Chapter 390: Monk and Sword

“Come. I ask, you answer. ‘Since ancient times, those who love too deeply are left only with regret.’ What comes next?”

It was still morning. The Blind Man sat making tea while asking Xue San, who sat across from him.

Xue San immediately grinned.

“‘And this regret stretches on forever without end.’”

The Blind Man nodded.

“Another one led astray by that pig.”

“Uh...”

“The next line is: ‘Good dreams have always been the easiest to wake from.’”

“Never heard that one. Wait—are you calling me as stupid as a pig?”

Xue San finally understood.

The Blind Man lifted his teacup and took a sip. The tea did not feel especially pleasant. After hesitating, he put it down again. The weather had grown hot. Something cool would be better. He would have to find A’Ming later and ask for some ice.

“What I mean is that all of us actually possess a great deal of freedom. Within the limits of that freedom, everyone can do what he likes. But once you cross that boundary, it can no longer be allowed.

“What you did last time was basically the equivalent of dragging every one of us into the pit with you.”

“I got screwed over by Ah Li! That idiot didn’t tell me the whole story. And don’t give me this—you people were all waiting to see how things went with me too, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” the Blind Man replied as though it were obvious.

“If you were watching me test the waters, how do you still have the face to lecture me now?”

“Very easily. Do you know the difference between a pioneer and a walking disaster? Both are the person at the very front of a road. If the road opens up in the end, he’s called a pioneer. If he walks straight into a dead end, he’s called a disaster.

“So—you’re the disaster.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I came here first thing in the morning just to ask you for some funding. Did you really need to humiliate me first?”

“I had nothing else to do,” the Blind Man said indifferently.

Just then, Siniang walked in.

Today she wore a long purple dress with a phoenix hairpin in her hair, dazzling enough to steal the breath from a room.

The Blind Man’s expression paused for the smallest instant before relaxing into a smile.

Xue San did not react at first. It was only after Siniang sat down that he prepared to speak—then suddenly froze.

“Siniang, you advanced?”

Siniang picked up a ledger that had been delivered early that morning. She opened it while nodding.

“How did you do it?” Xue San asked, completely unable to understand.

“Just did.”

“Then you... Forget it, forget it. I’m not asking. A thousand people have a thousand roads. If I keep asking, I’ll probably get myself trapped again. Siniang, approve this requisition for me. I need these workshops built first. There’s equipment I want people to make.”

The men beneath Xue San had been personally trained by him. He also designed specialized equipment specifically for them. Such equipment generally could not be widely issued. First, there was little reason to. Second, they could not afford to.

“Fine. Leave it here. I’ll approve it this afternoon and have someone deliver it to you.”

“Good. Then I’m off. You two talk.”

Xue San stood and left the administrative office.

The Blind Man turned toward Siniang.

“Congratulations.”

Siniang shook her head.

“If you truly want to congratulate me, you’d be better off fighting me right now. We can see whether your mental power is faster than my needles.”

Every time one of them advanced, there was always an urge to immediately find someone and test the new strength.

The Blind Man smiled bitterly.

“I can’t beat you.”

“Boring.”

“I brought today’s documents over. I’ll trouble you with them again.”

“I know.”

The Blind Man stood and left without wasting any more time.

Siniang swiftly finished reading the ledger in her hand. After marking it in red, she tossed it aside and flexed her fingers.

The moment she remembered what she had said to Master last night—

*In this entire world, only Master is a man.*

Even an old veteran of the pleasure quarters like Siniang could not stop a faint blush from touching her face.

Those words had truly come from the heart.

She was not interested in men.

But she was, after all a woman.

And since she was a woman, she would naturally have needs. She might want to find someone and try living together, try romance, try speaking of love—whether purely emotional or mixed with the physical, there still had to be someone on the other end.

In this world, only Master gave her the feeling of being a man.

Even if she did not love Master not with the love between man and woman she had no other choice.

Did that count as love?

Siniang herself did not know.

When she got out of bed this morning, Master had still been sleeping heavily.

What exactly did loving someone feel like?

Siniang did not know the answer.

But when she had risen and seen him lying there looking as though his entire body had been hollowed out she had genuinely felt an enormous sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

Then she opened the second ledger.

Her eyes immediately turned cold.

The goose-feather pen dipped in red pigment drew a huge circle around one section.

That circle meant someone was going to die again.

Siniang remembered something the Blind Man had once said to her.

Dirty hands could never all be cut off.

Cut one batch away, and another would grow back.

The Blind Man had said:

*A body becomes dirty again after bathing. Does that mean you should never bathe at all?*

Master had said he wanted to visit Jiangnan in the State of Qian someday, wander around, relax.

