Chapter 163 – My Master’s Death Anniversary, Once More I Ask His Majesty for an Explanation

“Lord Min, you mustn’t!”

Zuo Zhengyang, arms folded and leaning against the wall, called out. Min Changwen, who had just stepped past the doorway, glanced at him, lips pressed tight.

“I cannot bear for an old friend to be left without even an epitaph. You would not wish that either, would you?”

The wind blew in through the open door. Zuo Zhengyang, who had been about to dissuade him further, closed his mouth. Looking toward that scholar, he silently turned his head aside.

“…Indeed. Very well. What happened today—Zuo will not utter a single word of it.”

Lu Liangsheng cupped his hands toward him. “My thanks, Thousand-Guard Zuo.” Having said this, he walked out of the small courtyard together with Minister Min. The gatekeeper, seeing his master come forth with the scholar, hurriedly pushed the gates wide and withdrew to the side.

“Liangsheng, let us depart.”

When the two left the Min Residence, they saw the Daoist priest waiting beside the old donkey. Min Changwen started slightly, clearly not expecting to find another here.

“Heh, heh. Lord Minister Min, what kind of face is that? Have you forgotten me already?” The Daoist was not the least formal, merely offering a casual cupped-hand salute.

Min Changwen gave a wry smile and returned the courtesy. The old donkey pawed its hooves against the ground with a few thuds, snorting twice, as though reminding him it too was an “old acquaintance.”

“Who goes there?!”

Just as the three gathered, from the side of the government postroad, a squad of patrolling soldiers noticed the odd scene and came running, weapons clattering, armor rattling.

“I am Min Changwen, Minister of Appointments! Do you not recognize me?”

“Ah—truly Minister Min! This lowly officer pays respects to the Minister.”

The leader of the guards hastily bowed with cupped hands, though his eyes still darted warily toward the figure in the bamboo hat, as well as the Daoist and the donkey. Then with a wave, he led his men away.

When their footsteps had receded, Lu Liangsheng at last lifted his head. He had concealed himself so as not to bring trouble upon Min Changwen. The three wasted no more words of courtesy. Bringing the Minister with them, they employed the spell of passing unseen through walls and went straight toward the northern outskirts of the city.

The clear moon hung high; drifting clouds moved slowly across the sky.

Caw, caw—

From the branches came the eerie cries of crows, their red-tinged eyes blinking. Below, three figures passed, followed by a donkey, walking through the desolate woods. Exiting the small grove, by the cold moonlight, they could see before them mound upon mound of graves stretching far into the distance.

“This is the northern outskirts’ mass graveyard.” Min Changwen’s voice sighed among the three.

Lu Liangsheng loosened the donkey’s reins, walking amidst the weed-choked mounds. Many graves had been clawed open by beasts, the bones within exposed. Some, buried in haste, still had straw mats protruding, while here and there fresh pits had been dug—no time yet to bury the bodies, corpses still lay to the side.

The scholar closed his eyes for a moment, then raised his hand. With a wave toward a pit, his spiritual energy lifted the corpse together with its straw mat, sending it into the hollow.

“Old Sun, lend a hand. Bury this one in earth.”

“You… always ordering me about.”

Sun Yingxian curled his lips, yet still roused his earth-controlling arts, shifting the loose soil around until the body was covered.

On the other side, Min Changwen led the scholar forward. Stopping at the very center, he crouched before the largest mound.

“Master Shuhua, your student has come to see you.”

Lu Liangsheng closed his eyes, suppressing the grief within his heart, and spoke softly: “Minister Min, step aside.”

Facing the grave, he raised both hands. The soil atop the mound suddenly shuddered. Under Min Changwen’s gaze, those raised hands parted to either side, and the earth split open, surging upward like water. In but a moment, a coffin was lifted from the ground by the moving soil.

Having already witnessed the art of passing unseen through walls, Min Changwen managed to suppress his astonishment. Looking at the coffin, his voice grew hoarse.

“I could not bear for my old friend’s body to be despoiled by beasts. So I spent some coin to bribe the grave-diggers, and secretly had the coffin exchanged.”

“On behalf of my late master, Liangsheng thanks Minister Min.”

Lu Liangsheng bowed deeply, forcing down his emotions. He stepped to the coffin, laid a hand upon it, his throat tight, and in a voice low and heavy, he called:

“Liangsheng has returned to see you.”

Then, with a sudden strike of his palm against one side of the coffin and his other hand gripping its base, he heaved the heavy casket containing Lord Shuhua, hoisting it up onto his shoulder!

“Master, would you like to overlook this city? Liangsheng will take you.”

Before Min Changwen could react, Lu Liangsheng carried the coffin, stamped the ground, and in a flash, his figure soared into the moonlit sky. The Daoist, brushing dust from his palms after burying the corpse, heard the sound of flight and looked afar—high in the moonlight drifted the silhouette bearing the coffin.

