When Xu Fengnian and the old monk arrived at the lakeside pastoralist camp, they found the newly pitched tents already dismantled and reloaded onto carts, signaling another migration. Longshu, the monk who led his horse slowly along the way, turned to Xu Fengnian and asked, “Your Highness, this is the fourth time you have stirred the killing intent—why have you never acted?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled, “Master, since you are a holy monk, surely you can tolerate the intolerable. They say the Buddha does not resent even when dung falls upon his head. Why should you quarrel with me?”
The old monk gazed deeply at this vengeful youth and smiled, “Your Highness is indeed a cunning petty man. But this hesitation between life and death is no way to go on. I still urge you to release this pent-up anger in one breath, so we may part ways amicably.”
This time, Xu Fengnian did not hide his thoughts. He dropped his usual flippant expression and said calmly, “The killing intent is real, but I dare not harbor the desire to kill, for fear you would brand me a demon to be slain by all. Later, when you return to the holy ground of Erchan Temple, a single spit of yours could doom me. I’ve seen the hearts of Taoist sages—Zhao Huangchao and Zhao Xiansu, both vile men, yet their cultivation realms were extraordinary. Everyone says Taoism advocates non-action and serenity, but I’ve no idea how such realms are cultivated.”
The old monk sighed softly, “Those two Taoist Grand Masters from Longhushan, in the end, could not let go of their family names, which is why they strayed into heretical paths. Like me, I often fail to keep to my original mind. Not seeking attachment, yet being attached—how can this be resolved? After becoming the abbot, I could not resolve many matters. After much thinking, I finally turned to countless Taoist scriptures and found that the four words ‘Dao follows nature’ from Chapter 24 of the Dao De Jing carried the greatest weight. Later, my disciple said one must see one’s true nature and attain Bodhi oneself. I found that idea excellent. My senior dharma brother and I once debated with two gathas, and when my disciple returned from his westward journey, he gave only an eight-character verdict: ‘Beautiful indeed, but incomplete.’ My senior nodded in agreement and then entered Nirvana. As for the Confucian adage—‘Do not do evil because it is small, nor neglect good because it is small’—it truly exhausts the essence of morality. This journey to Beimang is destined to destroy the so-called Buddha realm in the eyes of the world.”
Xu Fengnian frowned, “Fall from cultivation?”
The old monk nodded with a smile, “Letting go.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head, “I don’t understand the sudden enlightenment or instant Buddhahood preached by the white-robed monk.”
The old monk chuckled, “I don’t quite grasp the art of verbal sparring either. Otherwise, I’d speak some cryptic Buddhist words now to fit the moment.”
Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly, “At last, Master, you sound like a true sage.”
The old monk, holding his horse with one hand and a bamboo staff in the other, said softly, “Even so, I will not give you the Erchan Pill.”
Xu Fengnian opened his mouth, then closed it again.
The old monk whispered, “Ask yourself rather than ask the Buddha.”
Xu Fengnian smiled bitterly, letting the question about Xu Xiao, one he dared not know the answer to, sink back into his heart.
Then he murmured, “Whatever his intentions, since he is willing to fall from his realm, this journey of yours is truly a case of ‘if not I, then who will go to hell.’ The gilded statues and clay idols can remain high above, but it is you, Master, who walk among the people that are the true monk.”
The old monk silently reached into his robe sleeve and pulled out a small wooden box. Seeing Xu Fengnian’s puzzled look, the abbot of Erchan Temple spoke solemnly, “An old man likes to be praised.”
Xu Fengnian accepted the box silently, his lips twitching, at a loss for words.
The pastoralists, upon seeing Xu Fengnian and the old monk arrive together, were filled with both surprise and joy. They were astonished that the young Bodhisattva had returned, which made them feel guilty, but overjoyed that the Buddha had appeared once again. For this small, disaster-stricken tribe, this was a great source of comfort.
Huyan Guanyin and Abaoji ran toward the two lofty figures of Bodhisattva and Buddha. But for some reason, she stopped, while the child, full of joy, broke free from her hand and ran on.
Xu Fengnian changed clothes, took a pouch of water and food, and continued northward.
