The names of sects don’t matter; then what truly matters? Meng Qi couldn’t help but grumble inwardly. However, being aboard someone else’s boat, it was better not to ask unnecessary questions.
He remained as silent as gold and closely followed the young girl into the largest cabin. The interior was elegantly decorated, with calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls, cultural artifacts displayed neatly, and sandalwood burning quietly, creating an atmosphere of tranquility.
“Senior apprentice sister, the young gentleman has arrived,” the girl respectfully bowed to the tall woman behind the writing desk.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties, dressed in a pale red dress, her black hair arranged in a neat bun. Her eyebrows and eyes were as if painted, exuding a noble and generally cold aura. Yet there was something oddly unnatural about her, as if she were not a living person but a statue of a deity enshrined in a temple, completely devoid of emotional fluctuation.
As Meng Qi entered, she was in the middle of writing, each character as mechanical and indifferent as her very presence, perfectly rational.
“Unknown is the Green History’s vicissitudes; withered grass fills the skies year after year. Myriad palaces change with ancient and modern clouds; flowing light always casts strategies aside.”
As the girl bowed, she finished writing precisely, neither rushed nor impolite, as if everything was under her strict and precise control.
“Did the young lady compose this poem yourself?” Meng Qi asked casually, relaxing slightly.
The woman nodded gently: “Consider it my poetic name.”
Poetic name—how enviable… I lack such talent… Meng Qi remained expressionless on the outside: “My name is Su Meng. May I ask why the young lady summoned me here, and how should I address you?”
The corners of the woman’s lips lifted slightly, revealing a smile, yet Meng Qi felt it was merely a carved expression, devoid of any emotion, purely a polite gesture.
“Yue Zi Qing,” she softly uttered the three characters, then extended her right hand. “Please, have a seat.”
They sat opposite each other beside the desk, and after serving two cups of tea, the young girl respectfully withdrew.
“Please drink the tea,” Yue Zi Qing said, as if following a strict protocol for entertaining guests.
Meng Qi picked up the tea lid and gently skimmed the surface, instantly detecting a fragrant aroma. The tea’s scent seemed to relax his blood vessels, invigorate his meridians, and ease the discomfort of his weakened body and spirit, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.
“Excellent tea!” he couldn’t help but exclaim. Internally, he confirmed there was no obvious poison in the tea. As for other hidden dangers, he could always crush the Samsara Talisman if needed, so he wasn’t overly concerned.
Yue Zi Qing nodded lightly: “This is Flowing Light and Youthful Splendor Tea.”
Meng Qi took a sip. The tea flowed like silk into his throat, easing his fatigue, replenishing his drained vitality, and melting away the discomfort of his “illness” like early snow meeting the scorching sun.
Even if it couldn’t compare to the Great Rejuvenation Pill, it was certainly superior to the Hundred Herbs Pill. What a luxurious hospitality… Meng Qi inwardly marveled.
Yue Zi Qing sat there motionless, like a statue of a celestial maiden. Only after Meng Qi finished his tea did she finally take a small sip herself, then directly asked, “Master Su, do you possess a sacred Buddhist artifact?”
How could she sense that? Meng Qi inwardly gasped. Could it be because of the Lamp Before the Buddha that she invited me aboard and served such fine tea?
Seeing Meng Qi’s silence, Yue Zi Qing added, “It should be the Lamp Before the Buddha.”
Meng Qi frowned slightly and swiftly removed the Lamp Before the Buddha hanging from his chest: “Does Miss Yue recognize it?”
“It truly is.” A rare glimmer of joy appeared on Yue Zi Qing’s face. “In ancient times, it was crafted by my ancestral master for the Buddha.”
This connection… and her ancestral master must have at least attained the Dharma Body… Meng Qi couldn’t help but feel astonished.
Yue Zi Qing then retrieved another lamp from within her robe. Its flame flickered like a tiny star, illuminating a space with warmth and serenity.
“After my ancestral master created the Lamp Before the Buddha,” she explained, “he used the remaining materials to craft one for himself. Though inferior to yours, merely a casual creation, it still possesses unique abilities. When brought near yours, it naturally reacts.”
That explains it… Meng Qi finally understood. It was normal for his damaged Lamp Before the Buddha to lack a reaction.
Yue Zi Qing continued, “My ancestral master once heard the Buddha say that if Buddhism were to decline in the future and demons were to run rampant, this lamp would illuminate the final Dharma age and guide the true treasures. Therefore, I invited you aboard, offered you tea, and restored your strength.”
So this lamp indeed holds great secrets. No wonder even a Arhat corpse transformation guarded it… Meng Qi mused inwardly before blurting out: “Is Miss Yue also a Buddhist practitioner?”
Yue Zi Qing shook her head: “My ancestral master long left the Buddhist sect.”
She paused briefly before asking, “Master Su, do you know which word embodies the essence of Buddhism?”
Meng Qi, after all, was at least a half-trained monk, and answered without hesitation: “Emptiness.”
“Indeed. All four elements are empty, all things are empty. Worldly matters are illusions. Only by seeing through them can one let go and transcend suffering.” Yue Zi Qing’s eyes faintly gleamed. “Thus, monks study the Dharma, cultivate the Divine Palm, and refine the Dharma Body, seeking to pierce through illusions. Yet this is only the first step. Since all things are empty, even the Dharma itself is empty. The Divine Palm of Tathagata is also empty. If one cannot transcend and release these, one remains inferior, attaining only the fruit of Arhat. In Buddhism, this is called ‘Severing the Dharma Self.'”