Truthfully, Siniang wanted to go too.

They had circled all the way from the westernmost edge of the State of Yan to the eastern edge of Jin territory. The scenery kept changing.

The roughness inside the Red Tents did not.

It seemed only in Jiangnan of Qian could one find the true refinement of elegant pleasure houses.

Unfortunately, the work in her hands still had not been settled.

If she wanted to go traveling, she would at least have to wait until everything at Snow Sea Pass entered the proper track.

Master’s status was different now as well.

If something happened to him outside that would no longer be a small matter.

Siniang sighed.

Then opened the third ledger.

...

“Master, this must be Snow Sea Pass. Look! They’re carrying out enormous construction works. The people have been driven into misery!”

It was the middle of the morning.

*Thwack!*

The old monk immediately rapped his disciple on the bald head.

The little monk covered his scalp, looking deeply wronged.

“Liaofan, I have told you before: read more books, but never believe every word in them.”

“But this place clearly...”

“Does large-scale construction automatically mean the people are miserable? Look around. The common people are working hard, yes, but there is no listlessness on their faces. Their expressions clearly show that there is Buddha within their hearts.”

Here, *Buddha in the heart* could simply be understood as hope.

“But all people suffer. To drive them into labor like this, how can—”

The old monk Kongyuan immediately raised his hand for another rap. Seeing that his disciple was still covering his head, however, he bent his knee instead and slapped the boy viciously across the backside.

“Ah!”

Little Monk Liaofan immediately covered his bottom too, looking even more aggrieved.

“Why are you arguing with your master? If everyone in the world cultivated Buddhism and worshipped Buddha, who would grow the grain for us to eat? Who would build Buddhist halls? Who would sculpt the statues?

“The Buddhist path is one of hardship, yes. But add the word ‘pure’ before hardship and suddenly it doesn’t sound nearly so miserable. It becomes a kind of refinement.”

“Master, you’re twisting Buddhist doctrine.”

“You and I are both Buddhas. All living beings are Buddhas. Where, then, is there one single Buddhism everyone must obey?”

“Master, I can’t argue with you.”

“Then control your mouth. Look at those armored soldiers patrolling over there. Look at that side—those are clearly barbarian tents. And beneath that mountain are savage slaves.

“This Count Pingye is obviously a lord soaked in killing intent. Once we go inside, if you keep spouting nonsense, don’t assume people will think you’re young and adorable and therefore forgive you.”

“Master, your disciple understands.”

“Good. Go present our ordination certificates.”

“But there isn’t even a temple here.”

“Now that we’re here, the temple has arrived.”

“But our ordination certificates were issued by a Chu yamen. We’re monks officially recognized by the State of Chu. If we walk up to Yan people holding documents issued by Chu, Master, aren’t you afraid they’ll—”

“Then we shall say we represent the monks of Chu in returning to the embrace of our true Great Yan.”

“...”

Little Monk Liaofan stared at him.

“Why aren’t you moving?”

“Master, you really have no shame.”

“Go!”

Kongyuan kicked him forward.

...

“Master.”

“Back already?”

“Mm. I asked the yamen runner over there. He said the Count’s Residence does accept charlatans like us.”

“Charlatan my bald head! Charlatan my bald head!”

Two more hard knocks landed in succession.

Two visibly red lumps immediately appeared on Liaofan’s scalp.

“Master, that’s what they called us.”

“Do they provide vegetarian meals?”

“They feed us and give us a place to stay.”

“Where?”

“There’s a place inside the city called the **Temple Bureau**.”

“Then let’s go.”

“But they called us charlatans.”

“Your master is hungry!”

Kongyuan led the little monk into Snow Sea Pass.

They encountered little obstruction at the city gate. Once inside, however, the smells drifting from shops along both sides of the street immediately caused the “five-viscera temples” inside both monks’ stomachs to begin chanting scripture.

Unfortunately, the Temple Bureau was near the northern gate.

The master and disciple still had quite a distance to walk.

Just then, a formation of children came running down the road ahead.

There were roughly eight hundred of them, all boys around thirteen or fourteen years old. Every one wore the same gray training clothes and identical boots.

A Lieutenant Commander in armor ran at the head of the formation.

Seeing the scene, Kongyuan instinctively stopped and watched row after row of children pass.

“Master, I’m hungry.”

Liaofan urged the old monk to hurry toward the promised vegetarian meal.

Kongyuan smacked his lips.

“Interesting. Those eight hundred children who just passed are about your age. Did you notice anything?”

“Notice what?”

