Bao Zhu stood in the long corridor outside the Hall of Inevitable Impermanence, tears streaming down her face as she wept.
Personnel, Finance, Rites, War, Justice, and Works—the Ministry of Works was the last of the Six Ministries, with almost no opportunity to distinguish themselves in court. Any official with family background or connections would try every means to leave that place, so those who ultimately remained were all silent and dutiful fellows who, let alone engaging in witty conversation at banquets, even appeared wooden and clumsy when dancing.
However, this last of the Six Ministries was also the one most closely connected to people’s livelihoods. An official like Tan Lin, who had worked in frontline practical affairs for decades, could casually produce figures from various records to substantiate his arguments. Bao Zhu, who lived in the clouds above, was no match for him at all. After just a few exchanges, she was refuted to the point where tears burst from her eyes. Not wanting to show weakness before her opponent, she could only get up and run outside to cry.
Wei Xun pulled out a handkerchief to comfort her: “You’re trying to trade case-solving for his grain, not golden beans for it. If you keep crying, you’ll be at a great loss.”
Bao Zhu sobbed: “I just can’t help it…”
Due to years of sutra debates and dharma discussions, many eminent monks possessed excellent eloquence. However, Tan Lin’s infuriating quality wasn’t his unimpeded eloquence, but rather that his words had substance, backed by years of official experience in disaster relief and famine aid. He even knew clearly how many times the Tianjin Bridge in Luoyang had been rebuilt due to floods. Moreover, when it came to the numbers of famine victims, even Wei Xun, who had lived among the lower classes for years, offered no rebuttal.
Compared to an experienced expert like Tan Lin who had weathered the world, her ideas were not only naive and childish but also showed a lack of self-awareness. She couldn’t stop crying because she realized her own superficiality. The deeper despair came from the fact that even an official like Tan Lin, who had struggled on the frontlines his entire life, concluded that there was no solution—only by escaping into the Buddhist path and praying to break free from the cycle of reincarnation could one find liberation.
Yang Xingjian couldn’t persuade either side to stop. On one hand was an imperial princess whose identity couldn’t be revealed publicly; on the other was a former superior of high rank and noble birth whom he couldn’t offend. Remembering that he had voluntarily suggested staying at the Great Toad Light Temple, he wanted nothing more than to slap himself hard across the face.
Bao Zhu had cried her own handkerchief wet and switched to Wei Xun’s, unable to help complaining: “You clearly knew my plan was inappropriate, yet you didn’t remind me.”
Wei Xun said: “Now you know that pagoda tree flowers and elm seeds can serve as food, don’t you? That’s already progress. That line about ‘feeding a thousand people today, looking for opportunities tomorrow’ was also well said.”
Bao Zhu buried her face in the handkerchief, thinking that in the palace, no one would dare oppose her like this. After leaving the palace, when engaging in debates with others, either the opponents were too weak, or she relied on Yang Xingjian’s official authority to gain the upper hand every time. Now, encountering a formidable opponent who didn’t care about her status for the first time, she was immediately shown her true colors. Even though Wei Xun tried every way to support her, it couldn’t change the fact of her complete defeat.
Seeing her cry with particular misery this time, Wei Xun very much wanted to reach out and touch her to show comfort, but having never done such a thing, he didn’t know how to express it. In the end, he could only hand her cloth handkerchiefs one after another. Ever since learning about her habit of crying uncontrollably, he had taken to carrying four or five handkerchiefs daily as backup.
Losing was always painful. The phoenix twins were unhatched fledglings who hadn’t seen the world outside their eggshells, naturally no match for real snow, rain, wind, and frost. Had they been mature, powerful divine beasts, they wouldn’t have been harmed by human schemes and buried alive in underground palaces from the start.
Finally, Bao Zhu had cried enough and cried her fill. She wiped her face clean, took a deep breath, and turned to walk back toward the Hall of Inevitable Impermanence.
Wei Xun advised: “Since the conditions have been agreed upon, just ignore that old baldy.”
Bao Zhu replied: “Mother said the most stable beneficial relationships are those where both sides have demands of each other. He’s targeting me simply because he looks down on my showing off, so I’m going to show off for him to see. Besides, how would a retired court official like him know Chen Shigu? I’m extremely curious about this matter and must ask until I get to the bottom of it.”
