Gong Jun: Weak and powerless, heartbroken
Mo Li opened his eyes to find that his internal energy was still not flowing smoothly.
But he can already move a little.
“Brother Meng, stay calm.”
Mo Li urgently placed his hand on Meng Qi’s shoulder, accidentally touching the back of his neck in the process.
Meng Qi shuddered slightly and helplessly said, “Doctor, I have regained my memory; I won’t go mad again.”
Mo Li did not believe his words.
“Whether your illness is cured or not, it’s not up to you to say.”
Mo Li looked at the eerie red mist not far away, pupils constricting, and asked in a low voice, “What is this?”
“It’s poison gas from the tomb.”
Meng Qi’s irritation comes not only from the collapsing ground and the influx of martial artists but also from the red mist emerging from the tomb. With strong winds and heavy rain, the poison gas spread quickly, seeping into the soil.
The mist spread further, surpassing the area of the collapsed hole, and touching the nearby vegetation.
Trees won’t die immediately, nor can the problem be immediately visible. This is not a storybook; there’s no poison so powerful in the real world.
What dies are the insects and vermin in the soil and vegetation.
“Wait!” Mo Li shouted at the martial artists rushing over.
They ignored him, casually covering their noses and mouths with a soaked piece of cloth before approaching the hole.
The red mist drifted higher and faded in color until it disappeared.
“…How is it?”
“In about ten days, there should be no impact,” Meng Qi said with a stern face.
The spiritual energy on Shangyun Mountain is abundant, capable of neutralizing the poison that seeped into the soil with the rainwater. However, even with ample spiritual energy, the dragon veins won’t be pleased. Just when the situation seemed under control, trouble flared up again.
Mo Li moved slightly, signaling Meng Qi to put him down.
Meng Qi refused, “No, it’s dangerous. The person who lit the fuse hasn’t been found yet.”
“Wasn’t he blown up?” Mo Li looked at the huge crater.
Mo Li, who came from a remote area of Zhushan County, hasn’t seen much of explosives, only knowing that the imperial court has cannons and the martial world has the Thunderbolt Hall. During festivals or celebrations, poor families just beat drums and burn bamboo, with no use for explosives.
He hadn’t expected such things to have such great power when gathered together.
“The problem lies here…”
Meng Qi mutters to himself.
Both Qingwu Ancestor and his chief disciple were trapped, and not many of the black-clothed men from Xianyue Valley had escaped. With no one to give orders, why was the hidden gunpowder outside Liuhe Temple ignited?
“Master—”
Mo Li turned at the sound, only to see a young monk sobbing beside the ruins.
The abbot of Liuhe Temple is already on his last breath, unable to speak.
The Jinyiwei, following Gong Jun, have retreated far away. The surviving monks also fled, leaving only a few corpses scattered about.
Meng Qi protected Mo Li to the ruins of the main hall, quickly recognizing this as the place where he sensed survivors through spiritual energy. The falling beams were blocked by a large Buddha statue, creating a gap that was not buried, where the lucky survivors were located.
It’s just that the old monk was unlucky, suffering abdominal injuries and nearing death.
Mo Li cannot use his internal energy and can only press on the acupoints to briefly awaken the old monk.
“Master!” The young monk’s face is full of tears, mixing with the rain.
“…You have the root of wisdom, do not waste yourself.” The abbot wanted to instruct his young disciple on many things, such as staying away from trouble, not getting involved with treasures and Liuhe Temple again, finding a new temple to settle in, learning to please new senior brothers and masters by reading their faces, being diligent in chanting and working, and not being lazy anymore.
However, the words he wanted to say became muddled at his lips, unable to be spoken.
“You are a physician, please save my master.” The young monk clung to Mo Li’s arm, pleading.
The abdominal wound, pierced by a broken piece of wood, has caused necrosis of the organs, beyond saving.
Mo Li withdrew his hand from taking the pulse, not even attempting to remove the piece of wood, because any movement would hasten the old monk’s death, possibly causing his intestines to spill out.
The young monk saw the answer in Mo Li’s actions and cried even harder.
“Foolish child.” The abbot, struggling, touched the young monk’s head and said intermittently, “Birth, old age… sickness, death, all are karma, and so it is for your teacher.”
The young monk gripped the abbot’s kasaya tightly.