“There is baleful qi on them.”

“They look stupid?”

*Thwack!*

Another rap landed on his skull.

“Ow!”

“Baleful qi! Not stupidity! When the ancestors possess spirit, their descendants offer them blood and food. The ancestors then protect their descendants. Such is part of the proper order between yin and yang.”

“What’s strange about that, Master? Who doesn’t have ancestors?”

“These children are different. I keep telling you to learn more and observe more, yet all you know is eating. Look at what little ambition you have.”

“What mysterious nonsense are you muttering now?”

A laborer pushing a handcart happened to pass nearby. Hearing them, he laughed.

“That group just now belongs to the Charitable Hall at the school. They were all orphans originally, adopted by the Count’s Residence. Later, when soldiers died in battle without descendants, their compensation money was donated to the school. One child would be selected from among the orphans, take the dead soldier’s surname, and be adopted into his line.

“So yes, they had no fathers or mothers originally. But every one of their homes now has an ancestral tablet.”

Kongyuan nodded thoughtfully.

“No wonder. No wonder.”

“Heh. You two monks are heading to the Temple Bureau, aren’t you?” the laborer asked.

“Indeed.”

“That’s about the only place you can go. Anywhere else in Snow Sea Pass and you won’t be able to scrounge a meal. We don’t feed idlers here. If you want to idle, you don’t eat.

“The Count’s Residence allows us to burn paper offerings and honor the dead, but they don’t allow monks and Daoists to go around performing rituals for money. Catch one and they lock one up. They call it... what was it? Breaking feudal superstition.”

“Master, what does ‘feudal superstition’ mean?” Liaofan asked.

“Absolute nonsense.”

Kongyuan clasped his palms toward the laborer.

“Amitabha. Many thanks to this benefactor for clearing our confusion.”

“Enough. I’ve still got goods to deliver to the next street. The Temple Bureau is straight ahead. Turn left at the next intersection and you’ll see it.”

“Many thanks, benefactor.”

Following the laborer’s directions, Kongyuan soon reached the Temple Bureau with his disciple.

Nobody guarded the entrance.

The doorway was small.

The signboard was small.

A pork shop stood on one side.

A mutton restaurant on the other.

Both looked grander than the Temple Bureau itself.

Once they entered, they found a small table just inside the inner doorway. A clerk sat behind it yawning.

Seeing two people arrive—and then noticing the kasayas they wore—the clerk opened the register in front of him, picked up his brush, and asked:

“Names, native places, where you’ve traveled. Explain everything carefully. No mistakes.”

“This humble monk is Kongyuan. This is my disciple, Liaofan. I am a man of Qian. I took Buddhist vows in the State of Qian and later entered Chu, where I received an ordination certificate. Here it is.”

The clerk accepted the document Kongyuan handed him, glanced over it without treating it as especially important, then returned it.

“A monk, are you? Recite a few passages of scripture for me. No muddled mumbling. Speak loudly.”

Kongyuan motioned for his disciple to go forward.

Liaofan stepped to the desk and began reciting scripture.

Every word came out clear and proper without the slightest hesitation. More strangely, listening to the sutra gradually calmed the mind. Even under the fierce summer heat, one could feel a faint trace of coolness.

The clerk listened for a while.

Almost reluctantly, he eventually raised one hand.

“Enough. Good. Take these two tokens and go inside. The main room in the inner courtyard is the lecture hall. Turn left for the dining hall and right for the sleeping quarters. Someone inside will arrange the rest for you.”

“Many thanks, benefactor.”

“Many thanks, benefactor.”

Kongyuan led his disciple inside.

Neither man hesitated.

They turned left immediately and entered the dining hall.

The mealtime had already passed, so few people remained inside. Only two women were still busy with chores.

When they saw the monks, one of them called out:

“Only steamed buns left.”

“Steamed buns are excellent,” Kongyuan said.

“Steamed buns are very excellent,” Liaofan added.

Six buns were brought over.

They were already cold, but paired with hot water, both monks ate with great satisfaction.

Just as they finished and prepared to leave, an armored soldier came inside and pointed at them.

“You’re the newcomers, right? Come. Class is starting in the back.”

“Is some virtuous eminent monk teaching Buddhism here?” Kongyuan asked.

Among people outside conventional society, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism formed the three largest currents, though many other teachings existed. Regardless of school, great teachers inevitably traveled and lectured in order to spread doctrine and attract disciples.

The soldier laughed.

“You’ll know when you get there. Hurry up. Don’t dawdle.”

The master and disciple did not delay.

When they entered, they discovered several dozen people already seated inside.

