Chapter 206 – The World Will Change

“I ask that you, Daoist Friend Lu… take them in.”

Seeing the fat monk standing there with palms pressed together in a formal salute, Lu Liangsheng didn’t quite know what to say. In just two days, first Wang Banxia had come, then a three-year-old child—and now, even better, three had arrived all at once.

…I’m still studying under a master myself.

A wry, half-laughing feeling rose in Lu Liangsheng’s heart, though his expression remained composed. Before these three youths, he did not reveal anything too inappropriate.

Although he had only known the monk for a short time, they had shared a life-and-death bond. The scholar did not say much more, only asking why Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple had refused to take the boy in.

The monk tilted his head toward the youth, then turned back with a faint smile.

“This poor monk… at first thought the boy’s baleful aura… too heavy. Later… I realized… his spirit is proud. The abbot… wished to enlighten him, but unintentionally discovered… he is…”

Fa Jing lowered his voice: “The reincarnation of a divine artifact. Only a Buddha Lord can deliver such a being. But where would a Buddha Lord come from in the temple? All are merely mortals.”

Across the stone table, a teacup was gently set down. Lu Liangsheng looked toward the three youths—his gaze falling on Yuwen Tuo, whose eyes were one blue and one brown.

This was the first time he had heard of a divine artifact reincarnation.

When they had met earlier in Heliang Prefecture, he had only thought the boy possessed an innate spiritual root. He hadn’t expected such a background. As for Lu Liangsheng himself, he only possessed a sentient magic sword and a treasure scroll—he had never even heard of divine artifacts before.

“That child, what artifact is he the reincarnation of?”

“The Kunlun Mirror.”

Fa Jing’s tone was calm. Having traveled south all this way, he had clearly grown accustomed to the matter. He lowered his hands from the prayer seal, lifted the teacup, and took a sip, his gaze drifting around the small courtyard. The old tree swayed gently, mottled light flickering beneath it, a leaf drifting down. The monk reached out and caught the slightly yellowed cypress leaf.

“Daoist Friend Lu is a man of great virtue. Even in such a place, there is rare peace. This poor monk brought him here… in the hope that you may guide him with the learning and virtue found in your books, so he does not stray onto a crooked path and bring calamity upon the mortal world.”

“Mm.”

Lu Liangsheng frowned slightly and murmured in thought. He picked up the kettle and refilled the monk’s teacup, quietly sorting through the cause and effect of the matter.

“So before this, Master, when you brought him back to Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple, it was to guide him and have him take refuge in the Buddhist path, so he wouldn’t be used by others. Unfortunately, upon discovering he is the reincarnation of a divine artifact, you were left with no means—so now you wish for me to use learning and virtue to teach him to distinguish right from wrong, and understand how to conduct himself.”

Over there, Fa Jing closed the withered leaf in his hand, lowered his head, and bowed toward the scholar.

Lu Liangsheng pressed his hands on his knees, lips tightly pursed. His gaze passed over the monk and landed on the three youths. “Then what about the other one?”

“There is one more… just an ordinary commoner’s child. However, he is quite close to Yuwen Tuo. The latter refused to become a monk, so he followed along… His name is Qu Yuanfeng.”

The monk let out a sigh and sat back down. “…These are difficult times. I had originally intended to send this child to the capital of Southern Chen and entrust him to the authorities. But while crossing the river, I heard calamity was coming, so I brought him along as well.”

“What calamity?” Lu Liangsheng paused, teacup held near his lips.

“War. Northern Zhou is no more—it is now called Sui. Yang Jian has ascended the throne, and before long, he will send troops south, crossing the river…”

Yang Jian has proclaimed himself emperor…

Thinking back to that day in the rain at the pavilion, that man remained vivid in Lu Liangsheng’s memory. The aura of a rising dragon had already surpassed his mortal bearing—his ascension to imperial power was only natural. That day, Lu Liangsheng had simply gone along with the flow and spoken of his destined imperial success.

As for such matters—like what had happened in the Chen court—Lu Liangsheng no longer felt much enthusiasm. Governing as an official and managing the people, he now regarded with more detachment. If the realm were ruled by a capable sovereign, it might not be a bad thing.

At this thought, he smiled faintly and drank the tea in one gulp.

“If North and South can one day be unified, that would be good as well. At the very least, the common people may enjoy lasting peace.”