Behind them, the martial artists discovering the breached imperial tomb shouted in surprise.
How much treasure could be in the Chen Emperor’s tomb?
The abbot of Liuhe Temple, a descendant of the Chen dynasty, survived the takeover of the Chu dynasty and the establishment of the Qi dynasty, but in his old age, he could not escape the disaster of his ancestor’s tomb.
“Perhaps this is the retribution for the sins of the Chen dynasty.”
The abbot explained the situation to the young monk in broken sentences, not really wanting his disciple to know everything, but rather lamenting his own fate. His voice got lower and lower until he finally exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes.
Mo Li saw the young monk standing still, silent, and motionless, thinking he was shocked.
Just as he tried to call out, the young monk lifted his head: “Doctor, do you have a fire starter?”
Buddhism spoke of entering Nirvana, where the bones turn into relics.
The abbot’s body cannot be left as is; a coffin is not necessary, and cremation will suffice.
“It’s still raining.” Mo Li says softly.
The young monk seemed to realize this for the first time, mechanically pulling a piece of yellow curtain that originally hung in front of the Buddha statue to cover the abbot’s body.
At this moment, the martial artists who first reached the vicinity of the hole started fighting.
They made strange noises, slashing madly as if seeing something, even when there was no one in front of them.
Those who climbed down the hole are in even worse condition, stumbling and bumping into the walls of the pit, even losing their grip on the ropes and falling into the hole.
Laughter, screams, and aggressive shouts mixed with the wind and rain, filled the ears.
“Inspector, is this really Emperor Li’s tomb?”
A member of the Jinyiwei shivered, almost thinking it was haunted.
Gong Jun slowly nodded, deciding there was no point in hiding it from his subordinates anymore, straightforwardly saying, “Master Meng said it is, and the group of black-clothed people who attacked us came for the tomb’s treasure.”
The Jinyiwei, upon hearing this, show varied expressions.
How could they not be moved by the tomb’s treasure? The street tales have hyped up this mysterious imperial tomb as if it contained the entire treasury of the Chen dynasty. Exquisite treasures, miraculous medicines, unparalleled paintings, and calligraphy… essentially, everything but living beauties.
Thinking of those descriptions, everyone’s breathing becomes heavier.
Then, the cold rain sobered them up.
“How could the imperial tomb be here?”
“Inspector, let’s retreat. This… looks like it’s haunted!”
The martial artists are cutting each other down as if possessed, with blood and flesh flying everywhere.
Gong Jun thought of the red mist that emerged from the tomb and suspected that they had all been poisoned and were seeing hallucinations.
“We can’t leave; the commotion here is too big,” Gong Jun signaled his subordinates to watch the mountain path nearby.
The rain had lessened a bit, and the silhouettes of people were faintly visible.
“Smart people are hiding in the back… waiting for someone to scout the way for them. Now, if we leave, we will definitely be stopped, and perhaps some might even think we’ve gained some advantage,” Gong Jun said in a low voice.
He had always been confident in his martial arts skills and didn’t take the people of the martial arts world seriously. However, today he had suffered three major setbacks in a row and no longer dared to be sure he could overcome these martial artists who had come upon hearing the news.
What if there were masters among them?
Being exposed as the Bamboo Sword Client was a minor issue, but severe injury or death was a major one.
Moreover, he was also leading his subordinates, some of whom were more or less injured, with the most severely injured having lost an arm. How could a group of wounded soldiers possibly fight hard against others?
“If I’m not mistaken, there might be more to the treasure of Emperor Li’s tomb,” Gong Jun bit his teeth and said solemnly, “It’s not something people from the martial arts world could do to dare to strike against the imperial officials and use so much gunpowder!”
“Oh, let’s hear it.”
Suddenly a voice emerged behind him, startling Gong Jun into jumping back.
Meng Qi had appeared beside them at some unknown time, along with Mo Li and that expressionless young monk.
“Imperial Teacher Meng, I am of little courage,” Gong Jun said through gritted teeth.
“If you’re scared, then practice more.”
Meng Qi said leisurely, smiling at the sight of the Jinyiwei guards retreating.
Mo Li: “…”
He thought Meng Qi was taking it for granted now, bullying Vice Commander Gong. Perhaps when Gong Jun takes his pet cat for a walk tomorrow, he could also suggest Meng Qi practice more to overcome his fear of cats.