Some wore Daoist robes.

Some wore kasayas.

Others wore every imaginable kind of strange clothing.

All sat there listening with intense seriousness.

The person teaching them was not some eminent monk.

He was a blind man.

The Blind Man looked fairly young. His eyes remained shut, yet his speech was precise and orderly and carried a strangely comfortable quality.

Kongyuan and Liaofan found two cushions and sat down.

What the Blind Man taught could not be called Buddhist doctrine.

Nor was it Daoist scripture.

Yet it remained inseparable from both.

One could even find the shadows of many other religions and schools inside it.

Though so many things had been blended together, the result did not sound chaotic or cumbersome at all. The structure was clear. Examples and quotations were brought in from every side. Listening to it naturally made a person feel—

*Yes.*

*That must be how things are.*

As the lecture continued, Liaofan’s expression gradually became intoxicated.

Kongyuan’s frown deepened.

He immediately reached out and pinched his disciple.

Liaofan did not seem to notice.

He remained completely absorbed.

“Amitabha.”

Kongyuan quietly recited the Buddha’s name. His fingers formed a Buddhist seal, then pressed directly between his disciple’s brows.

Only then did Liaofan suddenly wake.

A heartbeat later he sucked in a sharp breath.

The place where his master had pinched him really hurt now.

“Master?”

“Go!”

Kongyuan immediately seized his disciple and dragged him outside.

At that moment, the Blind Man, who was still lecturing at the front revealed a faint, meaningful smile.

When Kongyuan dragged Liaofan toward the Temple Bureau’s outer gate, the clerk seated near the entrance saw them leaving but did not stop them.

He merely warned:

“If you walk out that door, you won’t be allowed to come back here later just to eat and sleep for free.”

“Master, we’re not leaving!”

Liaofan immediately grabbed his teacher.

“Heh.”

Old Monk Kongyuan gave a quiet laugh and glanced back toward the lecture hall.

“If you stay in a place that devours the mind like this, he’ll swallow you from head to toe. What need would your stomach still have to eat?”

With that, Kongyuan forcibly dragged Liaofan out of the Temple Bureau.

On the second floor of a mutton-soup restaurant next door sat Count Zheng, who had awakened late today and come outside for breakfast.

A’Ming sat beside him.

“Oh? That’s strange. He actually managed to crawl out again after entering the Blind Man’s mouth.”

Count Zheng gnawed on a sheep bone while pointing toward the street below.

A’Ming glanced outside.

“Perhaps he genuinely has cultivation.”

“Well, that’s obvious. Without some cultivation, how could he get out? Still, it would be a shame to recruit nothing but useless frauds. Some real practitioners mixed among the fake ones will probably make the whole thing work better.”

“Master, should this subordinate go down and stop them?”

“No rush. No rush. They’re still inside the city. Oh? He looked up. He’s staring at you, A’Ming. Tell me—did you expose killing intent just now?”

The old monk on the street below had indeed raised his head toward the second floor.

“This subordinate was worried he might be an assassin.”

True great experts existed in this world.

Against armies, their usefulness might not be especially large. A sea of soldiers could still drown them.

But under certain conditions astonishing individual strength could produce miraculous results.

The Sword Saint had assassinated Old Situ and later killed Gelimu outside Snow Sea Pass with one sword.

Master Zang and Baili Feng had once gone to Yanjing together, forcing the entire Imperial Guard into a state of high alert.

Sha Tuo Queshi had died fighting outside the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence. But if he had been more flexible and simply specialized in assassinating the Princess, then afterward the Princess would have had to think extremely carefully every time she left home.

That was exactly why Count Zheng dragged Sha Tuo Queshi’s coffin everywhere he went.

And why he spent so much effort flattering the Sword Saint.

You needed armies.

But you also needed a top-tier trump card beside you.

Otherwise, if somebody decided to perform another *Jing Ke attempts to assassinate the King of Qin*, where would you go cry afterward?

Why was the Marquis of Jingnan so terrifying?

Because he not only commanded thousands upon thousands of troops his personal strength had also defeated the Sword Saint.

That was what true invulnerability looked like.

“Master, what are you looking at?” Liaofan asked.

“Haaah. It seems coming to Snow Sea Pass was a mistake.”

“Then let’s leave, Master. We’re already full anyway. Perfect time to run.”

“Going up the mountain is easy. Coming down is hard.”

With that, Old Monk Kongyuan took his disciple by the hand and entered the mutton-soup restaurant.

The sight of monks entering a place that served mutton immediately attracted plenty of looks.

Kongyuan ignored them all.

He led his disciple straight upstairs.

