Chapter 70 Suppression
Cihuai Temple was located in the city, surrounded by a bustling market. However, the scenery outside the two streets was drastically different: narrow storefronts, low corners, and rows of houses crammed together like an airtight honeycomb. The yamen runner leading the way looked increasingly uneasy the further he walked, a strange expression on his face.
The Feathered Guards' movements were so noisy that the surrounding shops started to tremble, and everyone poked their heads out. Numerous women, dressed in lightly woven fabrics and heavily made-up, pushed open the dilapidated wooden doors and leaned heavily against the doorframes, looking at the uninvited guests without fear, their faces filled with flirtatious curiosity.
They smelled heavily of cosmetics, reminiscent of prostitutes from a brothel. But they weren't prostitutes; this was a whorehouse street, a place where prostitutes catered to boatmen and long-term workers. The world saw these low-class men and low-class women as being involved, and so, in the eyes of others, the women on that street were naturally even lower-class than the prostitutes in the brothels.
The doors of brothels were often tied with red cloth. A red cloth signified that a woman was inside, available to receive clients. The frank, honest, and erotic overtones were crude and direct.
The bailiff's face was covered in cold sweat as he walked in this alley with the Feather Guards and other people belonging to His Royal Highness Prince Yan. From afar, he saw a carving of a swallow with its wings spread out, about to fly, in front of a low door in front of him. He hurriedly waved his hand to ask everyone to stop.
According to Kong Ji, this is the place.
The narrow doorway was spotless, not even a single red cloth. It was locked, a rusty iron lock. Wen Yao pushed open the car door and jumped out. Just as he was about to push it open, a woman's voice suddenly rang out from the alley.
"Young lady, what are you doing?" the woman yawned, leaning against the threshold. She looked quite old, perhaps over forty. Leaning against the door, revealing most of her snow-white chest, her expression calm and relaxed. She wasn't afraid of Wen Yao, nor of the armored feather guards around her. She fiddled with her cardamom-stained nails and said, "This family has been dead for a long time. No one has been seen coming in or out. Who are you looking for, my lords?"
Her voice was high-pitched and loud, and it could be heard far into the yard across the wall.
Wen Yao glanced at her, then, without a word, kicked the door open. The door was locked on the outside and secured with a wooden bolt on the inside, but beneath Wen Yao's feet, it was as soft as tofu. The bolt crumbled to dust on the floor behind the door. The women watching nearby let out a series of high-pitched exclamations. The woman who had spoken first fell silent, straightening up with a frown as she watched the Feathered Guards file in.
Zhao Xuanxu, holding the hem of his coat in one hand, slowly stepped down from the carriage and stood beside Wen Yao. Wen Yao's gaze swept around the surroundings, passing by the raincoats and hats neatly arranged on the wall. A water tank nearby was full, its edges clean and gleaming, not at all like it was uninhabited.
It was obvious that the woman was lying, and her words were clearly a warning to the people in the room. She was helping Miao Shan, and it was unknown what her relationship with her was.
Wen Yao sniffed, keenly detecting the faint scent of blood in the air. Kong Ji was right. The person was here, he hadn't run away. Wu Peiming was always merciless. Miao Shan had been tortured and then fought, her injuries were only serious.
Zhao Xuanxu waved his hand, and the Feathered Guards on either side stepped forward, their sharp blades poking open a tightly closed inner door. The moment the door opened, a flash of cold light shone through, and the powerful blade slashed directly at the intruder's face. Halfway through, he called for a Feathered Guard to swing his blade and chop it down.
Wu Peiming looked at the force of the knife and almost doubted the effectiveness of the muscle softening powder he had taken. He became angry and pushed open the door and strode in first.
Inside the door was a single room, long and narrow. A bed sat by the door, and inside sat an altar, on which stood a striking tablet. The tablet was made of fine material, and the inscriptions on it were beautiful, lending the words "Qishunzi's mother, Yang A'mei," a solemn and majestic air.