Gong Jun did not know this secret, so naturally, he lacked that courage and could only glare at Meng Qi.
“Although Ancestor Qingwu is considered the number one expert in the world with unparalleled martial arts skills and meticulous planning, his base is in Yongzhou. Isn’t he afraid that if his deeds are exposed, the court will raid his Cangfeng Temple?”
Just a few rounds of cannon fire would be enough to take down any sect.
People can run, but can houses grow legs and fly away?
“He has been spreading rumors about Emperor Li’s tomb in the martial arts world without any hesitation, directly using his own name. Such boldness, who has given him the confidence?”
Gong Jun deliberately raised his voice, intending for those hidden martial artists to hear his words.
As for those whose martial arts skills were not high enough to hear, it didn’t matter. Minor characters had no impact anyway.
Meng Qi saw through Gong Jun’s intentions.
“Exactly, and who else from Hengchang Temple’s Tianshan Sect. The masters and elders of those major sects have all noticed something was amiss and turned back midway, not appearing here.” After Meng Qi finished speaking, he heard a series of low exclamations and discussions from afar and near. The smile at the corner of his lips widened, and then he glanced at Gong Jun.
See, this is how you sway people’s hearts.
The Vice Commander Gong hesitated to speak.
At this moment, Mo Li added, “We came from Yongzhou, having heard that Ancestor Qingwu has come with his trusted followers.”
Of course, digging for treasure requires trusted followers, nothing surprising there. But think about it differently, perhaps Ancestor Qingwu is ready to abandon Cangfeng Temple. People in the martial arts world do not believe Ancestor Qingwu would do such a thing. How important the foundation of a sect is, those in the martial arts world who worry about every penny understand best.
The Taoist temples are inhabited by monks who do not need to pay land taxes.
Even in the strict Chu dynasty, the land taxes under the names of temples and Taoist temples are less.
Many people would rather offer their land to the temples, becoming tenant farmers instead, paying less grain than what is levied by the court. A deeply rooted Taoist temple like Cangfeng, which is also on good terms with the powerful, definitely has no small amount of land under its name.
What Ancestor Qingwu left behind is not just a temple, but money.
No matter how high one’s martial arts skills are, how can one make disciples and followers willingly follow them without money?
The treasure of the Emperor’s Tomb could indeed compensate for this loss.
If Ancestor Qingwu is not here for the treasure, what is he after?
“Rebellion,” Gong Jun said, pausing after each word.
His face was ashen, realizing that the person who ignited the gunpowder might not be under Ancestor Qingwu’s command.
It could be the Jinyiwei, the eunuchs, or even someone sent by a colleague, who, wanting to rebel, colluded with Ancestor Qingwu.
The Jinyiwei he led suffered heavy casualties, with some even buried under the ruins, not knowing if anyone disappeared along the way.
Is the person who lit the fire dead or hiding among his own ranks?
The more Gong Jun thought about it, the angrier he became.
“Then, Vice Commander Gong, who do you think is the most likely to rebel in the capital?”
“…”
Gong Jun silently looked at Meng Qi, in his heart, the person wanting to assassinate the emperor was Imperial Teacher Meng.
As for rebellion, it’s really hard to say. Lu Zhang made it clear to both the inside and outside of the court that there was no need to conquer the world; killing the emperor could also make one an emperor. What about the rightful succession? If you don’t agree, just kill them, are there still worries about not having people willing to be officials? It might not attract talented individuals, nor the virtuous and morally upright, but Lu Zhang doesn’t care. He’s not seizing the throne to be a wise ruler, nor does he have the ambition to govern the world.
“Vice Commander Gong, hesitating like this, could it be that there are too many people who want to rebel?” Mo Li asked with a peculiar expression.
Gong Jun was helpless, how could he answer such a question? Unless he no longer wished to hold office.
Out of necessity, he whispered in a secret transmission: “Indeed, but none truly have the power to rebel.”
The emperor is not a fool; he would not give any of his subjects such an opportunity.
“What about the princes?” Meng Qi asked bluntly.
Gong Jun’s expression was indescribable.
“It’s complicated,” said the Vice Commander, “The Crown Prince has the most power, beyond that, anyone could be possible.”