The moment they reached the second-floor steps—before they had even seen the layout properly more than a dozen military crossbows were pointed directly at them.

At such close range, their killing power was horrifying.

Little Monk Liaofan began trembling immediately.

He was still young.

How could he possibly remain calm before a scene like this?

Old Monk Kongyuan, by contrast, stood freely and naturally, showing no fear.

Zheng Fan kept chewing the sheep bone as he called:

“What’s this? Monks want to come upstairs and break the meat taboo too?”

Kongyuan clasped his palms.

“This humble monk came to bid farewell to Benefactor.”

Zheng Fan tossed aside the nearly clean leg bone, picked up a cloth, and wiped his hands.

“You only just arrived and already want to leave. Wouldn’t that mean this Count’s hospitality was inadequate?”

Liaofan’s eyes widened instantly.

This was Count Pingye!

Kongyuan bowed.

“This humble monk originally thought Count Pingye’s land might be a pure realm. Who would have imagined the Count had already carved ravines within his heart and built another fence outside the world beyond the world?”

The implication was obvious.

He was referring to Zheng Fan gathering all these monks, Daoists, and “charlatans” under his control, then reforming and using them.

Whether genuine or fake, nominally these were all people who had “left the household.”

Even emperors and generals did not necessarily require ordained monks to kneel, because such people were supposedly outside ordinary worldly constraints.

Yet Count Pingye had decided to put his hands directly upon them.

“Heh. People who leave the household still have to eat. There’s no reason leaving the household should mean never working again. And if everyone beneath Heaven left the household, then nobody would truly have left it at all.”

Kongyuan immediately praised him.

“This humble monk has been instructed.”

Liaofan hurriedly copied his master, clasped his palms, and solemnly said:

“This little monk has been instructed.”

At that moment, the Blind Man finished his class at the Temple Bureau and arrived as well.

Only after seeing him did Zheng Fan relax enough to wave away the guards.

Whatever else could be said, this was still Snow Sea Pass.

With A’Ming and the Blind Man standing beside him, even if Kongyuan were some hidden master, killing Zheng Fan would be extraordinarily difficult.

Kongyuan looked toward the Blind Man.

“May this humble monk ask Benefactor— are you Buddha?

Or demon?”

The Blind Man smiled.

“If Buddha says I am Buddha, then I am Buddha.

“If a demon says I am demon, then I am demon.”

Kongyuan felt as though another wave of enlightenment had washed over him.

He immediately said:

“This humble monk has been instructed.”

“This little monk has been instructed.”

Liaofan silently memorized the words inside his heart.

Usually, while wandering with his master, whenever they encountered some great teacher opening a lecture, they might have to listen an entire day before hearing one or two memorable pieces of philosophical wordplay.

And those little pieces were extremely useful.

According to his master, whether a monk later ate good vegetarian food, slept in good lodgings, and won the approval of high officials and nobles depended heavily on possessing exactly these kinds of lines.

Who would have imagined that everyone inside Snow Sea Pass seemed capable of producing them casually?

*Memorize it.*

*Quickly.*

*Remember every word.*

*This is how I’ll earn food later.*

In truth, this kind of philosophical wordplay was not difficult to mass-produce.

In later generations, it was usually fifty percent aphorism, forty percent ambiguity that sounded profound, and ten percent actual Buddhist principle stirred around the edges.

More importantly who said something often mattered more than what was said.

Count Zheng was now Count Pingye personally enfeoffed by the Emperor of Yan and Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass.

At least within this territory he had almost reached the threshold where even a fart could be interpreted as Zen.

Zheng Fan beckoned to both monks.

Liaofan saw the mutton on the table and sniffed involuntarily.

“Eat.”

Liaofan immediately looked at his master.

Kongyuan said:

“Amitabha. Since Count Pingye is using military force to compel you to violate the meat prohibition, then eat. The Buddha will understand your difficulty.”

“Amitabha.”

The little monk immediately grabbed the mutton and began eating.

Zheng Fan silently took out his metal Zhonghua cigarette case.

He removed one cigarette and offered it to the Blind Man.

Then took another for himself.

Just as he prepared to put the case away—

Old Monk Kongyuan unexpectedly reached out his hand too.

“Monks smoke?”

“Smoking harms the body, but sharpens the mind.”

Tobacco had not yet become fully popular in the eastern states.

After all, taking mineral powder remained fashionable.

Some people did use tobacco, but most treated it as medicine. Among common people, there was also a widespread belief that burning tobacco could dispel foulness.

Translated into modern terms the people believed tobacco smoke could disinfect, prevent illness, and perhaps even extend life.

