Chapter 297: Asking the World, What is Love?
Night fog and dew filled the sky, autumn wind whistled through the poplar trees, their leaves rustling like the sound of a pipe.
“Qigong.”
Zhou Yan landed in the abandoned temple, tossed Elder Peng to the ground, and leaped onto the rooftop.
Fish-scale blue tiles shimmered like frost under the moon, a faint silver-grey falling on Hong Qigong, who was drinking, with Li Mochou, holding a sword, seated beside him.
“Kid, did you find anything out?”
“I did. The Dog Beating Stick indeed fell into the hands of the Manichaean Cult. Elder Peng, upon hearing the news, led disciples from the Yuezhou branch to retrieve it. Elder Peng instigated the conflict between the Beggars’ Sect and the Manichaean Cult. Yu Huacheng’s purpose in seeking Elder Peng was indeed as he stated: the White Lotus Sect supports him becoming the Cult Leader, and the Beggars’ Sect and White Lotus Sect will cooperate to deal with the Manichaean Cult. The Clean Clothes Faction disciples are mostly heroes who came by reputation. Elder Peng arranged for Zhuang Shiyi to be a Four-Bag Disciple, and no one suspected him. As for selecting the Gang Leader, Elder Peng had already discussed this with Elder Liang and Elder Jian, utilizing the conflict between the Clean Clothes Faction and the Dirty Clothes Faction. However, the two elders are unaware of Zhuang Shiyi’s identity.”
Since Hong Qigong wanted to find Zhang Sanqiang, and Yu Huacheng was involved in the Beggars’ Sect Conference, supporting Elder Peng for the position of Gang Leader, Zhou Yan felt it necessary to briefly explain the grudges between the Manichaean Cult and the White Lotus Sect to Hong Qigong.
“Yu Huacheng, the leader of the White Lotus Sect, is the son of Yu Wupo, the former leader of the Manichaean Cult. The root of the conflict between the two sects is Yu Huacheng’s desire to regain control of the Manichaean Cult and seize the sect-protecting cultivation method, the Qiankun Great Shift.”
“Mm, kid, you’ve done well. You’ve helped this old beggar a great deal.”
“There’s no need for politeness, Qigong.”
“Once this old beggar finishes with my current affairs, I’ll head to Jingzhou.”
“Qigong, there’s one more thing.”
Hong Qigong glared.
Zhou Yan chuckled and said, “It’s worth considering why the Dog Beating Stick appeared among the Manichaean Cult. At that time, Qigong had fallen from Yueyang Tower and was unconscious, and Ouyang Feng, Huo Gong Toutuo, Qiu Qianren, and others were pursuing fiercely. I had no time to spare. Sect Leader Zhang summoned Manichaean Cult disciples for aid, so it’s possible the Dog Beating Stick fell into the hands of Manichaean Cult disciples. However, it’s also possible that someone else manipulated things to instigate conflict between the Beggars’ Sect and the Manichaean Cult, weakening both sides.”
“Who do you think is most likely, kid?”
“Wanyan Kang is the most suspicious.”
“Understood.”
“How will Qigong deal with Elder Peng?”
Hong Qigong was silent for a moment, then said, “Expel him from the Beggars’ Sect.”
“Qigong is wise.”
“Alright, you and that girl Mochou go back. This old beggar will handle sect affairs.”
“Will do.”
“Qigong, Mochou is leaving. If you have free time, come to Zhongnan Mountain. I’ll brew you a few jars of good wine.”
“You’re thoughtful, girl. But don’t deliberately wait for this old beggar.”
“Of course, Mochou understands Qigong.”
“Haha, go on then.”
Zhou Yan and Li Mochou rose, cupped their hands in farewell to Hong Qigong, leaped off the rooftop, and disappeared into the night with a few agile movements. Once they were some distance from Kaifu Temple, Zhou Yan led Li Mochou onto an old tree with a lush canopy.
In the abandoned temple, Hong Qigong was no longer as magnanimous as before. He used thunderous methods, expelling Elder Peng and his two disciples from the Beggars’ Sect. Elder Jian and Elder Liang were stripped of their elder status and made Eight-Bag Disciples. Li Sheng was promoted to Elder, and the beggars cheered.
Elder Peng knelt and thanked Hong Qigong for his mercy, then left the abandoned courtyard.
…
The night wind blew across the various buildings of Zhongdu City. Elder Peng and his two disciples proceeded to the “Yuelai Inn.” The disciples lit lamps and poured tea. Elder Peng, seated in a chair, had a sinister expression on his plump face.