Gong Jun: Weak and powerless, heartbroken
Mo Li opened his eyes to find that his internal energy was still not flowing smoothly.
But he can already move a little.
“Brother Meng, stay calm.”
Mo Li urgently placed his hand on Meng Qi’s shoulder, accidentally touching the back of his neck in the process.
Meng Qi shuddered slightly and helplessly said, “Doctor, I have regained my memory; I won’t go mad again.”
Mo Li did not believe his words.
“Whether your illness is cured or not, it’s not up to you to say.”
Mo Li looked at the eerie red mist not far away, pupils constricting, and asked in a low voice, “What is this?”
“It’s poison gas from the tomb.”
Meng Qi’s irritation comes not only from the collapsing ground and the influx of martial artists but also from the red mist emerging from the tomb. With strong winds and heavy rain, the poison gas spread quickly, seeping into the soil.
The mist spread further, surpassing the area of the collapsed hole, and touching the nearby vegetation.
Trees won’t die immediately, nor can the problem be immediately visible. This is not a storybook; there’s no poison so powerful in the real world.
What dies are the insects and vermin in the soil and vegetation.
“Wait!” Mo Li shouted at the martial artists rushing over.
They ignored him, casually covering their noses and mouths with a soaked piece of cloth before approaching the hole.
The red mist drifted higher and faded in color until it disappeared.
“…How is it?”
“In about ten days, there should be no impact,” Meng Qi said with a stern face.
The spiritual energy on Shangyun Mountain is abundant, capable of neutralizing the poison that seeped into the soil with the rainwater. However, even with ample spiritual energy, the dragon veins won’t be pleased. Just when the situation seemed under control, trouble flared up again.
Mo Li moved slightly, signaling Meng Qi to put him down.
Meng Qi refused, “No, it’s dangerous. The person who lit the fuse hasn’t been found yet.”
“Wasn’t he blown up?” Mo Li looked at the huge crater.
Mo Li, who came from a remote area of Zhushan County, hasn’t seen much of explosives, only knowing that the imperial court has cannons and the martial world has the Thunderbolt Hall. During festivals or celebrations, poor families just beat drums and burn bamboo, with no use for explosives.
He hadn’t expected such things to have such great power when gathered together.
“The problem lies here…”
Meng Qi mutters to himself.
Both Qingwu Ancestor and his chief disciple were trapped, and not many of the black-clothed men from Xianyue Valley had escaped. With no one to give orders, why was the hidden gunpowder outside Liuhe Temple ignited?
“Master—”
Mo Li turned at the sound, only to see a young monk sobbing beside the ruins.
The abbot of Liuhe Temple is already on his last breath, unable to speak.
The Jinyiwei, following Gong Jun, have retreated far away. The surviving monks also fled, leaving only a few corpses scattered about.
Meng Qi protected Mo Li to the ruins of the main hall, quickly recognizing this as the place where he sensed survivors through spiritual energy. The falling beams were blocked by a large Buddha statue, creating a gap that was not buried, where the lucky survivors were located.
It’s just that the old monk was unlucky, suffering abdominal injuries and nearing death.
Mo Li cannot use his internal energy and can only press on the acupoints to briefly awaken the old monk.
“Master!” The young monk’s face is full of tears, mixing with the rain.
“…You have the root of wisdom, do not waste yourself.” The abbot wanted to instruct his young disciple on many things, such as staying away from trouble, not getting involved with treasures and Liuhe Temple again, finding a new temple to settle in, learning to please new senior brothers and masters by reading their faces, being diligent in chanting and working, and not being lazy anymore.
However, the words he wanted to say became muddled at his lips, unable to be spoken.
“You are a physician, please save my master.” The young monk clung to Mo Li’s arm, pleading.
The abdominal wound, pierced by a broken piece of wood, has caused necrosis of the organs, beyond saving.
Mo Li withdrew his hand from taking the pulse, not even attempting to remove the piece of wood, because any movement would hasten the old monk’s death, possibly causing his intestines to spill out.
The young monk saw the answer in Mo Li’s actions and cried even harder.
“Foolish child.” The abbot, struggling, touched the young monk’s head and said intermittently, “Birth, old age… sickness, death, all are karma, and so it is for your teacher.”
The young monk gripped the abbot’s kasaya tightly.