The fact that this monk knew tobacco harmed the body meant he genuinely understood something.

Zheng Fan remembered the Marquis of Jingnan saying the same thing when he had once seen Zheng Fan smoking. The Marquis had tempered his body since childhood and naturally understood the damage smoke could do to a Martial Artist’s physique.

For Zheng Fan, however, that did not matter much.

He was hardly living as an ascetic monk.

Besides, in his previous life, two packs a day had barely been enough when he was working in the studio. In this life he smoked far less, while exercising and cultivating constantly.

What was there to fret about?

Kongyuan accepted the cigarette and copied the way Zheng Fan and the Blind Man held it between their lips.

Zheng Fan lit his own with a fire striker, passed the flame to the Blind Man, and the Blind Man in turn leaned over to light the old monk’s cigarette.

Kongyuan immediately rose in courtesy.

“Many thanks, Benefactor.”

Three men sat smoking together.

The old monk handled the tobacco naturally enough. Even if he had never smoked rolled cigarettes before, he had clearly used tobacco in some form.

“Old monk, if you know this thing harms the body, why still use it?”

Kongyuan replied:

“It is merely a stinking bag of flesh. What does its condition matter? The earlier it rots away, the earlier this humble monk can ascend to the Pure Land.”

“You really do take things lightly.”

“This humble monk has made the Count laugh.”

The Blind Man remained silent, smoking quietly.

“Old monk, why did you come to Snow Sea Pass?”

“This humble monk originally believed this place would be a pure land.”

“Heh. Half a year ago, corpses lay piled everywhere here. What pure land?”

“Many people died.

“And many fellow practitioners died as well.

“The more of my peers who die in a place, the purer that land naturally becomes for this humble monk.”

“Tsk.”

Zheng Fan laughed.

Then ordered:

“Bring this young master another jar of wine.”

Liaofan froze with a sheep leg between his teeth and immediately looked toward his master.

Old Monk Kongyuan sighed.

“Since Count Pingye is using military force to compel you to violate the prohibition against alcohol, then violate it. The Buddha knows your difficulties and will not blame you.”

“Mm, Master.”

Once the wine arrived, Liaofan pulled the stopper from the small jar and began drinking directly from it.

*Glug, glug, glug.*

He lowered the jar.

“Ah!”

Then went straight back to gnawing his sheep leg.

Judging from the sight the boy could clearly hold his liquor.

“Count,” Kongyuan said, “this humble monk understands what you intend to do.”

“Oh? What?”

Kongyuan pointed north.

“The Emperor of Yan has enfeoffed Count Pingye here, and you now command Snow Sea Pass. Your foremost concern must naturally be the savages of the snowfields.

“The snowfields are vast.

“Far too vast.

“The savage tribes may be scattered, but bringing all of them under control will still be difficult.

“What the Count seeks— is victory without battle.”

“Continue.”

“Now the Count should be the one speaking to this humble monk.”

“Oh? What am I supposed to say?”

“Count— this humble monk is willing to go.”

“Then why did you run out of the Temple Bureau?”

“This humble monk has wandered among many ancient monasteries, yet I have never remained attached to one place for long. The reason is simple.

“I believe one may kneel before Buddha.

“But one should not kneel before men.

“Of course, if the Count uses soldiers and weapons to compel me— then this humble monk can kneel.”

“You mean you want a temple of your own?”

“Yes.”

“That would not be difficult for you.”

“A temple requires a true Buddha to guard it.

“But it also requires a Buddha of the human world to stand behind it.”

Meaning the temple needed political backing.

Zheng Fan almost laughed.

He remembered Siniang once saying something very similar when she opened a high-end pleasure house.

“This Count can agree. But first, you do the work.

“If you accomplish it, I don’t mind letting you establish a temple inside Snow Sea Pass.

“If you want to build the ancestral seat of an entire Buddhist lineage— this Count will support that too.”

“This humble monk thanks the Count.”

“That’s settled?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I haven’t given you anything but words.”

“But this humble monk believes them.”

“Tsk. You really are interesting. Blind Man.”

“This subordinate is here.”

“You two should communicate more.

“See whether the Temple Bureau’s training work can gradually be handed over to him.”

The Blind Man had far too many matters to handle.

Finding someone capable of sharing the burden would naturally be useful.

At present, the most important work remained ideological and political education for new soldiers and the people of the Keyan Tribe.

That work could never be handed entirely to outsiders.

“Yes, Master.”

Old Monk Kongyuan clasped his palms with complete sincerity.

“This humble monk will not disappoint the Count.”

