The courtyard was filled with ceramic jars. Cheng Xuanying was carefully wiping the dust from the jars. Disheveled and filthy, his Daoist robes were stained with grease and had several holes—not a trace remained of Master Xihua’s transcendent bearing.
“Silence is actually the best form of cultivation.” Cheng Xuanying smiled as he took a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in Yun Ye’s hand. He then sat cross-legged among the pile of jars, quietly chanting sutras. Without his tongue and stripped of his magnificent robes, Yun Ye felt this fellow seemed even more like a true monk. The compassion contained in his eyes made people involuntarily want to draw near to him, as if simply being close to him could bring peace and joy.
These past days, Cheng Xuanying had traversed the entire Eastern Sea coast—not on horseback, not by carriage, but on foot, walking through every village and hamlet. He was spreading his teachings, not with words, but through his own actions.
He distributed his wealth to those in need of help and donated his luxurious Daoist robes to a small temple with only one priest. Around that dilapidated but constantly visited temple, the villagers believed only in the Three Pure Ones and no other deities, even though there was a large temple in a scenic spot not far away.
At the small temple, he performed the disciple’s rites before the aged priest and personally repaired every damaged part of the temple. Daily he watched the old priest bless the villagers who came to offer incense, dispel disasters, watched him stitch clothing needle by needle for beggar children, watched him help wronged common people seek redress, and watched him treat villagers with his less-than-brilliant medical skills. Some prescriptions were inaccurate—Cheng Xuanying believed the old priest had definitely killed more patients than he had saved.
Then one night of mixed rain and snow, the old priest died—not murdered, but simply because he was too old. He went to heaven in his sleep.
Cheng Xuanying insisted the old priest had died peacefully, wearing his usual compassionate expression, departing with a smile. Before death, he must have already cast off the bonds of his physical body and reached another realm.
After taking a sip of tea, Cheng Xuanying continued writing on paper: “When one person died, ten thousand wept. Villagers came with their families, bringing the best food from their homes to see the old priest off. Several elderly people even donated their own coffins to the old priest. I originally planned to hold the body for six days before placing him in the tomb, but who knew that even after forty-nine days, villagers from distant places were still arriving to attend this old priest’s funeral.”
The villagers ignored Cheng Xuanying’s presence and disregarded the Daoist rules against bathing, changing clothes, or placing the body in a coffin. They stubbornly insisted on conducting an elaborate funeral as they would for their own relatives.
“Marquis Yun, the old priest’s body remained unchanged for forty-nine days, still lifelike. Even his hair, beard, and nails continued growing. The villagers firmly believe the old priest has attained the Way and ascended. They didn’t bury his remains underground but built him a pagoda instead. Though not tall—only five zhang—it’s all constructed of green bricks. Now after worshipping the Three Pure Ones, the villagers go to pay respects to the old priest. Clearly, the old priest has become a deity, an immortal.”
“Cheng Xuanying, did you seek me out just to tell me this? If you have a request, speak plainly. Considering how you’ve traveled throughout the Eastern Sea exposing corrupt practices during this time, I’ll agree.”
Cheng Xuanying opened his mouth and laughed twice soundlessly, his hand continuing to write rapidly: “Marquis Yun, I only wish to ask you to store these fallen soldiers’ ashes at Dengxian Temple. So-called faith and vows are all incense offerings. If the soldiers remain in this auspicious land, they will surely find joy and peace.”
“I’ll investigate. If it’s truly as you say, I’ll store the ashes of the local fallen soldiers at Dengxian Temple. The ashes of the sons of Guanzhong I must still bring back to Chang’an to return to their families.”
Cheng Xuanying pressed one hand to his chest and smiled in agreement, appearing quite confident.
“If the temple is too small, I can contribute money to build a larger one.”
“No need to trouble Marquis Yun. The faithful have already begun expanding the temple. Every brick and tile comes from donations. This poor priest intends to build this temple into the common people’s own temple, so there’s no need for government involvement, nor do I wish for wealthy households to donate. I’d rather beg for alms one coin at a time in the countryside than use Marquis Yun’s wealth.”
“Very well then, Cheng Xuanying. Here’s a bag of gold sand—take it. Don’t see it as money, just consider it building material. Whether for Buddha statues or immortal images, all need gold powder. If you want to collect gold through rural alms, I’m afraid it will be very difficult. These hundred taels of gold—grind them into gold powder. Don’t consider it charity. This is payment for storing the soldiers’ ashes. No need to be polite.”
Cheng Xuanying was someone who had seen much of the world and naturally wouldn’t regard a hundred taels of gold as particularly important. He bowed his head in thanks, then shouldered the bag of gold sand and left the prefectural office, waiting for Yun Ye to send people to investigate his Dengxian Temple.
He asked the soldiers and also asked the families of the deceased. When they heard about storing the ashes at Dengxian Temple, they immediately agreed. Even several families who had planned to bring the ashes back to their ancestral graves changed their minds. It seemed this temple’s reputation and feng shui were exceptionally good.