“Hey, hey, Old Lu!”

“Lu Liangsheng!! You’re just going to run off like this?!”

The resounding cries echoed in the night wind. Amidst the whistling gusts, the soldiers upon the city wall heard the rattling thuds of wood striking against itself. One after another they looked up, only to see a lone figure drifting past above their heads, bearing upon his shoulder a long, heavy object.

“Not good—there’s a demon entering the city!” “He’s heading toward the Imperial City!”

“Hurry, sound the horn!”

At the shout, one soldier leaped onto the battlement and waved a command flag toward the tower. The next instant, the ox-horn trumpet fixed upon the wall gave forth its call.

Woooo~~~

The horn’s tone was long and desolate. Upon the walls of the Imperial City, the commanding general roared orders. Squads of soldiers hastened into formation, raising bows toward the city below, though none knew the intruder came soaring through the skies.

Boom—

The figure bearing the coffin landed upon a section of the wall. Dust and shattered brick burst outward, the shockwave hurling nearby soldiers tumbling head over heels.

Lu Liangsheng, coffin still upon his shoulder, half crouched to rise. Without so much as a glance at the blades and spears leveled around him, he stepped forward at an unhurried pace.

One soldier, knuckles white upon his spear-shaft, thought to thrust at the coffin-bearer—yet was suddenly seized back by his comrade.

“Don’t strike—do you want to die? That man… seems to be Lu Liangsheng!”

At once, the surrounding soldiers froze, exchanging uneasy looks.

“That one who wields demonic arts…” “Then the coffin upon his shoulder… could it be Lord Shuhua?”

“What are you doing—attack!!”

From the tower, the commanding officer charged forth with blade in hand. Yet in his sight, soldiers to left and right seemed shoved aside by some unseen force, clearing a path as the coffin-bearer strode straight ahead. With a bound, Lu Liangsheng’s foot lashed the officer’s blade wide, then stepped upon his shoulder to vault atop the tower.

Thud—

The coffin stood upright upon the roof tiles. Lu Liangsheng gazed out—rows upon rows of houses and halls stretched unbroken across his vision, a myriad lights shimmering like stars. Lifting his hand to point, he spoke:

“Teacher, look—here you can behold all of Tianzhi laid beneath your eyes. Ten thousand households alight, is it not beautiful? This is the grand scene you yearned for.”

The grief he had suppressed finally burst free. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes, trailing down his cheeks.

“You always taught Liangsheng—to seek blessings for the common people. But for yourself—did you ever seek a single thing? In the end, not even an epitaph was left behind.”

Within the Imperial City, squads of Imperial Guards surged toward the walls. Even more, over a dozen martial experts on night duty within the palace were roused. One after another vaulted onto the ramparts, racing across the high wall.

“You there—who are you?! Descend at once and submit to judgment!”

Upon the tower.

The night wind brushed across Lu Liangsheng’s face. He turned the coffin, gazing toward the imperial palace, where lights blazed bright and voices rose in clamor.

“Teacher, look there. Not a single lamp has been extinguished for your death. They never cared for you—not in the least. Least of all that Emperor upon the dragon throne.”

The scholar patted the coffin gently.

“Your student will demand justice for you. Watch well.”

He paid no heed to the shouts rising from below. Within him, his spiritual energy surged like boiling water, cultivation roiling outward, sending roof tiles clattering into the air.

The next instant—

His words, infused with spiritual power, rolled across the heavens like a thunderclap.

“Emperor of Southern Chen! On the hundredth day anniversary of my master’s passing, the fifteenth of this month, Lu Liangsheng of Mount Qixia shall seek you for an accounting!”

The thunderous cry crashed into the ears. The martial experts rushing from the palace below staggered as one, blood spurting from their mouths as they fell hard to the ground. Though their lives were spared, they clutched their chests in agony, groaning bitterly.

The soldiers upon the walls fared better—merely so terrified that they dropped their weapons. Yet even the palace buildings in the distance trembled and hummed. Hearing the horn’s alarm, Chen Shubao had risen from his couch to listen. Suddenly struck by that thunderous bellow, he started violently, tumbling to the floor.

His eyes bulged wide, finger trembling toward the hall’s entrance.

“Lu… Lu… Lu Liangsheng… he has come…”

Unable to draw another breath, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious. Zhang Lihua and the palace maids fell into a frantic panic, hands fluttering in disorder.

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The night wind wailed. Throughout the city, households stirred in alarm—people stepped from their dwellings or pushed open their lattice windows, straining to see what had happened.

Upon the faraway city tower, Lu Liangsheng—bearing the coffin—had already passed over the city’s skies, descending beyond the walls, treading upon the road that led toward Mount Qixia.