Having said this, she returned to the great hall, sat on the meditation cushion, and questioned Tan Lin: “What did you mean by mentioning that person surnamed Chen?”
This time Tan Lin looked toward Yang Xingjian: “Zhijing knows—Chen Shigu was a jinshi graduate in the Dali years, passing the examination in the same year as I did.”
Yang Xingjian explained: “That was just before I was born. Those who told the story were vague in their details. I heard he was a prodigy who passed at just over twenty, but suffered from madness and abandoned his position within two years.”
The saying goes “thirty is old for a Mingjing degree, fifty is young for a jinshi degree.” The jinshi examination was extremely difficult, with only ten to twenty people passing each year. Being able to pass after age fifty was considered having achieved at a young age; passing in one’s twenties was simply legendary. Precisely because it was so rare, such a person would surely achieve great success in the future, making it all the more lamentable when someone abandoned it.
Tan Lin shook his head: “It wasn’t madness—he was poisoned with an infatuation toxin.” He looked at Wei Xun: “Later, that person returned to the martial world and began taking disciples.”
His words were like a thunderbolt. Bao Zhu and Yang Xingjian gaped, showing expressions of disbelief, simultaneously staring at Wei Xun, while Wei Xun spread his hands and said innocently: “I never heard about the first half.”
Yang Xingjian coughed twice and said solemnly: “The master has misunderstood. There is indeed someone with the same name, Chen Shigu, but that person is a tomb robber who can’t show his face in public.”
Tan Lin said calmly: “There’s no misunderstanding—it’s the same person. Although Chen Shigu came from a common family, he was brilliantly talented, skilled in martial arts, and had a mind completely different from ordinary people. He could pass the jinshi examination and also commit murder, robbery, and tomb raiding. When I first met Chen Shigu at the Qujiang banquet after the examination results were announced, he was wearing this very sword at his waist.”
He pointed to the Fish Intestine sword at Wei Xun’s waist: “This old monk has studied antiques and ancient inscriptions for many years—I couldn’t possibly mistake such an ancient famous weapon.”
After an awkward silence, Yang Xingjian suddenly shouted “Ah!” and jumped up from his meditation cushion.
“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” His hands trembling, he excitedly denied it repeatedly.
Yang Xingjian came from a prestigious family and had always prided himself on gentlemanly deportment with excellent manners and bearing. Bao Zhu had never seen him lose his composure so publicly before, and she stared dumbfounded. Tan Lin shook his head and sighed: “Zhijing also has attachments.”
The Hongnong Yang family had produced Three Excellencies in four generations, with a long and illustrious lineage and countless talents who entered court through imperial examinations. But Yang Xingjian had bad luck—forget the jinshi degree, he had failed the Mingjing examination twice in a row, finally entering officialdom through hereditary privilege based on his ancestors’ merits. This had left him with a psychological complex that haunted him constantly.
His sense of hierarchy was extremely strong, and deep down he looked down on unlettered martial world people like Wei Xun. Who could have imagined that from his former superior, a jinshi graduate, he would learn that the person he most despised had not only passed the jinshi examination but had discarded it like worn shoes? His psychological defenses completely collapsed on the spot.
Wei Xun saw him so angry that tears were falling and found it quite amusing. He deliberately teased: “Master often said reading books is the most useless thing. Could it be that an upper-class person like you has studied less than a tomb robber?”
“Ahhh!!!” Yang Xingjian completely broke down, crying as he ran from the Hall of Inevitable Impermanence.
Wei Xun was thoroughly amused, but when he turned back and saw Bao Zhu’s furious glare, sensing trouble, he pressed his lips together and suppressed his mischievous smile.
“He’s on our side!” Bao Zhu scolded angrily.
Old Yang was the second member to lose and flee in tears on the spot. Bao Zhu was angry that Wei Xun would tease people regardless of the situation. If she had a ruler at hand, she would definitely have swollen his mischievous paws. Wei Xun didn’t dare look directly into her eyes, guilt-ridden as he shifted aside and muttered quietly: “I just couldn’t help it…”
Bao Zhu’s inner shock was actually no less than Yang Xingjian’s. Who could have imagined that a jinshi graduate would produce that group of illiterate disciples at Canyang Academy?
