It’s all bad luck
As Gong Jun ran, he reached for the signal tube in his pocket, only to find it missing.
His clothes, torn into rags, could no longer hold anything, likely left in the room they had just escaped from.
Biting his teeth in frustration, Gong Jun stopped and headed to the temple gate, ordering a Jinyiwei guard, “All retreat, quickly!”
The guards, startled by their suddenly appearing Deputy Commander, hesitated to react immediately.
“Everyone retreat from Dragon Claw Peak!” Gong Jun repeated, glancing behind fearfully, dreading Meng Qi’s pursuit.
He remembered how, three years ago, when Master Meng went on a rampage in the imperial city, Gong Jun had looped around the Northern Defense Command five times, barely escaping with his life after being relentlessly pursued. Even now, he had nightmares about it.
“But Deputy Commander, you just ordered…”
One guard started to object, recalling the strict command to guard every entrance of Liuhe Temple and not let anyone escape. Why the sudden change?
Gong Jun had no time for lengthy explanations. “The commotion just now was caused by the former dynasty’s State Teacher, Meng Qi!”
The guard’s face drained of color, and he immediately shouted, “Quick, retreat!”
The shout alerted the nearby Jinyiwei, and the news quickly spread. Though not as fast as a signal tube, the speed was still commendable. The guards, hearing the name “Meng Qi,” immediately changed their expressions and started running, weapons in hand.
No one wanted to test their luck against Meng Qi.
Loyalty to the emperor mattered, but only when the emperor was around.
Now, without such concerns, escaping took precedence over honor — better to lose face than lose life.
Thus, the martial artists locked in the rear courtyard of Liuhe Temple watched in disbelief as the Jinyiwei shouted about Meng Qi and hurriedly disappeared.
So, who was Meng Qi?
Was there a State Teacher in the Qi Dynasty?
They exchanged bewildered looks before a monk cautiously ventured out to check.
“They’re all gone, the Jinyiwei have really left!” the monk returned excitedly.
The martial artists immediately commanded the monks to untie them.
The monks were reluctant, but what choice did they have? They couldn’t confront these people, and with the Jinyiwei gone, there was no point in keeping them tied.
Fearful of retribution from the martial artists’ comrades, the monks had no choice but to untie them, all the while chanting Buddhist scriptures and dissociating Liuhe Temple from the situation.
“Enough with the chatter, you baldies!” a bearded martial artist snapped irritably, impatiently ripping off his ropes and signaling his brothers to leave Liuhe Temple with him.
“Big brother, the Jinyiwei have left, haven’t they?”
“Left, so what?!” the bearded man scowled, “Didn’t you hear the loud noise just now?”
His sworn brother muttered that he did, which was why he wanted to check out the commotion, at least to know what happened so they wouldn’t be clueless when other martial artists asked.
“Nonsense! With your temper, you’ll end up dead outside someday!” the bearded man exclaimed in frustration.
He was in mid-rant when a young novice monk shouted, “Master is in the front courtyard, the roof has collapsed, we need help!”
Then he and three other monks rushed towards the main hall.
The bearded man and his sworn brothers: “…”
Other martial artists: “…”
The bearded man was right, but was this novice monk deliberately opposing them? How could it be so coincidental?
The non-martial monks were rushing to help, making them look cowardly.
“Shall we just take a quick look from afar?” the bearded man’s sworn brother asked hopefully.
The bearded man remained silent, his face dark.
The group cautiously headed towards the front courtyard, weapons in hand.
The novice monk hurried to the main hall, grabbing a broom before rushing into the room, now missing its doors, windows, and roof.
“Let go of my master!”
Mo Li turned his head to see the old monk lying pale-faced on the bed.
They were the only two in the room, as Meng Qi had already left.
The old monk had been “forced” by Mo Li to lie back down, thinking he was doomed. Seeing his young disciple charging in fearlessly, he broke out in cold sweat, desperately gesturing and mouthing for silence, but the novice monk completely misunderstood his intent.
