Han Shi stayed at Yushan for ten days. Just as the Yun family’s merchant caravan was returning to Shu, she decided to travel with them—having companions on the road would provide mutual support. Amid Di Renjie’s wailing cries, Han Shi steeled her heart and departed in tears. Partings in this era often became eternal farewells. The ancient adage that parents should not travel far had its reasons.
After several days of adjustment, once Little Wu had established her position as second senior disciple, she began treating Di Renjie better. His mother had also gone to Shu, so the two of them could now be considered fellow provincials. No matter what, there was a need for mutual care. Whether in daily life or studies, Little Wu gave Di Renjie tremendous help.
Yun Ye as a teacher was actually quite unqualified. He simply gave students a brief explanation of mathematical problems, taught them the methods, then washed his hands of it. How much they could learn and master depended on individual comprehension. Fortunately, Di Renjie was no ordinary person. He quickly got into the rhythm with simple problems involving addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. With Little Wu’s help in writing, one could say he progressed by leaps and bounds. Before long, he would surpass Xiao Ya, and overtaking Shishi within a year would be no problem at all.
Natural talent was truly important. Sometimes Yun Ye didn’t need to explain much before Little Wu and Di Renjie already understood, while Xiao Ya and the others still looked at their brother innocently with circles in their eyes. Whenever this happened, Yun Ye would explain again separately to Xiao Ya, Xiao Dong, Xiao Nan, Xiao Xi, and Xiao Bei. He didn’t require them to completely understand, only that they have a general cognition of mathematics.
Today after finishing the lessons, rain began falling outside the window. The Lingnan naval forces were already able to set out on orders, preparing to transport another shipment of grain. In this place called Guanzhong, there was never enough food—no matter how much there was, it would all be eaten.
Li’er did not grant permission for Yun Ye to go to Lingnan again, but instead ordered Liu Renyuan to temporarily lead the team to transport grain. The grain would be sent directly to Hebei, then transported to the capital by canal boats.
The great elder of the Tuyuhun people arrived in the capital again, presenting gifts to Li’er. Xueyantuo’s envoys also reached Chang’an. Scattered tribes from the grasslands also sent envoys to the capital. This time was different from usual—each brought tribal beauties along with grand song and dance troupes to Chang’an. Qiuci and Khotan even exhausted their domestic singing and dancing masters and renowned musicians, preparing to perform in Chang’an. These were just means to curry favor with the Tang Dynasty. The truly clever move was presenting Li’er with the title of King of Kings—that is, Heavenly Khagan, meaning the supreme king sent down by heaven.
This was an achievement for the ages. Li’er was overjoyed, the whole nation was stirred. Officials collectively submitted memorials congratulating the emperor. Literati and scholars praised him in chorus. For a time, Chang’an was abuzz with excitement, quite displaying an aura of purple qi bursting forth.
Yun Ye and Yuan Tiangang sat at the highest point of Yushan. The light rain outside the pavilion still hadn’t stopped. Shishi and Little Wu were brewing tea, Di Renjie was pouring wine, and Li Chunfeng leaned idly against a pillar with nothing to do, gazing listlessly at the scenery.
Whenever Yuan Tiangang’s cup ran dry, Di Renjie would diligently refill it, looking reverently at this living immortal before him. As for when Master’s cup was empty, he only noticed when the table was tapped.
“There is a purple qi arriving in Chang’an. I wonder which nation’s envoys have come to congratulate His Majesty.” Yuan Tiangang stroked his beard, assuming an inscrutable appearance that made Di Renjie sigh in admiration.
“Old Yuan, can you change the way you talk? Don’t always put on that disgusting air of prescience. There’s such a large procession on the official road at the foot of the mountain—even a fool would know they’re tribute envoys. You don’t need to tell me.”
Unable to bear such vague and evasive conversation, Yun Ye simply exposed his charlatan nature, causing the gleam in Di Renjie’s eyes to rapidly dim.