Before the ranking, Miao Shan sat on the ground with her monk's robe draped over her body. One of her arms was soaked in blood, and her sleeve was deflated. There was no flesh on the edge of the sleeve, only white bones.
Wu Peiming said that removing one of Miao Shan's arms was absolutely realistic and not an exaggeration.
"You finally found your way here." Miao Shan's face was pale, his lips were also gray, but his thick eyebrows and large eyes still held a fierce look, his expression undiminished. He raised his eyes and looked straight at Wen Yao as if they were meeting for the first time, grinning and saying, "You killed him? After all these years of hard training, I couldn't hold you back for two hours."
"You're talking about the remnant of the Mo Society tonight." Wen Yao nodded: "Yes, he was killed. Do you know him?"
Miao Shan raised her palm and swiped the blood off her face, panting heavily. "I know him, of course I know him. That guy and I used to hang out on this street together, competing with hooligans, beggars and stray dogs for food. When my mother was buried, he and I stole money together to buy a coffin. He is my brother, Qi Shunzi. Today is the day we specially calculated, it's a good day. My brother and I will go on this journey together, and we will not be alone on the road to the underworld."
Wen Yao lowered his eyes, his brows suddenly revealing a look of indifference: "It was your father who asked us to come here to find you."
Upon hearing this, Miao Shan, who had been relatively calm just now, instantly flew into a rage. She slammed her still intact hand on the ground and roared, "Shut up! That old man is not my father!"
Zhao Xuanxu had an expressionless face. He took a step forward, stepped on his head, and mercilessly kicked Miao Shan to the ground, with the sole of his boot crushing Miao Shan's side.
Miao Shan's injured arm was pressed under his own arm, and he immediately saw white light in pain, felt dizzy, broke out in a cold sweat, and his teeth were chattering.
"He's not my father." Even so, Miao Shan squeezed out each word through her teeth, her voice trembling and her tone full of sarcasm. "He's full of hypocrisy and kindness. He was with my mother when we were traveling in the southern part of the country, but when my mother got pregnant, he got scared and refused to take responsibility. My mother came all the way to Gusu to find him, burdened with the stigma of being pregnant out of wedlock, but he ignored her and watched helplessly as my mother was forced to end up in this place by gangsters. Until her death, my mother never said a bad word about him... He's so heartless and forced my mother to death. I should have killed him long ago!"
So this is the situation.
Wen Yao listened, nodded, and agreed, saying, "He's definitely not a good guy. I understand you want to kill him. But what grudge do you have against the people buried in Cihuai Temple? Why kill them?"
Miao Shan's expression was grim, her tone revealing a stubborn stubbornness. "Why else could I? They've all been here before, calling my mother a bitch and me a bitch's son. Why didn't I kill them? I killed everyone who bullied my mother. As for the last few people, they were unlucky enough to see my face and recognize me as Miao Shan. Naturally, they deserve to die too."
He spoke with conviction and conviction, as if it were natural. Kong Ji had spent years pouring Buddhist teachings into Miao Shan's ears, but he had failed to cultivate a compassionate heart. He hadn't even changed Miao Shan's deeply ingrained street thug tendencies. His bestial nature was inexorable, he only cared about the size of his fists, not the laws of heaven and water.
Wen Yao went to look at the tablet behind Miao Shan. There was incense sticks burning in the incense burner inside. It was top-quality incense, and the smell was very similar to the Buddhist incense in Cihuai Temple.
"You buried the body in Cihuai Temple. Did you plan from the beginning to have someone discover it and drag the temple down with you?"
"No, I just want the blind Buddha to open his eyes!" Miao Shan laughed heartily as his face was stepped on the floor. "Look at the hypocritical faces of those people, look at the absurdity of this world! The old emperor wants to destroy Buddhism, and I'll give him the hilt of the knife to avenge my hatred!"