“Who are you?” the novice monk confronted Mo Li, initially taken aback and then seemingly recalling something. He raised his broom defiantly, saying, “Don’t you dare! Our temple has many people! And officials too! They just killed a notorious bandit!”
Recalling the corpse in the back courtyard, the novice monk turned pale and almost vomited.
“Om Amitabha Buddha, Tathagata Buddha, Medicine Buddha…”
Mo Li watched the novice monk frantically chanting, then turned to the old monk, “Do you really plan to take those people’s gold and live as a wealthy man in the south?”
The old monk’s expression was complex as he looked at the novice monk.
Two other monks peeked around the courtyard, but only this naïve disciple had rushed in.
“How did you get your monk’s certificate?”
“…I’ve long thought of escaping, so I stole a certificate from a foreign monk at Baoguo Temple. Pretending to help him, I said the monks in the capital could use their connections to pay a fine and get a new certificate. He had a strong accent, so I deliberately got his Dharma name and age wrong, and asked another monk from the temple to handle the matter. When he saw the wrong name, he was anxious but helpless. I left the original certificate I stole in a corner of the temple, and it was later found… I advised him to keep using his original one, and I secretly destroyed the new one, acting as if nothing happened. He believed me.”
The old monk’s voice was bitter, audible only to Mo Li.
Mo Li remained silent.
Whether the story was true or false was hard to verify now, but the old monk seemed to have led a blameless life as abbot, or else Gong Jun would have used other reasons to arrest and interrogate him.
It’s quite common for people to be frightened, threatened, or tempted.
Once the threat is gone, looking at those close to them, any greedy thoughts naturally dissipate.
“Do you think Liuhe Temple can be preserved if they use Emperor Li’s tomb for their schemes?” Mo Li asked softly.
The novice monk didn’t hear Mo Li’s question clearly, and seeing the old monk’s pained face, he became more anxious and rushed over.
“Master!”
The novice monk flung himself onto the bed, but Mo Li didn’t stop him.
“He’s a doctor,” the old monk quickly explained.
“A doctor?” the novice monk was bewildered, unsure how a doctor had suddenly appeared.
Mo Li changed his tone, speaking unhurriedly, “You’re suppressing your worries, which can turn into illness over time. To completely heal, you must clear your mind. It can’t be delayed; make a decision soon, Abbot!”
“Master, what illness do you have?” the novice monk asked in shock.
The old monk hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
“It’s due to old age and exposure to cold on the mountain, not suitable for recuperation,” Mo Li fabricated, “I see the abbot also has another ailment, which could be serious or minor, and it seems you have symptoms too.”
“What?”
Mo Li quickly grabbed the novice monk’s wrist, and before he could react, said, “It’s mild, probably from unclean drinking water.”
“Really? Our temple’s well got dusty when we were repairing the roof beams. We didn’t use it for a while but because fetching water was too troublesome, the monks insisted on reopening it.” The novice monk believed him.
The old monk was startled, looking at Mo Li.
He knew of the mercury in Emperor Li’s tomb and had smelled something strange from the thief’s tunnel, thinking it was mercury. Frightened, he had filled the well, but when the monks insisted on reopening it and used the water without issue, he thought the matter had passed.
Of course it’s not true, the water is already harmless.
Mo Li advised. “You could temporarily reside in another temple and return after a year or so.”
Such a suggestion, if overheard, would be criticized for urging monks to abandon their temple and Buddha.
The novice monk, however, hesitated, thinking his master was truly unwell.
Mo Li packed away his silver needles and moxa into his bag, stood up, and addressed the other monks outside, “In a while, martial artists and Jinyiwei might come here again. You’ll have plenty of trouble. Perhaps it’s better to temporarily stay elsewhere.”
Then he left.
The monks of Liuhe Temple involuntarily cleared a path for him.
The onlooking martial artists were displeased, with one stepping forward to block Mo Li.
“Which path do you follow? What’s happening in this temple? Why blame us martial artists? And what about the roof, those Jinyiwei… Hey, don’t go!”
The man who tried to stop Mo Li suddenly realized that Mo Li had somehow moved to the other side. He tried to follow, but in trying to stop Mo Li, he ended up falling over, realizing too late that Mo Li was a master.
