Yao Si ran off. The strong man immediately froze on the spot. Although Bai Qi Si had vast supernatural powers, its laws were also strict. The slightest mistake would cost one’s life. As Li Er’s hunting dogs, rewards were generous, but punishments were also deadly matters. The Academy was no stranger to Bai Qi Si. The commander before last had relied on the Academy to escape disaster—this was something everyone in Bai Qi Si knew. If there was one place in the Great Tang that held no mystery about Bai Qi Si and had no fear of it, that place was definitely the Academy.

Shen Gonghai could feel the fine iron chain hanging around his neck trembling slightly, and knew the matter was already eighty percent successful. With an indifferent rogue manner, he took the iron chain from his neck, stuffed it back into the strong man’s waist, and said with a smile: “We just graduated from the Academy without a single achievement. We’re going crazy wanting to establish merit. But we won’t and disdain to take credit from our own people, so rest assured—we’re not that reckless.”

“This evil old woman spent over a dozen years as a shameless whore, then another dozen years as a madam. Who knows how many times she forced good women into prostitution? She’s despised by gods and ghosts alike. But the Great Tang Code hasn’t convicted her—why is that? It’s because although her profession lacks virtue, it doesn’t break the law. Since Guan Zhong established female lodges, they have been legitimate businesses through all dynasties. To put it bluntly, our dynasty’s treasury also contains their contributions.”

“We can despise this woman, look down on this woman, but we have no right to deprive her of the right to live. Heaven granted imperial authority to His Majesty precisely to manage all types of people in the Great Tang. Among them are moral Confucian scholars, peerless fierce warriors, and law-abiding farmers. Naturally, there will also be evil women like Huan Niang. If there’s good, there will be bad. All are His Majesty’s subjects. Good people are heaven’s reward to His Majesty; bad people are naturally heaven’s punishment to His Majesty.”

“When our families produce wastrel sons, old fathers lament—what sins have I committed? But lament as they may, after a good beating, don’t they still have to give him a bowl of rice? It’s the same with His Majesty. Perhaps at this moment, looking at criminal dossiers, His Majesty is lamenting.”

Shen Gonghai spoke with humor and wit, especially imprinting an interesting image of His Imperial Majesty worrying in everyone’s minds. They couldn’t help but show smiles. His Imperial Majesty rarely severely punished common people. A few years ago, he even released many death row prisoners, so everyone thought Shen Gonghai’s words made great sense.

An old man stepped forward, spat at Huan Niang, and said to the two Bai Qi Si agents: “Officers, His Majesty is benevolent and kind. We cannot ruin His Majesty’s good reputation. This evil old woman is just a pile of dog shit. If you step on her, won’t you dirty your feet? Just lift your foot and let her pass—why soil yourself?”

“That’s right, it should be so. We are all good people—associating with filthy people is improper.” A slick-looking fellow also spoke up to persuade them. He seemed to have forgotten he had just come out of Yanlai Tower. When did people visiting prostitutes in broad daylight become good citizens?

The Bai Qi Si men saw that everyone first spat at Huan Niang before speaking to them, and immediately felt proud. We’re busy day and night with so many important matters—why should we waste energy monitoring this stinking old woman? Now she’s just a pile of rotten meat, truly not worth haggling over. When the superior gave the order, it was just a casual remark. There’s no need to make everyone angry over this old woman—truly not worth it.

Shen Gonghai put his arm around the strong man’s shoulder and said: “You two are busy with official duties. The safety of Chang’an City still depends on your day and night vigilance. Look at the time—it’s probably time to get off duty. Why don’t we go share a drink? Let this old woman fend for herself.”

The strong man stared at Shen Gonghai, Yuan Jia, and Zhuzong, then said word by word: “Today’s matter ends here. If Huan Niang does anything evil again, I’ll come find you.”

Yuan Jia borrowed paper and brush from a nearby shop owner, casually wrote a guarantee letter, and handed it to the leading strong man, saying: “Big brother, this is the guarantee I’m providing. In the future, if Huan Niang breaks the law, just come find me.”

The Bai Qi Si agent saw that Yuan Jia was so sensible and understanding. He took the guarantee letter, glanced at it, cupped his hands, and left. Huan Niang, covered in spit, tugged at Yuan Jia’s sleeve and said softly: “The silver.” She still couldn’t forget her money.

Zhuzong flew into a rage: “Truly doesn’t know life from death.” For such a money-grubbing master, even the best-tempered person would lose patience. He lifted his foot to kick Huan Niang, but seeing her pitiful appearance hugging her head and squatting on the ground, he hatefully lowered his foot.

Yuan Jia took out his string of cash and placed it in Huan Niang’s hands, saying: “First go stay at an inn, take a bath, buy a set of clean clothes to change into. Tomorrow, follow me back to Yushan. You can no longer stay in Chang’an City.”