He laughed wildly, shaking the earth, and at the same time coughed up mouthfuls of blood. Suddenly, Miao Shan's chest made a frightening hoarse sound like a leaky stove, twitched a few times, and then stopped moving.
Zhao Xuanxu raised his leg and stepped on Miao Shan's shoulder to turn him over. He saw that Miao Shan was bleeding profusely from all seven orifices. He had actually died from severed heart meridians.
Wu Peiming stepped forward to take a look and said, "He's dead. What should we do?"
Wen Yao glanced at the tablet on the incense table, closed his eyes briefly, and said, "Take it back first."
People have died, and there should also be an explanation for the lives of dozens of other people.
The Gusu prefect and his feathered guards carried Miao Shan's body to the outer hall. Kong Ji sat there for a long moment, then stepped forward, uncovered the white cloth, and stood there, lost in thought. His lips moved as he began to recite the Ksitigarbha Sutra. After a few words, unable to stop, his fingers suddenly snapped the bodhi beads from his bracelet. The round bodhi beads tumbled to the ground, stained by the accumulated water, and shrivelled like cotton balls soaked in dirty water.
Wen Yao, clutching the Xingyi Sword, leaned against a red pillar in the corridor, his eyes lowered as he watched the renowned monk's distraught appearance. Zhao Xuanxu approached, his soft, smooth hair brushing against Wen Yao's shoulder, his gentle warmth spreading through her. Suddenly, he extended a finger to touch Wen Yao's brow, pressing it open a little. "We're leaving tomorrow."
It's a bit sudden.
"Yeah." Wen Yao raised an eyebrow, surprised: "So fast?"
Zhao Xuanxu said, "Something happened at the court, and Zhang Yun couldn't handle it, so he sent me three urgent letters over a hundred miles."
Is there something Zhang Yun can't handle? Are Grand Tutor Wang and Prime Minister Feng finally engaging in a fistfight in the court and the country?
"Okay." Wen Yao nodded. "I'll prepare it. When I came here, Concubine Su specifically told me to bring back some dried fruits from the old shop. I haven't bought them yet." After Su Yi became pregnant, she loved sour food, and the food in the palace was not to her liking. Wen Yao happened to be going to Pingjiang Prefecture, and the first thing she did when she heard about it was to ask Wen Yao to bring her some food from home.
The next day, Wen Yao got up early and packed his things. Qiu Huiying and Liu Suling, along with the Meishan Sect members, came to see him off. Bai Xiaosheng also stood on the city wall, holding his apprentice. The child was holding a string of candied haws, which he kept shaking at Wen Yao.
Kong Ji also returned to Bianliang with the Feathered Guards. With the corpse hidden in Cihuai Temple solved, Qiu Huiying immediately posted a notice. The news that the murderer was a direct disciple of Master Kong Ji spread quickly throughout Bianliang, shocking everyone.
There are those who believe, but there are even more who don't. But regardless, the Buddhist practice of hiding corpses has had a very negative impact, and it is unlikely that Cihuai Temple will be able to maintain its former prosperity.
Master Kongji, claiming inadequate discipline, resigned his position as abbot of Cihuai Temple and journeyed north to Daxiangguo Temple to study Buddhism. Central Plains Buddhism, supposedly a place of compassion, was suddenly plagued by a ruthless individual who had murdered dozens of people among its thousands of disciples. The imperial court, long prepared, acted swiftly, seizing the opportunity to issue an edict requiring all major temples in Tianshui to reduce their shrine fields by half and requiring monks to pay per capita taxes, the same as ordinary people.
There were at least hundreds, if not thousands, of Buddhist temples in Tianshui, and the sudden increase in land and head taxes was no small sum. The Ministry of Revenue had a busy time compiling the roster and collecting the accounts.
On the day he returned to Bianliang, Zhao Xuanxu suffered another attack of burning desire.