“Big brother, look—”
The day’s events were too unusual. The bearded man frowned and declared, “Let’s leave Liuhe Temple and ask other martial artists about this Meng Qi. How did he scare off the Jinyiwei?”
After leaving Liuhe Temple, Mo Li didn’t go far. Relying on his superb lightness skills, he sneaked back to the forest behind the pagoda, where Meng Qi was waiting for him.
“Deputy Commander Gong and I are truly in sync. If the spies from Cangfeng temple also heard your name…”
“Once Golden Phoenix Young Master and others cross the river and hear these martial artists’ words, they’ll know Meng Qi indeed exists.”
Thinking how Gong Jun and the Jinyiwei unwittingly promoted the “legendary State Teacher Meng,” Mo Li shook his head.
The suddenly emerged “Meng Qi” had become a variable in the conspiracy of Emperor Li’s tomb.
The Taoists, due to their experiences with their sects and elders, feared Meng Qi, as evident from Daoist Sang. Now that the waters were thoroughly muddied, could Ancestor Qingwu remain hidden?
“I’ll find some monkey wine from the mountains, and we can enjoy the spring scenery and drink here, in a warm atmosphere,” Meng Qi said, finding a flat stone for Mo Li, muttering, “Perhaps Gong Jun won’t get far and will have to return.”
Mo Li was puzzled, “Why do you say that?”
At that moment, on the mountain path of Dragon Claw Peak, the retreating Jinyiwei were attacked by a group of masked men.
They grew increasingly panicked as the attackers’ martial arts skills were high, and soon several Jinyiwei were injured.
Gong Jun, hand on his sword, broke out in a cold sweat.
He had an ominous feeling, as if targeted by a venomous snake.
Hidden among them was a master he couldn’t defeat!
—He could run, but what about his subordinates?
Gong Jun immediately thought of Ancestor Qingwu, his expression changing drastically, he hissed, “Retreat! Return to Liuhe Temple!”
It’s all bad luck
As Gong Jun ran, he reached for the signal tube in his pocket, only to find it missing.
His clothes, torn into rags, could no longer hold anything, likely left in the room they had just escaped from.
Biting his teeth in frustration, Gong Jun stopped and headed to the temple gate, ordering a Jinyiwei guard, “All retreat, quickly!”
The guards, startled by their suddenly appearing Deputy Commander, hesitated to react immediately.
“Everyone retreat from Dragon Claw Peak!” Gong Jun repeated, glancing behind fearfully, dreading Meng Qi’s pursuit.
He remembered how, three years ago, when Master Meng went on a rampage in the imperial city, Gong Jun had looped around the Northern Defense Command five times, barely escaping with his life after being relentlessly pursued. Even now, he had nightmares about it.
“But Deputy Commander, you just ordered…”
One guard started to object, recalling the strict command to guard every entrance of Liuhe Temple and not let anyone escape. Why the sudden change?
Gong Jun had no time for lengthy explanations. “The commotion just now was caused by the former dynasty’s State Teacher, Meng Qi!”
The guard’s face drained of color, and he immediately shouted, “Quick, retreat!”
The shout alerted the nearby Jinyiwei, and the news quickly spread. Though not as fast as a signal tube, the speed was still commendable. The guards, hearing the name “Meng Qi,” immediately changed their expressions and started running, weapons in hand.
No one wanted to test their luck against Meng Qi.
Loyalty to the emperor mattered, but only when the emperor was around.
Now, without such concerns, escaping took precedence over honor — better to lose face than lose life.
Thus, the martial artists locked in the rear courtyard of Liuhe Temple watched in disbelief as the Jinyiwei shouted about Meng Qi and hurriedly disappeared.
So, who was Meng Qi?
Was there a State Teacher in the Qi Dynasty?
They exchanged bewildered looks before a monk cautiously ventured out to check.
“They’re all gone, the Jinyiwei have really left!” the monk returned excitedly.
The martial artists immediately commanded the monks to untie them.
