Heroes are not virtuous types, especially the one behind him. The old man was unstoppable on the battlefield, charging through enemy lines three times with unstoppable courage. Over these years, his hands had probably been dyed black with blood. In the Battle of Fenghuang Mountain, Dan Xiongxin’s three thousand subordinates who would rather die than surrender were buried in the yellow earth overnight by this kind old man. Afterward, he rode horses over the mass grave for three days. The reason for doing this was merely to not give Old Dan’s remaining followers a chance to commemorate them. Even Old Cheng admitted he was inferior when this matter was brought up.

The ruthless, bloodthirsty Niu Mowang was willing to set aside his status as Duke to push a wheelbarrow just to transport a few more catties of grain. Just to let a few fewer people starve to death. These words sounded like a paradox, yet this was the truth. When Old Niu killed people, he was meticulous; when he saved people, he was wholehearted. It seemed he was surrounded by abnormal people. Yun Ye was very worried about his own future.

Walking along the way, observing the scenery along the way—cliffs of emerald green, flying waterfalls splashing, ancient trees with gnarled roots intertwined, verdant pines undaunted by the severe cold, facing the cold wind to display for Yun Ye the most beautiful ancient and simple scenery. At the root of the most beautiful and oldest pine tree, he happily took a piss, treating it as a return gift.

Wang Cai was peeking from the side. Seeing Yun Ye giving gifts to others’ homes, as a follower he naturally could not fall behind and also happily took a piss. Just as he was about to run to Yun Ye’s front to report his achievement, he received a slap on his buttocks.

“Get lost. Don’t you see this old man is eating and drinking?” Niu Jinda was very dissatisfied with Yun Ye’s scenery-ruining behavior. It was just that he had long grown accustomed to Yun Ye’s shamelessness and felt Wang Cai could still be saved, which was why he taught him a lesson.

“Uncle, we’ve already walked for nearly twenty days. We must not be far from Chang’an, right?” Five days ago when leaving Qinzhou, Yun Ye very much wanted to go see the Maiji Shan grottoes that were being excavated. In later generations, he went too late—many Buddha heads had already been stolen by others, leaving only the headless残 torsos standing there to receive people’s worship.

Going now, they should still be there. Strike early—these were priceless treasures that would be wonderful to keep as family heirlooms. In later generations, if you chopped off Buddha heads, the authorities would chop off your head—the price was too high. After thinking it over, Yun Ye finally controlled his desire to get a Buddha head to take home.

Pei Family’s Third Son and Yun Ye had both suffered greatly under Old Niu’s command, so naturally their friendship was unbreakable. Taking advantage of the thick fog, the two brothers used the pretext of viewing the beautiful grotto scenery to sneak halfway up the mountain. When they saw the grotto that would be called the Flower Scattering Tower in later generations, their resentment greatly increased. It was this damned place where their camera had been forcibly taken away under the noble name of “Protecting ancient sites is everyone’s responsibility—no photography allowed.”

The camera was only returned to them when they left. One had to admire Buddha’s greatness—in less than ten minutes, a high-end Japanese-made camera was forcibly transformed into a domestic camera. If you love your country, you can’t love it like this! Say a few more words and brawny security guards would take you away for a talk.

The Eight Heavenly Dragons on the cliff wall were either charming or fierce, but they fundamentally could not suppress Yun Ye’s fury. He grabbed his horizontal blade, about to strike whichever one looked pleasing to the eye, when he heard a thunderous shout: “Stop!”

Old Cheng walked over accompanied by an old monk, grabbing Pei Third Son who was carefully examining a flying celestial’s chest. Good heavens, why would the General be here?

“I pay my respects to the General.” He quickly performed the courtesy. With outsiders present, he couldn’t call him Uncle.

“What are you two doing here? Why are you engaging in such disrespectful behavior in this pure Buddhist land?” Old Cheng had always been on good terms with Maiji Shan’s Tanyin. Today the great army was passing by Maiji Shan, so in the evening he came to find the old monk for conversation, not expecting to catch Yun Ye and Pei Third Son red-handed.

“This humble officer saw these cliff stone carvings were exceptionally exquisite and couldn’t help being moved. General, please look at this bas-relief dancing celestial, freely spinning in the void among fresh flowers and auspicious clouds. The ingenious and unique expression of lightness and grace added a sense of fluidity—truly beautiful beyond compare.”

The old monk nodded repeatedly. Cheng Yaojin gained much face. Yun Ye was dumbfounded. Could it be that among these four people, only this old master was a pervert? He had clearly seen this fellow lecherously caressing the sculpture’s chest—how did it suddenly transform into artistic appreciation in the blink of an eye?

“What are you doing with that blade? Don’t tell me you want to damage the Buddha statue?” Old Cheng turned his gaze to Yun Ye and asked.

“How would this humble officer dare harbor such evil intentions? It’s just that seeing each of the Eight Heavenly Dragons with their overwhelming killing aura, as if they would come alive and devour people, this humble officer, being a military man, couldn’t help but develop thoughts of self-protection. I’ve made the Master laugh.”

The old monk laughed heartily.

“This evening, this old monk felt distinguished guests were arriving. I didn’t expect it would be you two young friends. Young friend, to have some enlightenment before the Buddha bodies of the Eight Heavenly Dragons is truly cause for celebration. The Eight Heavenly Dragons are the Dharma protector deities of our Buddhist faith, bearing the heaviest aura of death. For the young general to have enlightenment, he must have deep Buddhist affinity.”