Behind them, the martial artists discovering the breached imperial tomb shouted in surprise.
How much treasure could be in the Chen Emperor’s tomb?
The abbot of Liuhe Temple, a descendant of the Chen dynasty, survived the takeover of the Chu dynasty and the establishment of the Qi dynasty, but in his old age, he could not escape the disaster of his ancestor’s tomb.
“Perhaps this is the retribution for the sins of the Chen dynasty.”
The abbot explained the situation to the young monk in broken sentences, not really wanting his disciple to know everything, but rather lamenting his own fate. His voice got lower and lower until he finally exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes.
Mo Li saw the young monk standing still, silent, and motionless, thinking he was shocked.
Just as he tried to call out, the young monk lifted his head: “Doctor, do you have a fire starter?”
Buddhism spoke of entering Nirvana, where the bones turn into relics.
The abbot’s body cannot be left as is; a coffin is not necessary, and cremation will suffice.
“It’s still raining.” Mo Li says softly.
The young monk seemed to realize this for the first time, mechanically pulling a piece of yellow curtain that originally hung in front of the Buddha statue to cover the abbot’s body.
At this moment, the martial artists who first reached the vicinity of the hole started fighting.
They made strange noises, slashing madly as if seeing something, even when there was no one in front of them.
Those who climbed down the hole are in even worse condition, stumbling and bumping into the walls of the pit, even losing their grip on the ropes and falling into the hole.
Laughter, screams, and aggressive shouts mixed with the wind and rain, filled the ears.
“Inspector, is this really Emperor Li’s tomb?”
A member of the Jinyiwei shivered, almost thinking it was haunted.
Gong Jun slowly nodded, deciding there was no point in hiding it from his subordinates anymore, straightforwardly saying, “Master Meng said it is, and the group of black-clothed people who attacked us came for the tomb’s treasure.”
The Jinyiwei, upon hearing this, show varied expressions.
How could they not be moved by the tomb’s treasure? The street tales have hyped up this mysterious imperial tomb as if it contained the entire treasury of the Chen dynasty. Exquisite treasures, miraculous medicines, unparalleled paintings, and calligraphy… essentially, everything but living beauties.
Thinking of those descriptions, everyone’s breathing becomes heavier.
Then, the cold rain sobered them up.
“How could the imperial tomb be here?”
“Inspector, let’s retreat. This… looks like it’s haunted!”
The martial artists are cutting each other down as if possessed, with blood and flesh flying everywhere.
Gong Jun thought of the red mist that emerged from the tomb and suspected that they had all been poisoned and were seeing hallucinations.
“We can’t leave; the commotion here is too big,” Gong Jun signaled his subordinates to watch the mountain path nearby.
The rain had lessened a bit, and the silhouettes of people were faintly visible.
“Smart people are hiding in the back… waiting for someone to scout the way for them. Now, if we leave, we will definitely be stopped, and perhaps some might even think we’ve gained some advantage,” Gong Jun said in a low voice.
He had always been confident in his martial arts skills and didn’t take the people of the martial arts world seriously. However, today he had suffered three major setbacks in a row and no longer dared to be sure he could overcome these martial artists who had come upon hearing the news.
What if there were masters among them?
Being exposed as the Bamboo Sword Client was a minor issue, but severe injury or death was a major one.
Moreover, he was also leading his subordinates, some of whom were more or less injured, with the most severely injured having lost an arm. How could a group of wounded soldiers possibly fight hard against others?
“If I’m not mistaken, there might be more to the treasure of Emperor Li’s tomb,” Gong Jun bit his teeth and said solemnly, “It’s not something people from the martial arts world could do to dare to strike against the imperial officials and use so much gunpowder!”
“Oh, let’s hear it.”
Suddenly a voice emerged behind him, startling Gong Jun into jumping back.
Meng Qi had appeared beside them at some unknown time, along with Mo Li and that expressionless young monk.
“Imperial Teacher Meng, I am of little courage,” Gong Jun said through gritted teeth.
“If you’re scared, then practice more.”
Meng Qi said leisurely, smiling at the sight of the Jinyiwei guards retreating.
Mo Li: “…”
He thought Meng Qi was taking it for granted now, bullying Vice Commander Gong. Perhaps when Gong Jun takes his pet cat for a walk tomorrow, he could also suggest Meng Qi practice more to overcome his fear of cats.