The monks were reluctant, but what choice did they have? They couldn’t confront these people, and with the Jinyiwei gone, there was no point in keeping them tied.
Fearful of retribution from the martial artists’ comrades, the monks had no choice but to untie them, all the while chanting Buddhist scriptures and dissociating Liuhe Temple from the situation.
“Enough with the chatter, you baldies!” a bearded martial artist snapped irritably, impatiently ripping off his ropes and signaling his brothers to leave Liuhe Temple with him.
“Big brother, the Jinyiwei have left, haven’t they?”
“Left, so what?!” the bearded man scowled, “Didn’t you hear the loud noise just now?”
His sworn brother muttered that he did, which was why he wanted to check out the commotion, at least to know what happened so they wouldn’t be clueless when other martial artists asked.
“Nonsense! With your temper, you’ll end up dead outside someday!” the bearded man exclaimed in frustration.
He was in mid-rant when a young novice monk shouted, “Master is in the front courtyard, the roof has collapsed, we need help!”
Then he and three other monks rushed towards the main hall.
The bearded man and his sworn brothers: “…”
Other martial artists: “…”
The bearded man was right, but was this novice monk deliberately opposing them? How could it be so coincidental?
The non-martial monks were rushing to help, making them look cowardly.
“Shall we just take a quick look from afar?” the bearded man’s sworn brother asked hopefully.
The bearded man remained silent, his face dark.
The group cautiously headed towards the front courtyard, weapons in hand.
The novice monk hurried to the main hall, grabbing a broom before rushing into the room, now missing its doors, windows, and roof.
“Let go of my master!”
Mo Li turned his head to see the old monk lying pale-faced on the bed.
They were the only two in the room, as Meng Qi had already left.
The old monk had been “forced” by Mo Li to lie back down, thinking he was doomed. Seeing his young disciple charging in fearlessly, he broke out in cold sweat, desperately gesturing and mouthing for silence, but the novice monk completely misunderstood his intent.
“Who are you?” the novice monk confronted Mo Li, initially taken aback and then seemingly recalling something. He raised his broom defiantly, saying, “Don’t you dare! Our temple has many people! And officials too! They just killed a notorious bandit!”
Recalling the corpse in the back courtyard, the novice monk turned pale and almost vomited.
“Om Amitabha Buddha, Tathagata Buddha, Medicine Buddha…”
Mo Li watched the novice monk frantically chanting, then turned to the old monk, “Do you really plan to take those people’s gold and live as a wealthy man in the south?”
The old monk’s expression was complex as he looked at the novice monk.
Two other monks peeked around the courtyard, but only this naïve disciple had rushed in.
“How did you get your monk’s certificate?”
“…I’ve long thought of escaping, so I stole a certificate from a foreign monk at Baoguo Temple. Pretending to help him, I said the monks in the capital could use their connections to pay a fine and get a new certificate. He had a strong accent, so I deliberately got his Dharma name and age wrong, and asked another monk from the temple to handle the matter. When he saw the wrong name, he was anxious but helpless. I left the original certificate I stole in a corner of the temple, and it was later found… I advised him to keep using his original one, and I secretly destroyed the new one, acting as if nothing happened. He believed me.”
The old monk’s voice was bitter, audible only to Mo Li.
Mo Li remained silent.
Whether the story was true or false was hard to verify now, but the old monk seemed to have led a blameless life as abbot, or else Gong Jun would have used other reasons to arrest and interrogate him.
It’s quite common for people to be frightened, threatened, or tempted.
Once the threat is gone, looking at those close to them, any greedy thoughts naturally dissipate.
“Do you think Liuhe Temple can be preserved if they use Emperor Li’s tomb for their schemes?” Mo Li asked softly.
The novice monk didn’t hear Mo Li’s question clearly, and seeing the old monk’s pained face, he became more anxious and rushed over.
“Master!”
The novice monk flung himself onto the bed, but Mo Li didn’t stop him.
“He’s a doctor,” the old monk quickly explained.
“A doctor?” the novice monk was bewildered, unsure how a doctor had suddenly appeared.