The old monk was thin and gaunt, yet his muscles and bones were extraordinarily large. His pitch-black eyes were set in deep sockets. His words were kind, but his eyes held no compassion—there was a feeling of being watched by a wolf. This old monk was no simple matter. Pretending to be attracted by the Buddhist statue art, Yun Ye visited them one by one. The old monk explained each one—his knowledge was indeed vast.

Yun Ye spoke at length about how the birthplace of Emperor Yan would surely have flourishing incense offerings. “Land of outstanding people” had always been a good compliment since ancient times. Sure enough, the cold intent in the old monk’s eyes lessened somewhat, and the feeling of being watched by a fierce beast also disappeared without a trace. In his excitement, he walked ahead with spittle flying, acting as tour guide, talking about “Thousand Buddha Corridor, Ten Thousand Buddha Hall, Kite Turning Over Calf Hall.”

The small cave passing through the mountain’s nose had not yet been excavated. Yun Ye would die before pulling on iron chains to swing forward. Good heavens! The Heavenly King was already standing on the ox’s back—wasn’t it said he slowly stepped up? Look how he trampled the calf—its neck stretched out crying. Even with immense strength, you can’t abuse it like this. Turning around to ask the old monk why he would create a thousand-year deception, he saw the old monk, Old Cheng, and Pei Third Son looking at him very strangely. Of course—if you’re more familiar with someone else’s home than the owner, you’re either a traitor or a thief! Under the old monk’s pressure, Yun Ye forgot he was currently in the Tang Dynasty, not in the later generations with throngs of vehicles and horses. He gave an awkward chuckle.

“Could this young general be a disciple of the Dharma Flower Sect?” Damn it, the old monk’s eyes were ill-intentioned again.

“No, I am my teacher’s disciple. I don’t believe in Buddhism.”

“Young general indeed has deep Buddhist affinity. To know without prior acquaintance is truly strange. ‘Thousand Buddha Corridor, Ten Thousand Buddha Hall, Kite Turning Over Calf Hall’—this folk rhyme is quite interesting. It’s just that this ‘Calf Hall’ name was only decided by this poor monk last night and has not been told to anyone. I wonder how the young general learned of it?”

Damn it, you should have said so earlier! The Buddhist world is full of kind-faced swindlers. Even its subordinate organizations cannot be trusted. In later generations he was deceived by tour guides, and now encountering the real master, how could he explain himself? Yun Ye roared in his heart.

“Coincidence, coincidence. Perhaps at that moment my heart and the Master’s were momentarily in harmony.” He could only say this. Although having one’s heart in harmony with a monk was somewhat nauseating, at this moment he couldn’t worry about such things.

The old monk gave a light “oh” and stopped questioning. Yun Ye’s heart also settled down, and the several people resumed their previous tourist appearance.

After having simple vegetarian food and tasting strange-flavored tea with various bizarre seasonings added, harmony prevailed. Suddenly the old monk asked Yun Ye again: “What eminent personage is your esteemed teacher? This poor monk has also traveled the world—perhaps we are old acquaintances.”

Yun Ye nearly choked to death on tea: “My teacher calls himself Xiaoyao Zi. I wonder if the Master has heard of him?”

The old monk shook his head, seeming to fall into contemplation and spoke no more.

Cheng Yaojin bid farewell to the old monk, taking Yun Ye and Pei Third Son down from Maiji Shan. Surrounded by personal guards, they talked and laughed cheerfully, harmonious all the way. Only when they reached the military camp did Old Cheng look at the two with a half-smile: “Next time you do such pointless things, look carefully before striking. That old monk Tanyin is the chief of the Shaolin Temple’s Eighteen Cudgel Monks. It’s said his cudgel technique has reached the grandmaster realm. Today if this old man had not been present, you two would not have kept your dog legs.” Having said this, he left with a chuckle, leaving the two to exhale deeply, still frightened afterward. That old monk was terrifying indeed.

Recalling the dangerous encounter at Maiji Shan, Yun Ye was filled with curiosity. After asking Niu Jinda, he learned that this old monk Tanyin had frequently visited the Prince of Qin’s residence when His Majesty was still Prince of Qin. His Majesty and the Empress treated him with great respect. Provoking him would not end well.

That Pei Family Third Son also did not come from an ordinary family. His grandfather was the famous Peiji, renowned throughout the Tang court and realm for his deep cunning. He dominated two generations of the Great Tang without diminishing imperial favor. With this explanation, Yun Ye understood. The fellow who legendarily used the alias Shi Zhixuan was his grandfather? The Evil King of a generation—couldn’t be beaten to death, boiled rotten, or fried thoroughly—a copper pea. Why were all the people around him such formidably abnormal fellows? Even though Yun Ye knew that Shi Zhixuan was a character from novels, how many of the fellows who could be fantasized about in novels were ordinary people? Forget it. Li’er’s court was hardly a court—it was simply a concentration camp for abnormal people. For someone ordinary like himself, to cherish life it was better to stay far away.

The remaining journey was much easier. As the great army consumed grain, the grain on the wheelbarrows had already been emptied by one-third. Moreover, the great army had nearly reached Chencang, which would be Baoji City in later generations. The roads gradually became flat, human habitation also gradually increased—only the cold wind was piercing. Winter had finally arrived.

Yun Ye huddled in the horse cart, his entire body wrapped in various furs, his person bloated like a bear. Outside the cart, the great army braved wind and snow marching on the royal road. Everyone had become snowmen—only the white vapor they exhaled proved the existence of life.

They fundamentally were not afraid of the cold. The iron armor over their furs still rang crisply. Away from home for two years, on this day of wind and snow they set foot on Guanzhong soil. Mere cold could not obstruct their enthusiasm for returning home.

“Waiting for my beloved’s return, tears sing for you.” This line of lyrics floated through Yun Ye’s mind.