Chapter 100

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“Daoist friends Lu and Sun, quickly surround that monk!”

The evening glow stained the sky with a crimson hue.

Amidst drifting specks of light and dust, the two cultivators who had been keeping watch on the plump monk moved swiftly. Their feet barely touched the ground before shifting to the next step, unconsciously following the principles of Qinggong.

If they couldn’t handle this monk before them, a mere tap of their feet would allow them to retreat with ease and seek reinforcements. Knowing that the scholar and Daoist were also coming to aid them, they hastily urged:

“Don’t let him escape! If we miss this chance, capturing him next time will be far more difficult!”

Up ahead, the plump monk clutched a yellow cloth sack in one hand while forming a mudra with the other. His expression was fierce, his narrow eyes sweeping over the two cultivators before glancing toward the approaching scholar and Daoist. He let out a short snort from his nose.

“You two, come!”

Yet, midway, the scholar and the Daoist made no move. The two cultivators, growing anxious, turned their heads—only to see Lu Liangsheng holding a longsword, gazing at them with thin lips slightly parted.

“Do you two recognize Daoist Yangming?”

Yangming?

The two cultivators were momentarily stunned. Exchanging a glance, they suddenly turned and fled, activating a spell incantation. In an instant, they soared over the mountain ridge and vanished into the sunset glow.

“Hey, hey! What kind of riddle is this…? What Yangming Dao—”

Sun Yinxian chased after the scholar, grumbling halfway before his eyes widened in realization.

“Daoist Yangming, that wicked Daoist we encountered in He Valley Prefecture?”

“Who else could it be? Now you understand, don’t you? That Zhu Ziyi you know—he’s using this monk to get rid of the two of us.”

The scholar flicked his wrist, his sleeve fluttering as he sheathed his longsword with a crisp shua sound. While responding to the Daoist, he also stepped toward the plump monk and cupped his hands in greeting.

“Lu Liangsheng of Mount Qixia greets the honored master.”

Sensing no hostility from the scholar, but rather a calm and scholarly air, the plump monk merely nodded. He tossed the large sack over his back, then turned and strode forward. In the blink of an eye, he had covered two or three zhangs of distance.

For Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist, keeping up was no difficult task. One employed Shrinking the Earth into an Inch, while the other cast Swiftstride. In mere moments, they had crossed more than half the mountain.

The barren mountaintop and withered old forest passed by in a blur as Lu Liangsheng sped forward, his gaze locked onto the broad, stout figure ahead.

The reason he chose to trust the monk lay in his own reasoning. Back in He Valley Prefecture, Zuo Zhengyang had suspected that the emblem was a sect insignia belonging to cultivators. Meanwhile, Daoist Yangming had inexplicably destroyed himself in prison. Now, seeing the same emblem on that corpse, it seemed even more likely that he had been silenced.

If it were a legitimate sect, even if there were evildoers among them, they would never resort to such insidious techniques against their own members. The only explanation was that someone was trying to prevent any further leads from exposing their sect. Just now, the moment he mentioned Daoist Yangming’s name, those two cultivators’ expressions had shifted slightly before they turned and fled.

The simplest conclusion:

They knew that Daoist Yangming had violated some taboo and had been silenced by his own sect.

Yet, what Lu Liangsheng found most absurd was how the side he had thought to be evil had suddenly turned out to be the righteous one.

As this thought crossed his mind, the figure running ahead suddenly stopped. Lu Liangsheng dispelled his Shrinking the Earth into an Inch technique, his feet sinking slightly as he slowed down. Around him, the mountains revealed patches of verdant greenery, a stark contrast to the withered desolation of the northwest from where they had come.

“This…” Lu Liangsheng frowned as he observed the striking difference.

Thud.

The plump monk set his yellow cloth sack on the ground, paying no mind to the scholar, who was frowning in deep thought. Loosening the sack’s opening, he let two children with pigtails crawl out. They appeared to be no more than five or six years old, yet they showed not the slightest fear of the fierce-looking monk.

Instead, they reached out their dirty little hands, taking flatcakes from the monk before sitting cross-legged on the ground, chewing away while watching the Daoist running toward them from the distance.

The youngest of the two lifted his small face and couldn’t help but exclaim:

“Wow… Brother, look! That person runs so fast!”

“Mm, but he’s not as amazing as Master Monk…”

Mouths full of food, the two little ones chomped away in small crescent-shaped bites. The plump monk tore at the fabric of his robe, exposing his shoulder. His back was riddled with deep, crisscrossing wounds, fresh blood streaming down his thick skin.

As he raised the torn cloth to press against his wounds, a figure in white robes stepped forward. The monk’s narrow eyes lifted slightly, watching as the scholar beside him reached out, taking the cloth and threading it under his arm.

“Let me help you.”

After securing the bandage with a knot, Lu Liangsheng spoke softly:

“You were saving these children, weren’t you?”

Not far away, the Daoist who had been playing with the children also looked up. The plump monk, always taciturn, remained silent for a long moment. His thick lips finally parted, and he uttered a single word.