Mo Li changed his tone, speaking unhurriedly, “You’re suppressing your worries, which can turn into illness over time. To completely heal, you must clear your mind. It can’t be delayed; make a decision soon, Abbot!”
“Master, what illness do you have?” the novice monk asked in shock.
The old monk hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
“It’s due to old age and exposure to cold on the mountain, not suitable for recuperation,” Mo Li fabricated, “I see the abbot also has another ailment, which could be serious or minor, and it seems you have symptoms too.”
“What?”
Mo Li quickly grabbed the novice monk’s wrist, and before he could react, said, “It’s mild, probably from unclean drinking water.”
“Really? Our temple’s well got dusty when we were repairing the roof beams. We didn’t use it for a while but because fetching water was too troublesome, the monks insisted on reopening it.” The novice monk believed him.
The old monk was startled, looking at Mo Li.
He knew of the mercury in Emperor Li’s tomb and had smelled something strange from the thief’s tunnel, thinking it was mercury. Frightened, he had filled the well, but when the monks insisted on reopening it and used the water without issue, he thought the matter had passed.
Of course it’s not true, the water is already harmless.
Mo Li advised. “You could temporarily reside in another temple and return after a year or so.”
Such a suggestion, if overheard, would be criticized for urging monks to abandon their temple and Buddha.
The novice monk, however, hesitated, thinking his master was truly unwell.
Mo Li packed away his silver needles and moxa into his bag, stood up, and addressed the other monks outside, “In a while, martial artists and Jinyiwei might come here again. You’ll have plenty of trouble. Perhaps it’s better to temporarily stay elsewhere.”
Then he left.
The monks of Liuhe Temple involuntarily cleared a path for him.
The onlooking martial artists were displeased, with one stepping forward to block Mo Li.
“Which path do you follow? What’s happening in this temple? Why blame us martial artists? And what about the roof, those Jinyiwei… Hey, don’t go!”
The man who tried to stop Mo Li suddenly realized that Mo Li had somehow moved to the other side. He tried to follow, but in trying to stop Mo Li, he ended up falling over, realizing too late that Mo Li was a master.
“Big brother, look—”
The day’s events were too unusual. The bearded man frowned and declared, “Let’s leave Liuhe Temple and ask other martial artists about this Meng Qi. How did he scare off the Jinyiwei?”
After leaving Liuhe Temple, Mo Li didn’t go far. Relying on his superb lightness skills, he sneaked back to the forest behind the pagoda, where Meng Qi was waiting for him.
“Deputy Commander Gong and I are truly in sync. If the spies from Cangfeng temple also heard your name…”
“Once Golden Phoenix Young Master and others cross the river and hear these martial artists’ words, they’ll know Meng Qi indeed exists.”
Thinking how Gong Jun and the Jinyiwei unwittingly promoted the “legendary State Teacher Meng,” Mo Li shook his head.
The suddenly emerged “Meng Qi” had become a variable in the conspiracy of Emperor Li’s tomb.
The Taoists, due to their experiences with their sects and elders, feared Meng Qi, as evident from Daoist Sang. Now that the waters were thoroughly muddied, could Ancestor Qingwu remain hidden?
“I’ll find some monkey wine from the mountains, and we can enjoy the spring scenery and drink here, in a warm atmosphere,” Meng Qi said, finding a flat stone for Mo Li, muttering, “Perhaps Gong Jun won’t get far and will have to return.”
Mo Li was puzzled, “Why do you say that?”
At that moment, on the mountain path of Dragon Claw Peak, the retreating Jinyiwei were attacked by a group of masked men.
They grew increasingly panicked as the attackers’ martial arts skills were high, and soon several Jinyiwei were injured.
Gong Jun, hand on his sword, broke out in a cold sweat.
He had an ominous feeling, as if targeted by a venomous snake.
Hidden among them was a master he couldn’t defeat!
—He could run, but what about his subordinates?
Gong Jun immediately thought of Ancestor Qingwu, his expression changing drastically, he hissed, “Retreat! Return to Liuhe Temple!”