“If you handle the work well, even if one day you want to open a great temple inside Yanjing itself— this Count can help make it happen.”

Kongyuan’s mouth opened in genuine shock.

It was not an act.

Because at that moment he suddenly understood several things.

“The savages... are not the Count’s true—”

“Heh.”

Zheng Fan leaned slightly backward.

One knee rose.

He ground the cigarette butt dead against it and said:

“The snowfields are enormous.

“The savages are indeed numerous.

“But none of that has ever truly entered this Count’s eyes.

“Look eight hundred years into the past.

“You should know perfectly well what has always been the true mortal threat to my Great Yan.”

The barbarians!

“Let’s not speak in riddles.

“If within three years you can produce real results across the snowfields, then one day entering Yanjing’s highest halls— even being named State Preceptor will not be a dream.

“His Majesty is exceptionally generous in matters like this.”

From Zheng Fan’s understanding of the Emperor of Yan, if someone could genuinely help solve the barbarian problem a title such as State Preceptor truly meant nothing.

Kongyuan immediately bowed.

“Many thanks for the Count’s support.”

“Blind Man.”

“Yes.”

The Blind Man stood.

He looked toward the two monks.

“Please come with me.”

“Good. Good.”

Kongyuan seized his disciple’s greasy hand and followed the Blind Man downstairs.

A’Ming spoke.

“Master, is he reliable?”

“Worth trying.

“At worst we send a few dozen or a hundred charlatans onto the snowfields. We lose nothing.

“Oh, wait.

“When the time comes, we may need you to cooperate.”

“This subordinate?”

“Perform the miracle of resurrection.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Has work begun on the workshops?”

“It has already started, Master.”

“Mm. Push the schedule. You’ve worked hard.”

“Master overstates it.”

“This mutton soup is good.

“The new residence is almost finished, isn’t it?

“Transfer the cook into the residence.”

At present, every business open to the public inside the city belonged to the Count’s Residence.

Moving one cook really did require nothing more than a sentence.

“Yes, Master. I’ll tell Siniang.”

“Mm.”

“Mm.”

“You don’t have anything else to say to me?”

*I’m giving you an opening here.*

*Don’t you want to advance too?*

“Master, this subordinate still hasn’t figured it out.”

“Then think slowly.

“There’s no rush.”

...

“Masters, this will be where the two of you rest from now on. The Temple Bureau is just ahead. Master Kongyuan, tomorrow you will lecture together with me.”

“Many thanks, Mr. Bei.”

“Master is too polite.”

At that moment, servants brought tea and set it down.

The Blind Man said:

“These two will attend to both Masters’ daily needs.”

“We cannot accept such treatment. Excessive luxury... breeds weakness.”

“I was inconsiderate. Return to the yamen.”

“Yes, Mr. Bei.”

“Yes, Mr. Bei.”

The two servants left.

The corner of Old Monk Kongyuan’s mouth twitched.

Little Monk Liaofan immediately said:

“Mr. Bei, my master only cares about appearances. He was just being polite.”

“Wretched disciple! Shut your mouth!”

The Blind Man did not mind.

“Then later I’ll send two servant women instead.”

“Women?” Liaofan began.

*Thwack!*

Another rap landed directly on his bald head.

Kongyuan immediately declared:

“Since the Count’s Residence compels this humble monk by military force, this humble monk can only accept with reluctance. Amitabha. The Buddha will forgive this humble monk.”

“Precisely.”

Kongyuan immediately dragged the subject back toward serious matters.

“This humble monk has already understood the Count’s great undertaking in broad outline. But many details will still require Mr. Bei’s guidance.”

“Naturally.

“We both serve the Count.

“We should row the same boat together.”

“Speaking of which, since entering the city, I have observed its layout.

“Was Snow Sea Pass rebuilt?”

“It suffered heavily during the war.

“Naturally, much of the city has been reconstructed.”

“The new layout is remarkably orderly.

“Especially the Count Pingye Residence now nearing completion.

“Though it lies relatively far north, its position avoids baleful qi in terms of feng shui while seizing the Gate of Life. It even seems to resonate faintly with the tail of the Tianduan Mountains.

“Was such a finishing touch arranged by Mr. Bei?”

The Blind Man smiled.

“Master flatters me.

“I would not dare claim credit.”

“Hiss.

“There is another strange master inside the city?

“Might this humble monk someday have the fortune to meet him?”

“There will naturally be an opportunity later.”

The location of the Count Pingye Residence had needed to satisfy one practical condition first: it had to remain close to the northern gate and therefore close to the Sword Saint.

Its precise location and orientation, however had been chosen by Liang Cheng.