Gong Jun did not know this secret, so naturally, he lacked that courage and could only glare at Meng Qi.
“Although Ancestor Qingwu is considered the number one expert in the world with unparalleled martial arts skills and meticulous planning, his base is in Yongzhou. Isn’t he afraid that if his deeds are exposed, the court will raid his Cangfeng Temple?”
Just a few rounds of cannon fire would be enough to take down any sect.
People can run, but can houses grow legs and fly away?
“He has been spreading rumors about Emperor Li’s tomb in the martial arts world without any hesitation, directly using his own name. Such boldness, who has given him the confidence?”
Gong Jun deliberately raised his voice, intending for those hidden martial artists to hear his words.
As for those whose martial arts skills were not high enough to hear, it didn’t matter. Minor characters had no impact anyway.
Meng Qi saw through Gong Jun’s intentions.
“Exactly, and who else from Hengchang Temple’s Tianshan Sect. The masters and elders of those major sects have all noticed something was amiss and turned back midway, not appearing here.” After Meng Qi finished speaking, he heard a series of low exclamations and discussions from afar and near. The smile at the corner of his lips widened, and then he glanced at Gong Jun.
See, this is how you sway people’s hearts.
The Vice Commander Gong hesitated to speak.
At this moment, Mo Li added, “We came from Yongzhou, having heard that Ancestor Qingwu has come with his trusted followers.”
Of course, digging for treasure requires trusted followers, nothing surprising there. But think about it differently, perhaps Ancestor Qingwu is ready to abandon Cangfeng Temple. People in the martial arts world do not believe Ancestor Qingwu would do such a thing. How important the foundation of a sect is, those in the martial arts world who worry about every penny understand best.
The Taoist temples are inhabited by monks who do not need to pay land taxes.
Even in the strict Chu dynasty, the land taxes under the names of temples and Taoist temples are less.
Many people would rather offer their land to the temples, becoming tenant farmers instead, paying less grain than what is levied by the court. A deeply rooted Taoist temple like Cangfeng, which is also on good terms with the powerful, definitely has no small amount of land under its name.
What Ancestor Qingwu left behind is not just a temple, but money.
No matter how high one’s martial arts skills are, how can one make disciples and followers willingly follow them without money?
The treasure of the Emperor’s Tomb could indeed compensate for this loss.
If Ancestor Qingwu is not here for the treasure, what is he after?
“Rebellion,” Gong Jun said, pausing after each word.
His face was ashen, realizing that the person who ignited the gunpowder might not be under Ancestor Qingwu’s command.
It could be the Jinyiwei, the eunuchs, or even someone sent by a colleague, who, wanting to rebel, colluded with Ancestor Qingwu.
The Jinyiwei he led suffered heavy casualties, with some even buried under the ruins, not knowing if anyone disappeared along the way.
Is the person who lit the fire dead or hiding among his own ranks?
The more Gong Jun thought about it, the angrier he became.
“Then, Vice Commander Gong, who do you think is the most likely to rebel in the capital?”
“…”
Gong Jun silently looked at Meng Qi, in his heart, the person wanting to assassinate the emperor was Imperial Teacher Meng.
As for rebellion, it’s really hard to say. Lu Zhang made it clear to both the inside and outside of the court that there was no need to conquer the world; killing the emperor could also make one an emperor. What about the rightful succession? If you don’t agree, just kill them, are there still worries about not having people willing to be officials? It might not attract talented individuals, nor the virtuous and morally upright, but Lu Zhang doesn’t care. He’s not seizing the throne to be a wise ruler, nor does he have the ambition to govern the world.
“Vice Commander Gong, hesitating like this, could it be that there are too many people who want to rebel?” Mo Li asked with a peculiar expression.
Gong Jun was helpless, how could he answer such a question? Unless he no longer wished to hold office.
Out of necessity, he whispered in a secret transmission: “Indeed, but none truly have the power to rebel.”
The emperor is not a fool; he would not give any of his subjects such an opportunity.
“What about the princes?” Meng Qi asked bluntly.
Gong Jun’s expression was indescribable.
“It’s complicated,” said the Vice Commander, “The Crown Prince has the most power, beyond that, anyone could be possible.”