This was the first time Jiang Qiaosheng had seen him sick. He was a little surprised, shaking his head and stuffing preserved fruit into his mouth one after another. He said maliciously, "You don't look much better than me. You won't die early, will you?"
Zhao Xuanxu's dark hair was loose, and he was tightly dressed in a robe. A vibrant red crimson crimson spread from his collar to his cheeks, and the curves of his eyes were as sharp as knives. He listened to Jiang Qiaosheng's words without even opening his eyelids, simply extending one arm for Bai Rang to take his pulse and insert acupuncture.
He'd now mastered self-control, remaining calm even when he was mad. Unless someone desperately tried to throw themselves at him, he'd rarely kill. There wouldn't even be a fuss, at most clinging to Wen Yao for a moment. Compared to the beginning, he was practically harmless. Everyone in Prince Yan's mansion, including Qianying and the others, relaxed considerably. The secret guards, while on duty, sat on the overhead beams, easily sharing inexpensive food.
Speaking of which, the trend of sharing food among those on duty was started by Wen Yao.
Bai Rang relaxed a bit. While he still couldn't cure Zhao Xuanxu's burning heart, he could prescribe some soothing decoctions to alleviate the excruciating pain. Previously, Zhao Xuanxu himself had been unwilling to take the medicine or undergo the acupuncture. Whenever his burning heart struck, he would wander the silent Prince Yan's mansion, bringing misfortune to anyone who encountered him.
It's like a big boss in the dungeon that is refreshed as you follow it.
Wen Yao, sitting next to Zhao Xuanxu, couldn't bear to watch any longer. She reached out and pulled the large box of preserved fruit in front of Jiang Qiaosheng. This was the preserved fruit she had brought to Su Yi. Jiang Qiaosheng had already eaten half of it, including the ones in the car. If she ate any more, she wouldn't know how to give it to him when she entered the palace tomorrow.
Jiang Qiaosheng's eyes widened, and Wen Yao quickly diverted her attention: "You said you had something to talk about last time, what was it?"
"Oh." Jiang Qiaosheng remembered and curled his lips. "I asked Yuan Mei about it. She said that the King of Qin had connections with the Qiu family in Suzhou. From what she said, the King of Qin wanted to marry the eldest daughter of the Qiu family."
The Chu and Qiu families each accounted for half of the world's water transport, and this was not an empty statement. However, even so, the Qiu family was a family of merchants, with scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants. There was more than one layer between the Qiu family and the King of Qin.
"Is this true?" Wen Yao was surprised for a moment, thinking that someone like the King of Qin would bravely pursue love regardless of worldly concerns. Then he quickly realized, "Suzhou? Sounds familiar."
This time, the incident that Zhang Yun couldn't settle and hurriedly asked Zhao Xuanxu to come back seemed to have also happened in Suzhou.
In just a few words, Bai Rang had already removed the silver needles from Zhao Xuanxu's body. While packing up the medicine box, he urged Zhao Xuanxu to take a medicinal bath.
Every time his burning heart flared up, Zhao Xuanxu's condition was basically a mixture of irritability and fatigue, a contradictory combination of the two. He listened to Bai Rang's urging, sitting still, one hand firmly grasping Wen Yao's arm.
It was not until Wen Yao patted him and signaled him to leave that Zhao Xuanxu slowly let go of his hand, stood up, and followed Bai Rang out.
Jiang Qiaosheng supported his chin and looked at Zhao Xuanxu's back, then suddenly took out a letter from his arms and put it in Wen Yao's hand.
"Here." Jiang Qiaosheng raised his eyebrows and said, "If you want to read it, then read it. If you don't want to read it, then tear it up."
The envelope was unsigned. As soon as it was handed over, the fragrance of wisteria flowers wafting from it was like a spider web, binding people layer by layer.
Wen Yao then understood at once that this was a letter from Lou Chengyi, or Yelu Duhan.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