Officials from the Ministry of Rites brought Li Er’s decree, ordering Yun Ye to immediately set out to return to Chang’an. The soldiers’ ashes would naturally be handled by local officials and Ministry of Rites personnel.
April twentieth, auspicious for travel and sacrifice. Yun Ye boarded ship at Zhuozhou. Bidding farewell to the naval officers remaining behind, he returned to Chang’an with over ten thousand men. When he came, he brought many jars; unexpectedly, when leaving, the ships were still full of jars.
The navy’s return to the capital brought the greatest joy to the haulers. Those haulers who performed labor service every year most enjoyed encountering the Lingnan Navy’s fleet. Though all were work assignments, only working for the navy provided wages and sufficient food. So as Yun Ye enjoyed the scenery on both banks, he could still hear the haulers’ freely given work songs.
Wherever Yun Ye went, ghosts and spirits kept their distance. The previous incident on the canal when he dismantled a prince’s barge into fragments—every boatman who regularly traveled this river knew about it. Now, as soon as they saw the huge character “Yun” hanging on the ship, they all pulled to shore to avoid it. No one dared approach within five zhang.
When the ship reached Luoyang, Dan Ying went ashore with Gou Zi without telling anyone. Dan Ying wanted to see if his house had been built, while Gou Zi was avoiding Hong Cheng’s daughter. One could imagine his suffering—a handsome, promising young man inevitably pursued by bold women. Yun Ye always suspected Hong Cheng’s shadow lurked behind this affair.
“This old man has met Hong Cheng’s child—a good girl! Round face, broad hips, clearly made for childbearing. Why can’t that boy Gou Zi appreciate her? This old man has seen countless beauties in the palace—what’s so good about them? Beautiful as flowers on the outside, cruel and vicious on the inside. How can they compare to Red Girl’s honest nature? This old man most likes such children. No matter how inadequate Hong Cheng may be, he’s still a proper earl. Red Girl is born of the primary wife—a completely proper young lady. What right does he have to look down on her? That boy will probably never achieve noble rank in his entire life. Now an earl’s daughter has taken a liking to him—why isn’t he climbing up that pole? What’s he waiting for? This old man doesn’t have many years left. Can’t I see my own dear grandson before I die? Outrageous!”
Wu She raged and fumed in the cabin, several times wanting to rush ashore to drag Gou Zi back. He wished they could marry immediately upon return and have a child the very next day. Lacking function himself, he placed all his hopes for grandchildren on Gou Zi. The more Yun Ye looked at Wu She, the more he resembled that old ancestor in his own family—Grandmother Yun had been exactly like this in the old days.
“A forced melon isn’t sweet. Old brother, can you calm down for a moment? You’ve been scolding for nearly an hour. The young man isn’t anxious—what are you so worked up about? Can you enter the bridal chamber in his place?”
“You old codger, are you trying to rub salt in this old man’s wounds? This old man’s hands are particularly itchy today. If you’ve got the guts, come to the deck and exchange a few moves. Let’s see whether your mouth is more wicked or this old man’s palm strikes more sinister.”
When it came to fighting, eight Liu Fangs together wouldn’t be Wu She’s match. Raising his hands, he picked up the teapot, brought his little grandson, and left the cabin. People in a rage had no reason—it would be bad if he got hurt.
For Wu She, these mundane worldly troubles were his greatest enjoyment. Having never experienced such trivial matters in his lifetime, now that he was experiencing them, he was completely immersed and couldn’t extricate himself. Rather than scolding Gou Zi, he was enjoying this feeling while showing off his disciple’s high standards to Liu Fang. Liu Fang had heard Wu She’s subtext and thus counterattacked verbally. Mutual deprecation and insults—this was also one of the two old men’s pleasures.
A large flock of pigeons flew overhead, heading straight for Chang’an city. Yun Ye had originally planned to have someone shoot down all these pigeons to make soup for dinner, but on second thought, dismissed the idea. Let those people in Chang’an city wait in panic. He didn’t know if the envoys from Goryeo and Wa had gone to protest. They still didn’t know what kind of crisis and trouble this military operation had actually caused. If they didn’t want to tear off the mask with Goryeo, Baekje, and Wa right now, they would have to endure those envoys’ spittle.
Yun Ye’s battle report was written extremely vaguely, only reporting that he had brought back all the soldiers’ remains. As for how he breached the cities, how he burned, killed, and plundered—not a word. Even less would he state clearly in the military report that he had incidentally kidnapped a Wa princess. Once everything erupted, they would realize just how terrifying the scapegoat they were shouldering truly was.
Li Er was rubbing his temples and sighing as he read the battle report. Beside it was a confidential report from the Bai Qi Si. Looking at the battle report, then glancing at the secret report, he felt his headache growing increasingly severe.
“You little bastard, what did you do in Goryeo? Burning, killing, plundering, looting civilian wealth—aside from rape, you’ve committed every single crime in the military code! Excellent! And selling heads? That’s something that can be sold? One head for forty guan? Damn it, even I want to sell them. Next time I finish a battle, I’ll hand all the heads over to you to sell. If you can’t get forty guan, I’ll charge you with embezzling state funds…”