Setting down the teacup, Lu Liangsheng did not continue discussing the impending war. As he stood up, the three youths over there immediately straightened their backs, lining up in a row.

However, the scholar did not look at them. Instead, he walked to the kitchen, pushed open the door, and saw Lu Laoshi eating with a bowl in hand. The latter froze for a moment, food still in his mouth, as his gaze met his son’s.

“What are you staring at me for?!”

The scholar sat down opposite him and smiled. “Father, I think the house needs some renovation. There might not be enough rooms.”

“Huh?!”

Lu Laoshi forcefully swallowed the food in his mouth. Even with his mild-tempered nature, he couldn’t help but become anxious. “Let them stay outside, outside—…!”

Spittle flew everywhere as he spoke, making the Daoist hastily flap his sleeves to block it, only to get a sharp tap from Li Jinhua’s chopsticks.

The woman withdrew her chopsticks, then picked up her husband’s words and looked toward her son.

“They’re all staying? Then how much… will that cost?”

“No need to spend any money.”

With people moving into the house, it was only natural to discuss things with the family. After some deliberation, Lu Liangsheng came out of the room and nodded to the fat monk.

“Let the three of them stay.”

Among them, Li Sui’an was by far the happiest. He grabbed the wooden sword on his back, let out an excited shout, and tossed it into the air. As he jumped around, yelling in delight, a short figure emerged from the vegetable patch, dragging a smoking pipe, swaying as it walked.

“Who just kicked this old man?!”

Li Sui’an, who had just landed, heard the shout and hurriedly lowered his head. There stood a large toad, upright like a human, glaring with puffed cheeks.

“A t-toad… that can talk…”

His mouth fell open in shock, his voice stammering. Beside him, Yuwen Tuo was also somewhat surprised, but he merely snorted coldly.

“What’s there to make a fuss about? Just a toad demon—”

Before he could finish speaking, a shadow leapt up in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, the boy turned his head—reflected in his pupils was a thin smoking pipe rapidly enlarging.

Bang—

One end of the bronze pipe smashed fiercely into Yuwen Tuo’s forehead. Crying out in pain— 

“You dare— you little toad demon—!”

His body lost balance and fell backward with a thud.

Midair, the Toad Daoist dropped down and planted himself on the boy’s chest. Raising the pipe, he began raining down blows onto the youth’s head.

“A toad, am I?!”

Yuwen Tuo covered his face and shouted:

“You dare!!”

The pipe kept coming down.

“You dare, is that it?!”

“…Stop hitting me, it hurts!”

“It hurts, does it?!”

“A ‘little demon’, am I?!”

Li Sui’an and Qu Yuanfeng, standing on either side, watched as the pipe in the toad’s hand struck down again and again with rapid swish swish sounds. Both of them shivered in unison, then turned to look at their master.

Lu Liangsheng smiled. “That is your grandmaster.”

Those words left even the plump monk Fa Jing standing there in a daze. Tea spilled from his cup, yet he didn’t even notice.

Under the eaves, Lu Liangsheng walked over with a faint smile and sat down across the stone table, gesturing for the monk not to worry.

“This is good as well. Let him suffer a bit first—lower his arrogance. Only then will he be easier to teach later.”

His gaze rested on the scene before him, yet his thoughts had already drifted to the capital.

‘The Sui army is marching south… then what will happen to Min Changwen and his daughter? And that mother and son in the palace… Chen Jing should have become emperor by now.’

Within his line of sight, a yellow leaf drifted down, landing in the teacup and sending ripples across the surface.

The wind had turned the leaves yellow. The Southern Chen imperial palace felt desolate and bleak. Not long had passed since the emperor’s funeral, yet news of the Sui army marching south had already piled upon the young emperor’s dragon desk.

“Mother… what should I, Zhen, do?!”

The study was brightly lit, flames flickering. In their unsteady glow stood Zhang Lihua, dressed in plain mourning clothes. Without makeup, her face appeared haggard.

“Your Majesty, you should no longer call me ‘mother’. You must correct this. You are now the Emperor—you must learn to make decisions yourself.”

Behind the dragon desk, Chen Jing clenched his teeth. After a long while, he lifted his face, still bearing traces of youthful immaturity.

“Zhen wishes to go and see Mister Lu, and personally invite him to come out of seclusion and assist the court.”