She understands the Dharma better than someone born a monk… Indeed, she must have deep roots in Buddhism… Meng Qi marveled inwardly.
Yue Zi Qing shifted tone: “However, my ancestral master did not agree. Behind every illusion lies a reason. Every existence has its justification. To label something as illusion or emptiness simply because its cause is unknown is to stray from the path.”
“You, Master Su, must have experienced illusions. But where do illusions originate? They come from the mind interfering with the senses, affecting the soul. Though the mind seems illusory, it is still a real existence rooted in the Yuan Shen and soul. Though the Yuan Shen and soul are ethereal, they are still forms of existence among myriad things. Concepts like karma, retribution, and reincarnation are merely terms humans use to describe patterns they do not fully understand.”
“The Yuan Shen is a substance, the mind is a substance, just like stones, mountains, and seas—no fundamental difference. All things are substances. This is how my ancestral master viewed the universe and the world.”
She pointed with her hand, and Meng Qi followed her gesture to see an inscription:
“True and Unfalsified.”
No wonder her ancestral master left Buddhism… Their philosophies were incompatible… Meng Qi finally understood. Frankly, this view resonated more with Meng Qi himself.
“Alright, Master Su, please return now,” Yue Zi Qing said, ending the conversation and offering tea to signal his departure before Meng Qi could even speak.
Meng Qi was left utterly baffled. It was all so inexplicable—being summoned just to drink tea, listen to a lecture, and then dismissed without any explanation?
As he left, he finally couldn’t help but ask the girl in green: “Is Miss Yue always like this?”—so abrupt and without conclusion?
The girl frowned: “Senior apprentice sister is a bit… fond of lecturing others.”
Well then… What else could Meng Qi say? At least the “Flowing Light and Youthful Splendor Tea” had restored much of his depleted strength, though he was still far from his peak condition. Compared to being gravely weakened, he felt much better.
He boarded a small boat and landed ashore, intending to conceal his identity and head directly to a secret Six Gates outpost to lie low for a while. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a guqin—lofty, clear, and resonant.
Turning his head, he saw a pavilion atop a nearby hill. Inside sat a young man in flowing white robes, his head wrapped in a silk headpiece. He played an ancient guqin, beside him a brazier of sandalwood burning softly, with a servant girl holding a go board behind him.
The young man’s beauty resembled that of a woman, his face pale, as if he were gravely ill, showing no sign of danger.
Yet Meng Qi’s heart leapt to his throat—why was “Calculating the Fate of All Beings” here? Could this be his setup?
“My master invites Master Su to come up for a chat,” the servant girl called out.
Meng Qi hesitated briefly, then gripping the Samsara Talisman, he directly climbed the hill and sat casually in front of Wang Siyuan without any awkwardness: “It wasn’t your doing.”
“If it were my plan,” Wang Siyuan replied, “you’d already be dead.” He paused his playing and lightly coughed.
He picked up a handkerchief and wiped his mouth: “What are your thoughts on falling into this trap?”
Meng Qi hesitated slightly: “It seems to have been designed according to my personality. I prefer quick, decisive actions, direct assaults, and excel at sudden attacks. This time, I walked straight into it.”
Back in Yicheng, when dealing with the Tang Clan, he had fully displayed this trait with great success. However, once a behavioral pattern becomes a fixed habit, it becomes a weakness that must be examined and improved.
“Didn’t you notice anything unusual along the way?” Wang Siyuan asked without giving any indication of approval or disapproval.
Meng Qi clenched his teeth slightly: “When I found the paper ball in the innkeeper’s mouth, I did have a moment of suspicion…”
Because the situation was too familiar.
“But I thought I moved quickly enough to reach the scene in time, so going there directly wouldn’t be a problem. If there were issues, arriving early would disrupt their plans and help uncover real clues. Besides, setting up an ambush and framing me would require many precise conditions and perfect timing. Such a plan, relying heavily on a chain of events, is easily broken. So when I actually fell into the trap, I was genuinely surprised. Looking back, there must have been a very strong expert tailing me…”
Meng Qi analyzed himself.
“And this time, the plan only had three stages. My suspicions were minimal and not deep. The elimination of the coffin shop people was understandable—anyone would find it normal. Discovering clues on the bodies was somewhat unusual but still plausible. Had there been another stage, another clue, I would definitely have suspected something.”
Wang Siyuan listened silently without comment. Only after Meng Qi finished did he smile faintly: “What if I told you that no matter how you suspected or reacted, the final outcome would never change? Would you believe it?”
“Why?” Meng Qi countered with a question instead of answering.
Wang Siyuan coughed a few times: “Any elaborate plan that completely relies on a chain of events is easily disrupted, because there are too many variables. My nickname is ‘Calculating the Fate of All Beings,’ but I dare not claim to ‘calculate the minds of all.’ In such a chain scheme, your response was not wrong. Your mistake was not knowing the true intentions of the enemy or guessing who was behind the attack, thus failing to see the real plan. At such times, you need to step outside the box.”
“Therefore, when you encounter a clever, outdated, and seemingly foolish trap that actually succeeds, before dismissing it with disbelief and ridicule, first consider: what is the real plan behind it? Why would the opponent dare to design such an easily detectable conspiracy and yet truly succeed?”
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