“Marquis Yun, you are extremely tedious, do you know that? You’re clever, but can you make everyone else as clever as you? They need guidance, they need edification, they need faith, they need spiritual pillars. This humble priest does exactly that. If you continue like this, you’ll ruin a rare great opportunity that the Daoist school has waited centuries for.”
“Now the world is full of bald monks rolling around. You’ve never had any regard for Buddhism, so why help those bald monks? The *Journey to the West* you fabricated has now become the climactic segment during Buddhist lay sermons. Country folk are ignorant—what they love most are these mysterious and strange things. Now Buddhism has the momentum to rise from the ashes again. This time with all nations coming to pay tribute, I hear they’ve organized one hundred so-called enlightened high monks, preparing to hold a great Compassionate Relief Assembly for three days and three nights for the fallen warriors’ souls. How do you expect us to respond?”
The clash between Buddhism and Daoism had never ceased. This time, Daoxin was going all in with his capital. The Compassionate Relief Assembly had another name in later generations—the Water and Land Dharma Assembly, a ritual offering to save the water and land spirits.
It was said to have begun with Emperor Wu of Liang. Legend had it that once when Emperor Wu of Liang was sleeping, a monk appeared in his dream and told him: The six realms and four forms of life suffer immeasurably—why not create a great Water and Land feast to universally save all spirits? So this emperor who extremely revered Buddhism specially developed a set of rituals. He established the Water and Land Assembly in Zhenjiang, making offerings to three types of recipients: upper, middle, and lower.
The upper offerings were to the Buddhas of all dharma realms, various Bodhisattvas, Pratyekabuddhas, Shravakas, Wisdom Kings, the Eight Divisions, and Brahmin immortals. The middle offerings were to Brahma, Indra, the Twenty-Eight Heavens, and all celestial deities throughout the void. The lower offerings were to the dragon spirits of the Five Sacred Mountains and rivers and seas, ancient human lineages, Asura hosts, underworld officials and their families, hell beings, wandering souls and lingering spirits, masterless and dependent ghost and spirit hosts, and sentient beings on the side paths of the dharma realm. Among the six realms were four noble and six common paths, universally offering… Those who had not yet developed Bodhi mind would develop it through this Water and Land supreme assembly. Those not yet freed from the wheel of suffering would attain non-retrogression through this. Those not yet achieved Buddhahood would achieve it through this Water and Land supreme assembly.
Never mind the effects—just speaking of the expenses, this was an enormous outlay. It required building a dedicated temple. If it occupied less than four hundred mu, that would be embarrassing. The construction period was tight, the task heavy. It seemed the Yun family’s construction team could make a killing again.
“Old Yuan, how exactly am I helping you? Every time something comes up and you need me, you come to my house to eat and drink for free, even take things for free. Master Daoxin is much more sensible in handling matters—he asked me one question and gave my grandmother a string of the finest prayer beads. You come to the door empty-handed without any shame.”
“You insatiably greedy little bastard! You already swindled away the *Yellow Court Classic*, and now you still have the face to continue extorting bribes. Quickly think of a solution! Come up with one and you can have whatever you want. If you can’t think of one, I’ll bring the entire temple to eat at your house.”
Shishi brought Yun Ye a cup of tea with a taut smile but didn’t give one to Yuan Tiangang. Only then did Yun Ye realize—Old Yuan had said “bald monks” several times just now. Shishi’s father was a bald monk, so naturally she wouldn’t be pleased hearing this.
“Old Yuan, if you’re willing to give me the original copy of Master Xihua’s *Mysterious Virtue Compilation and Commentary on the Classic of the Way and Virtue*, I’ll tell you an enormous secret. The Compassionate Relief Assembly is just a gimmick. You don’t know and don’t understand what’s truly important. As it happens, I’m the only person who knows the truth of the matter. Last time I asked Cheng Xuanying for it, he ignored me, saying that Daoist canonical secrets are not shown to outsiders. It’s just a broken book he wrote—I’ve written books too, and mine are public editions. What’s he so proud of?”