Shen Gonghai saw Huan Niang enter the inn and said unhappily: “Damn it, for the sake of a madam, you made me break out in a cold sweat. Where’s Yao Si? That bastard didn’t run too far, did he?” Just as his words fell, Yao Si had already appeared before him, laughing heartily: “If you two can’t even handle such a small matter and still call yourselves talented scholars, I was just around the corner, waiting to go to Yanlai Tower.”

Zhuzong had long been surrounded by a crowd of gaudily dressed women, being felt up and down, lost in pleasure. Zhuzong, whose appearance had never been his strong point, rarely received the favor of all the girls. No wonder—rich, righteous, and seemingly a bit foolish talented scholar—who wouldn’t like that?

Just before entering Yanlai Tower, Shen Gonghai unobtrusively cupped his hands in salute, then strode into Yanlai Tower, shouting loudly: “Where are the beauties? This big brother doesn’t fancy common powder and rouge!”

“Uncle, look at him! Knowing we’re here, he still dares enter a brothel. When I get back, I’ll call the household servants to break his legs.” A young lady in green clothing kept acting coquettishly toward a long-bearded old man. That old man was none other than Fang Xuanling. The young lady was wholeheartedly trying to get Old Fang to vent her anger.

“Little Rong’er, stop making trouble. Having such a husband is your blessing. Look at how they handled things from start to finish. The four of them coordinated closely and appropriately, advancing and retreating with ease, easily resolving a major crisis. What’s even more rare is that one has firm will, one has endless resourcefulness, one is simple and honest, and one has a silver tongue. Calling them all talented men of the Great Tang is not excessive in the slightest. Your husband is a master at reading expressions, silver-tongued eloquence, and turning black into white. Knowing I was here and he wouldn’t suffer loss, he boldly spoke directly. This counts as planning before acting—first placing himself in a safe position, then confronting power. Rong’er, you’re lucky. Marrying such a husband, you can live peacefully and joyfully for life—what dissatisfaction is there?”

“But Uncle, he entered a brothel.” The young lady still wouldn’t relent.

“Everyone from the Academy is a bad seed. Today he’s with friends—whatever you say, he’ll enter the brothel. Otherwise, he’ll definitely lose face at the Academy. He wants to use this move to tell you that in the future, he’ll manage external affairs while you manage internal ones. Good, your husband has already seen us. Let’s go home now. Your aunt is probably anxiously waiting.”

“He entered a brothel!” The young lady seemed unable to say anything else. Her voice became shrill.

Fang Xuanling gave the coachman an order, took the tearful young lady onto the carriage and went home. But his mind kept replaying the scene that just occurred. He sighed. For traditional scholars from prefectures to compete with these prodigies was truly beyond their capacity. As chancellor, one of his duties was to recommend talent to the Emperor. It seemed that tonight he’d have to write a memorial to report this matter in its entirety to His Majesty. These four people’s names would probably be written on His Majesty’s screen.

Yun Ye’s screen also had many names written on it, but they looked rather eerie. At the very top was the Supreme Lord Lao. Below were legendary immortals of all kinds—from Pangu to Nüwa, then the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, then the Thirty-Six Heavenly Generals, Seventy-Two Earthly Fiends, and various local deities voluntarily worshipped in villages, filling the screen completely.

The back was filled with all the Buddha names he knew. When he wrote Amitabha, he stopped his brush and sat down in a daze. The current Great Tang’s chaotic beliefs stemmed from them having no orderly hierarchy. Everyone believed the deity they worshipped was the most powerful and most deserving of universal reverence.

Some people developed a mystical feeling similar to hallucination and believed this was divine revelation. When a person continuously hypnotizes and numbs themselves, it’s easy to enter this state. What’s terrifying is that this feeling is contagious. In specific environments, terrifying scenes of collective delusion can appear.

If a famous delusional person became deviated, seduced by inner desires into a powerful desire for conquest, then religious conflict would emerge.

Who could tell the world which was more powerful—the Primordial Heavenly Venerable or Amitabha? In humanity’s spiritual world, the abilities of gods and Buddhas would be magnified without limit. Many things we ourselves cannot accomplish, gods and Buddhas could easily achieve—summoning wind and rain, turning beans into soldiers, moving mountains and filling seas. This is humanity’s simple desire for power.

Were Buddhist scriptures all written by Buddha? As far as Yun Ye knew, Xuanzang was now translating Buddhist scriptures using his own understanding. How much personal bias was mixed in was unknown, but the Faxiang-Weishi School was born this way.

He knew clearly the process of how Great Master Xihua went from being a cripple whose tongue he had cut off to becoming a famous immortal.

Something had to be done. Chinese religions could only flourish in China—why couldn’t they reach the world? This wasn’t right. Why didn’t they have the powerful corrosive power of Islam and Catholicism?

Yun Ye attributed this phenomenon to the irregularity of the god and Buddha system. How could intelligent people believe in a system full of loopholes everywhere?

Yun Ye didn’t plan to get involved in religion. He only needed to remind those eminent monks and Daoist priests who were alarmed three times a day that people in crisis would certainly use the fastest method to correct their errors. Pressure was the best whip.