“Yes.”

Lu Liangsheng let out a breath and sat down beside them, gazing at the setting sun in the west. After a moment of thought, he asked:

“What were they stealing these children and women for?”

“Don’t know.”

Whether the monk truly didn’t know or simply refused to say was unclear. His face, thick with flesh, remained unreadable, and every time he spoke, it was with no more than two or three words, never anything extra. The Daoist beside him grew anxious, hopping around in frustration, nearly grabbing the monk’s mouth to pry it open, desperate for him to say more.

The plump monk glanced at the two of them, then turned back, forming a mudra with his hands before closing his eyes. He spoke in his usual slow, fragmented manner:

“This humble monk… at first… also thought… they were… people who save the suffering… But one day… by chance, I saw… them setting up… a formation…”

His speech was halting, as though he had a slight stutter. Lu Liangsheng smiled and placed a calming hand on the agitated Daoist’s shoulder. “No rush.” Then, he turned back to the monk and asked:

“Master, what kind of formation was it? What was it used for?”

“Earthly Fiend Yin Fire…” The monk shook his large, bald head. “The northwest… is suffering from… severe drought… because of it…”

After saying this, he opened his eyes and gazed at the sky dyed red by the setting sun.

“The earth fire burns… the moisture rises… but never falls… leaving all life… in ruin…”

“Master, do you know how to break the formation?”

The monk shook his head. “Don’t know.”

Beside him, Sun Yingsian, already irritable, was completely exasperated. He jumped to his feet, scratching his head as he paced back and forth.

“You don’t know this, you don’t know that. You’re a monk, and yet you got yourself falsely accused of kidnapping children! Aren’t you afraid of disgracing the temple you came from?”

The plump monk shook his head again.

“Not afraid!”

The crimson afterglow of the sunset was slowly swallowed by the encroaching night. In the woods, a bonfire crackled to life. Lu Liangsheng had the two children sit by the fire to warm themselves. Taking out a few pieces of dry rations he carried, he handed them to the Daoist and the monk. With a soft crack, he snapped a branch and tossed it into the flames.

Crackle…

The dry wood burned, snapping apart, embers spiraling upward with the heat. Lu Liangsheng was calm and unassuming. The Daoist, though impatient, was straightforward and genuine. The monk was taciturn, his words sparse. In the short time they had spent together, they had grown familiar with one another.

“Fat Monk, which temple are you from?”

“Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery… Ordained there… My master… is Zhenhai… But… this humble monk… has already left the temple… to cultivate on his own.”

Lu Liangsheng snapped another dried branch, tossing it into the fire. The flickering flames illuminated his face as his gaze fell upon the large monk across from him.

“Master, have you attained perfect merit?”

“…This humble monk was… expelled… Mm… Ate too much… Couldn’t chant scriptures properly…”

Uh…

Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist were momentarily stunned. Their mouths twitched before they both burst into laughter.

“This humble monk… shall not… speak with you any longer.”

The monk furrowed his thick brows, adjusted his robe, and stood up. The Daoist quickly stifled his laughter and waved his hands. “My apologies, my apologies. I really couldn’t hold it in. Don’t leave just yet.”

“This humble monk must escort these two children away. There is still… an important task… to be done… later tonight.”

The monk helped the two children into a cloth sack and hoisted them onto his uninjured shoulder. Then, he turned to look at the scholar and the Daoist.

“You two benefactors… turned against them halfway… surely alerting the enemy… Tonight, they will… relocate… the children and women they’ve… gathered. It is the perfect chance… to intercept them… along the way.”

Lu Liangsheng dusted off his hands and stood up. He secured the Veiled Moon Sword at his waist before cupping his hands.

“I would be honored to lend a hand.”

The Daoist beside him clapped and stood up as well, nodding eagerly. “Exactly, exactly! Even if we can’t win, we can at least cheer from the sidelines.”

Monk: “……”

After a brief, speechless pause, the plump monk took two steps before turning back around.

“This humble monk… is Fajing.”

Lu Liangsheng smiled, sweeping his robe aside as he cupped his hands again.

“Lu Liangsheng of Mount Qixia.”

The Daoist also clasped his hands. “No sect, no school, Sun Yingsian!”

The monk, his face glowing with red light, nodded before executing a qinggong technique. His rotund figure shot forth like a flying swallow diving into the forest. His monk’s robes flapped audibly in the wind before his silhouette disappeared into the night.

Lu Liangsheng lowered his hands and gazed into the darkness for a while before turning to face the Daoist.

“Let’s head back. Master is probably growing impatient.”

“Hold on.” Sun Yingsian untied his water pouch, unscrewed the lid, and poured water over the fire.

Sizzle…

Sizzle, sizzle…

The clear water drowned the flames, sending up thick white smoke that drifted past the scholar’s vision.

Lu Liangsheng watched as the campfire gradually died out. In that moment of daze, his fingers suddenly clenched.

“Perhaps… there is a way.”

He murmured softly.