Little Wu watched with shining eyes as Master extorted Yuan Tiangang. Shishi was very worried Master would reveal Buddhist secrets. Di Renjie had long since been thrown into confusion. So this was how masters actually behaved—Master swindled people’s silver, the Immortal Yuan also cursed, and wasn’t that magical after all. Outsiders’ words truly couldn’t be trusted. All matters must be investigated personally to uncover the truth. Surface appearances could kill.
Yuan Tiangang looked at Yun Ye anew and discovered that although he was smiling, there wasn’t a trace of joking in his manner. That meant to learn the truth, he would have to give Yun Ye the *Mysterious Virtue Compilation and Commentary on the Classic of the Way and Virtue* that Cheng Xuanying valued as much as his own life.
“Marquis Yun, you should know that the *Mysterious Virtue Compilation and Commentary on the Classic of the Way and Virtue* is the painstaking masterwork of our Daoist prodigy Cheng Xuanying. It was by virtue of this book that he obtained the title of Master Xihua. The book contains many things that are untransmitted secrets even for us Daoists, and even has certain understanding of astrology. It can be called the crystallization of our Daoist wisdom in recent years. This humble priest is willing to exchange ten thousand gold for one word from Marquis Yun. Please spare Cheng Xuanying—without this book, he will die.”
“Whether he dies or not is not my concern. Ever since he deluded ignorant fishermen on the East Sea into throwing children into the ocean to seek peace and safety, I’ve stopped caring much about his life or death. If not for him, Old Yuan, with the friendship between you and me, I would tell you for free.”
“Marquis Yun, Cheng Xuanying has already repented. At that time he had fallen into demonic delusion in Daoist practice, believing that all the gods and Buddhas in heaven required blood sacrifice to be appeased. The ocean waves didn’t cease because the Dragon King’s fury couldn’t be calmed. You see, after throwing in children, the sea calmed after two days without a ripple.”
“Yuan Tiangang! You dare gloss over faults before me? The southeastern monsoon comes every year, beginning in the third month and subsiding in the fifth month. During this period there are torrential rains or scorching sun—it’s originally just a natural phenomenon. Cheng Xuanying actually dared speak nonsense and throw innocent children into the ocean. What’s more terrifying is that it actually formed a fixed ritual—every year requiring the killing of two children. He repented? That also depends on whether heaven will forgive him or not. Shishi, see the guest out!” After Yun Ye finished speaking, he shook his sleeves and left the pavilion.
After taking two steps, he turned back to Yuan Tiangang and said: “This secret is very important. For your Daoist school, it concerns life and death. You decide. If you won’t give me the *Mysterious Virtue Compilation and Commentary on the Classic of the Way and Virtue*, that’s fine—bring me Cheng Xuanying’s tongue and I’ll also tell you.”
Little Wu happily held up an umbrella to chase after Master. Shishi saw the guest out with a stern face. Di Renjie was at a loss. The two men who had been chatting and laughing just moments ago had fallen out in an instant—faster than flipping through a book.
Little Wu caught up to Master and stood on tiptoe to hold the umbrella over his head, saying sweetly: “Master is amazing! Show that snot-nosed old Daoist what you’re made of! When he has nothing to do, he always looks at my face up and down—definitely not a good person. It would be best if our family never let him in again. Shifty-eyed—not a good person. Master is mighty!”
Yun Ye indulgently patted Little Wu on the back of her head, took the umbrella, and said to her: “Little Wu, remember this: at any time, never disregard human life. This thing is too precious—for each of us, we only get one chance. Once lost, it’s gone. There’s no question of whose life is worth less than another’s. You don’t know this, but your Uncle Dongyu was hunted by the Daoist school of the East Sea precisely because he was unwilling to offer his child to the Sea Dragon King. To prevent him from revealing the truth, they actually cut out his tongue while he was still alive. Only recently, after he learned to write with Xiao Cangsheng, did he tell me the truth of the matter.”
“So that’s why Master, regardless of your friendship with Yuan Tiangang and disregarding Cheng Xuanying’s great reputation, you must punish him—just like when you sought justice for Sister Lüzhu?”
“Exactly. This world needs fewer evils and more beauty.”