Watching the interactions among the three of them, Tan Lin and Guan Chuan were certain in their hearts: this young lady was definitely not Yang Xingjian’s daughter.
Tan Lin said: “If you’re interested in Chen Shigu’s past affairs, we can chat about them another day. This old monk will speak without reservation. But tonight, please first assist Toad Light Temple in uncovering the truth.”
Wei Xun said: “Only that obsessed painter Wu Guancheng could create water painting illusions. We should find him first and get clear answers before discussing anything else.”
Tan Lin was silent for a moment, then Guan Chuan beside him spoke: “I’m afraid that’s no longer possible. That floating corpse is probably Brother Guancheng himself.”
Bao Zhu was startled: “You’ve identified the features?”
Guan Chuan shook his head: “The body was so waterlogged it was unrecognizable… but the hair was just past the ears, too short to tie into a topknot, hanging loose and disheveled, neither monk nor layman. Only Guancheng, who had been defrocked for a year, wore that particular hairstyle.”
Bao Zhu pondered for a moment and said: “Since he normally had that strange disheveled appearance, many people surely knew him. Perhaps someone deliberately trimmed the corpse’s hair to that length?”
Tan Lin and Guan Chuan looked at each other in surprise: “Why would anyone do that?”
Bao Zhu said: “I once saw a case where the killer cut off the victim’s head just to conceal that the victim was a bald monk.”
The Hall of Inevitable Impermanence fell into complete silence.
Wei Xun was the first to break the situation: “Where’s the body? It hasn’t been buried yet, has it? Let me take a look.”
Guan Chuan said: “It’s in the lime pit behind the hall.”
Wei Xun stood up: “Lead the way.”
Yang Xingjian had run off somewhere to nurse his wounds alone. Bao Zhu and Wei Xun followed Guan Chuan out the back of the hall and saw a row of low rear buildings to the north, used as storage.
Along the way, Wei Xun casually broke off a tree branch and asked nonchalantly: “There was once a top expert in the Central Plains martial world with the nickname ‘Thunder Sound Lion,’ famous throughout the martial world for his external hard training and lion’s roar technique. He suddenly disappeared about four or five years ago and his whereabouts have been unknown since. Great monk, your secular name wouldn’t happen to be Qiu Jiancheng, would it?”
Guan Chuan remained unmoved and replied: “All forms and appearances are illusory, and names are also illusory. Since I’ve become a monk, I have no more ties to the secular world. Whether my surname is En or Qiu makes no difference.”
Bao Zhu had already understood Wei Xun’s meaning. After thinking for a while, she couldn’t help muttering: “‘Thunder Sound Lion’ is really a good nickname. The suanni is a fierce beast resembling a lion, and lions are also Buddhist sacred animals—much more impressive than a donkey.”
Guan Chuan looked at her strangely. At first glance, this sounded like praise, but she wore an indignant expression, and what did she mean by donkey?
Wei Xun wanted to laugh but didn’t dare, biting his lip to hold it in. Ever since she got the martial world nickname “Donkey-Riding Lady,” she had been asking about others’ nicknames for comparison, always feeling everyone else’s was better than hers.
As they talked, the group reached the front of the storage buildings. This row of houses normally stored corpses used for meditation contemplation, but now they had all been cleared out for the nameless corpse fished from the Release Sea. Guan Chuan unlocked the door and openly invited them in.
Wei Xun said to Bao Zhu: “You wait here at the door. A waterlogged, swollen corpse is much more frightening than a hanged ghost in a pagoda tree.”
Bao Zhu hadn’t had the courage to go in anyway and quickly nodded in agreement.
Wei Xun entered the morgue. Like the Hall of Inevitable Impermanence, the floor had square lime pits dug out, and the floating corpse was placed in one of the pits. The moisture had been absorbed by the lime. A water clock for keeping time and a soul-calming mirror hung on the wall, with a brazier of rich sandalwood incense burning nearby to dispel odors.