※※※
“Nanbei, don’t you think the peach branch you planted at the same time as you is growing a bit sparse?”
“Master, don’t trick me into peeing on it again to fertilize it, okay? If Dongxi and the mistress find out, I’ll be beaten to death!”
“You had the nerve not to go up to the Golden Summit and argue, making me travel thousands of miles and talk until I ran out of saliva—shouldn’t you feel guilty?”
“I’ll cook dinner later.”
“Your Insight still seems lacking.”
“Master, just tell me what to do.”
“The mistress said this morning that she divined it’s unsuitable to wash clothes these few days.”
“I got it.”
“So why are you still standing there?”
“Didn’t I promise to massage your back for half an hour? Only one incense stick has burned.”
“Oh. Seems your Insight is improving. Good, good.”
“Master.”
“Hmm?”
“The mistress went down the mountain again with things to buy cosmetics. She said a few days ago that many wealthy knights once pursued her, and if she had married any of them, she could buy boxes of rouge for tens of taels without blinking. Not like now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah!”
“Well then, since my master is away, he has some treasured sutras. You go steal them, sell them down the mountain for silver. When he returns, he may beat me, but he won’t dare beat you.”
“Master, that’s breaking the precepts.”
“You’ve already fallen for a girl and sworn not to become a Buddha—why fear this?”
“Master, the weather’s nice, I’m going to wash clothes.”
“Go on, go on. Still not enough Insight.”
The little monk ran off with a wooden basin and a washboard, sitting on a small stool under the sun.
Back in the Beiliang Mansion, Dongxi wore half a catty of red makeup on her face. The young prince might have been kind not to hurt her feelings, but the clumsy Nanbei truly thought she looked beautiful then. Since then, he increasingly wanted to become a Buddha, so he could burn relics and buy her better cosmetics. But Dongxi had a dream, and now he can no longer become a Buddha.
Clumsy Nanbei crouched, rubbing the clothes, feeling very troubled.
※※※
At Longhushan, a withered, thin youth knocked down the black tiger of Qi Xuanzhen’s disciples, fighting so fiercely the earth shook, then rode the tiger down the mountain.
※※※
In the Tingchao Pavilion of the Beiliang Mansion.
On a cool mountain, no wind, no rain.
Li Yishan, in the dark, damp top floor, was writing about the struggles between imperial and ministerial powers throughout history, now reaching the current emperor and Zhang Julu. He shook his wrist, accidentally spilling ink onto the rice paper. Watching the ink slowly spread, the chief strategist, who had lived in the pavilion for nearly twenty years, suddenly felt nauseous. He quickly covered his mouth, grabbed a gourd of green-ant wine, and swallowed the blood rising in his throat. Putting down the gourd, his vision blurred, the last line—“Since ancient times, emperors have nurtured powerful ministers; this dynasty’s virtuous premier serves a diligent emperor—how strange indeed”—was written crookedly, losing his usual precision.
Li Yishan sighed softly, put down the brush, placed it on the rack, and exhaled a thick, wine-tinged, bloody breath. He randomly flipped through several volumes of the empire’s geography compiled by the maids of Wutong Courtyard, glanced at them, then set them aside. With great effort, he stood, pushed open the door, walked to the eaves corridor, and after some thought, unusually descended the stairs. Baihuerlian followed him without a word, all the way to the first floor, then out of Tingchao Pavilion to the lake where ten thousand rare koi were raised. The pavilion’s servants were shocked and immediately notified the Beiliang King. Li Yishan stood at the edge of the pavilion’s foundation, swaying unsteadily. When Xu Xiao arrived, he finally sat down with difficulty. Xu Xiao, who had once been known with Zhao Changling as his right and left arms, placed his old fox fur cloak on Li Yishan’s shoulders and frowned, “Yuanying, your body cannot take the cold. Why did you come out?”
Li Yishan, still coughing despite covering his mouth, was gently patted on the back by Xu Xiao. The Spring-Autumn strategist looked calmly at the lake and smiled softly, “General, how many years have I followed you?”