They simply made him lie down.

Then asked where he felt most comfortable lying.

That spot became the center from which construction of the residence began.

After all, the skill of people who read feng shui inevitably varied.

But when it came to whether a burial ground was truly comfortable the person being buried probably possessed the strongest right to speak.

“There really are countless talented and extraordinary people beneath Count Pingye. To receive the Count’s attention and serve beneath him is truly this humble monk’s fortune.

“Still, there is one more matter that greatly interests me.”

“Please ask freely.”

“This kind of plan for wiping out whole bloodlines—

“No.

“This great meritorious dharma of educating every people without discrimination and relieving the weakness of the masses—who proposed it?

“This humble monk has also heard that a Savage King once rose upon the snowfields and caused endless turmoil in Jin, only to be captured and escorted to Yanjing.

“If that Savage King knew what sort of landscape the snowfields will become in the future—

I wonder what he would feel.”

The Blind Man smiled faintly.

He did not immediately answer.

Because the person who had proposed this idea was the Savage King himself.

Even some of the doctrines and teachings tailored specifically for the savages had been personally modified by the Savage King on the basis of star worship, precisely to make conversion more effective.

“Master, this strategy came from our Count himself.”

“Haaah.

“Count Pingye truly possesses extraordinary talent.

“This humble monk admires him.”

“Master has asked many questions.

“I also have one.”

“Please ask, Mr. Bei.”

“How high is Master’s cultivation?”

Earlier, during the lecture, Kongyuan had managed to remain conscious inside the Blind Man’s hypnotic environment.

That alone proved he possessed cultivation.

The Blind Man was certain of that much.

What he could not determine was exactly how deep Kongyuan’s cultivation went.

“A monk may stand very high.

“Or very low.

“High enough to rival the sky.

“Low enough to become dust.

“What matters is the heart.

“But that usually has little use in killing and battle.

“So earlier, when those military crossbows pointed at this humble monk, I may have looked calm outside— but inside, I was already terrified.”

“That only makes me more curious.

“I wait eagerly.

“I hope Master will indulge me.”

“Mr. Bei means...”

“Though I am blind— my heart can still see.”

“That is indeed true.

“Then this humble monk will embarrass himself before Mr. Bei.”

Kongyuan closed his eyes.

His palms came together.

A moment later his eyes opened again.

His gaze was clear.

Still as an ancient well.

His voice sank.

“My Buddha is merciful.”

In the Blind Man’s “vision”—

Kongyuan began rising.

Higher.

Higher.

And higher still.

He broke through the roof.

Then continued climbing.

This was not actual combat power.

It was spiritual realm state of mind—

Zen—

Dao enlightenment.

A literary titan such as Yao Zizhan might possess an astonishing inner realm while still being nothing more than a physically helpless old scholar who could be killed by ordinary bandits.

Old Monk Kongyuan also intended to reveal some of his depth before Count Pingye’s trusted confidant.

If he could raise his own value so much the better.

He had cultivated Buddhism his entire life.

His Buddhist heart had already entered the clouds.

He could seek great freedom.

Within the unseen world an aura ordinary people could never perceive rose above Snow Sea Pass.

At that exact moment inside a small courtyard beside the nearly completed Count Pingye Residence a man lay beneath the sun, half dozing.

He seemed to sense something.

Slowly he opened his eyes.

His body remained terribly weak.

Far from fully recovered.

But razor-sharp sword light appeared within those eyes.

Even Longyuan, currently wedged beneath a dining table as a shim for one uneven leg released a faint cry.

“What demonic monk dares spy upon the qi of my Snow Sea Pass!”

...

“AH!”

Before the Blind Man—

Old Monk Kongyuan, who moments earlier had appeared utterly profound and inscrutable suddenly screamed.

When he raised his face again blood was already running from both eyes.

His life was not in danger.

But terror had filled his heart.

He immediately asked in panic:

“Mr. Bei, what other great expert lives inside this city?

“That person’s inner realm stands above even this humble monk’s!

“His sharpness— is nearly impossible to withstand!”

The Blind Man did not answer at once.

Instead, he rubbed his chin and murmured inwardly:

*Good.*

*Test complete.*

*Looks like Master’s investment was correct.*

*The Sword Saint really does have hope of recovering.*

“Mr. Bei, who exactly was that?”

Kongyuan had completely lost his earlier solemn composure.

He asked anxiously.

The Blind Man seemed almost startled by how badly the monk had been frightened.

Then realization dawned.

“Oh.

“Master need not worry.

“Just a cripple.”

————

[End of Chapter 390]