange that half of the martial arts world has gathered in Gusu today.
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