Xu Xiao sighed, “Thirty-two years. Back then, I was a crude, lowborn brute, and few scholars were willing to serve under me, all shunning it as shameful. Only you and Changling, two reckless youths, came one after the other. I thought you two were either mad or up to no good. Later, I realized I had struck gold.”
Li Yishan withdrew his hand, clenched it into a fist on his knee, and smiled broadly, “General, Zhang Julu is a premier of greater ambition and talent than you and Zhao Changling. Having such a formidable opponent in the court, is it not tiring?”
Xu Xiao lightly patted his old partner’s back and laughed, “With you around, what do I have to fear? After all, I charge ahead while you scheme behind—what have we ever feared?”
Li Yishan smiled bitterly, “You, the hands-off boss, are truly shameless.”
Xu Xiao laughed heartily, “What can I say? I’m just a rough man. The only skill I ever mastered was sewing shoes, learned from old Song, which helped me trick a wife into marrying me. I can’t do anything else delicate.”
Li Yishan’s smile was serene as he squinted at the sky, “Back then, many urged you to become emperor yourself. I was one of the few who opposed it. If you had listened to my nonsense and decided to retire, many soldiers would have felt betrayed, even turning against you. You can curse me for it now.”
Xu Xiao shook his head, “Such a small matter. Besides, I knew I wasn’t destined to be emperor. It has nothing to do with you.”
Li Yishan coughed a few times, “Zhang Julu is formidable. In just a few years, he’s revitalized the entire court, creating a new atmosphere of enthusiasm. Though often criticized, he truly serves the nation. With a wise emperor on the throne, he has no worries at the rear. Especially in border defense, his achievements are astounding. Though several wars ended in defeat, under his arrangements, the eastern border defenses gradually reversed their decline. He appointed many capable young generals to defend the frontiers. Remarkably, he convinced Gu Jiantang to add two vice ministers in the Ministry of War to fill the gaps. In the old days, when he served as a border officer under the former premier, he was either a lowly official or a demoted one, but now he’s become sought after. This shows Zhang Julu’s skill as the empire’s patchwork artist. General, but Zhang Julu is not perfect. This purple-bearded, green-eyed man is gentle in small matters but arrogant in big ones, crushing any who oppose him. This will surely plant the seeds of disaster. The old aristocrats and Noble House may be gone, and the former dynasty’s nobles have lost their power, but two new scholar factions have risen. Their leaders were mostly forced into retirement or resigned due to illness. Thus came the recent criticism from the Right Sacrificial Officer of the National University, who called him a flute-blowing, eye-pinching, drum-beating, lute-strumming showman. Though harsh, they still fail to grasp Zhang Julu’s true intentions. This premier, who monopolizes power, clearly wishes to sacrifice his reputation in death for eternal peace.”
Li Yishan’s eyes suddenly blazed with vigor, his pale face reddening, “This green-eyed man wishes to see the Xu family’s downfall in his lifetime. I, Li Yishan, may be insufficient in success, but I can still devise sixteen strategies to counter it. Additionally, I have completed thirty-four proposals across six memorials on governing Beiliang, all left for Fengnian.”
Baihuerlian stood silently behind the two elderly men, saying nothing.
He knew this withered strategist was already gravely ill and had little time left.
Xu Xiao spoke softly, “Don’t speak anymore.”
Li Yishan opened his clenched fist, revealing a bloody palm, smiled, stopped coughing, and only a trickle of blood seeped from his lips. Exhausted, he closed his eyes and murmured, “Master Nan, I beg you, if Fengnian ever faces peril and the thirty thousand iron cavalry cannot rescue him, please intervene once.”
Baihuerlian said gravely, “Please rest assured, Master!”
“I can’t see clearly anymore.”
Li Yishan’s vision blurred as he trembled, raising his arm and pointing into the air, as if playing Go with the young prince years ago.
A look of regret crossed his aged face—he had been too strict on the child, scolding too much, praising too little.
The dying man leaned heavily against the general beside him, whispering, “At last, I can sleep well.”
He fell asleep and never woke. How great is life, how small is death.
Baihuerlian turned his head away, unable to watch.
Beiliang King Xu Xiao merely gently pulled the slipping fox fur over him.
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