“Master, what do we do now?”
Another disciple said, “The world is vast. With your abilities, Master, where can you not find a place to stay? You were always restricted in the Beggars’ Sect, this forbidden, that not allowed.”
“That’s true, Master. Shall we go to the White Lotus Sect?” said the first disciple.
Elder Peng drank his tea and said, “Having been stripped of my elder status, going to the White Lotus Sect would be like being under someone else’s roof. Do you think Yu Huacheng and Zhuang Shiyi would heavily rely on me?”
“Then what do we do?”
Elder Peng said sinisterly, “There is a better place.”
“Master, where is it?”
Elder Peng chuckled in a low voice, “It’s right before our eyes. Find the Mongolian Little Prince Huo Du. He recruits talent. With my ‘Mind Control Technique’ and intelligence, I won’t lack for being valued.”
“Well said!”
Suddenly, a voice came from the window, startling Elder Peng. The half-open window was burst open by Zhou Yan’s figure, and he landed in the guest room.
The sudden chill that arose was like a vast sea of blood, causing Elder Peng’s hair to stand on end. He brought his palms forward and backward, and with a whoosh, struck out.
A clear sword light flashed, and like a dragonfly skimming water, it touched the Shufu acupoint, a mortal point on Elder Peng’s body. Zhou Yan moved left and right, his longsword thrusting repeatedly. Elder Peng’s two disciples clutched their chests and retreated several steps. With each step they took, blood flowed profusely from their noses, mouths, and ears.
With a “bang,” they both fell to the ground.
Elder Peng, however, had already died with blood flowing from all seven orifices.
Zhou Yan knew Elder Peng’s nature. Whether he joined Huo Du according to the story of the Divine Condor, or found another place to settle, he would still harm Hong Qigong. It was best to cut the weeds and root out the cause, ending it all.
…
Zhou Yan’s figure shot out of the window, a breath of inner energy warming him. Light as a swallow, he circled up to the rooftop.
“Let’s go!” he said to Li Mochou, who was waiting on the rooftop.
Two figures flickered in and out of the darkness, and soon they arrived at Zhou Yan’s courtyard. The familiar scene greeted them: fallen leaves covered the courtyard.
Zhou Yan looked at Li Mochou, who seemed surprised, and smiled, “Every time I go on an escort mission, it takes at least ten days to half a month, or even a hundred days. When I return, it’s like this.”
“I’ll help you clean.”
“You’re a guest, how can I let you do this?”
“It’s nothing. I often did these things when I was in the Ancient Tomb.”
Li Mochou quickly stepped forward, placed her longsword on the weapon rack under the eaves of the west wing, fetched a wooden basin of water from the well, then rolled up her sleeves and took a rag to wipe the tables and chairs indoors. Under the warm yellow lamplight, a trace of the “Chastity Mark” on her snow-white skin was faintly visible.
While she was busy, Zhou Yan held a broom and cleared the fallen leaves in the courtyard.
Occasionally, he would look back at the woman busy in the lamplight, and suddenly felt a sense of home.
The autumn wind swept across Zhongdu City, heading south, crossing the Yellow River, and landing on Shaoshi Mountain.
In the moonlight, a figure like an eagle or falcon swept over the Shaolin Temple’s courtyard wall and landed on the ground. With a few agile movements, the figure entered the forest. The figure proceeded cautiously, and upon seeing the tall, thin Huo Gong Toutuo sitting on a rock, his face lit up with joy. He quickly stepped forward, “Disciple greets Master.”
Huo Gong Toutuo smiled grimly, “Good disciple, have you found the Yi Jin Jing?”
The figure said, “Master, forgive me, I haven’t found it. However, I have remembered another divine skill.”
“Which supreme skill is it?”
“It is the highest realm of Shaolin internal energy, the Diamond Body.”
Huo Gong Toutuo cackled, “As expected of my good disciple.”
“Disciple will tell Master now.”
“Good.”
The figure recited the cultivation method of the Diamond Body to Huo Gong Toutuo. His memory was astonishing; the figure only said it twice, and he remembered it word for word.
Huo Gong Toutuo memorized it once and asked, “Are there still people in the temple cultivating this technique?”
The figure replied, “Tianxin and Tianming in the Arhat Hall and Dharma Hall have been cultivating for a long time, but no disciple has progressed as rapidly.”
Huo Gong Toutuo scoffed, “How can Tianxin and Tianming’s aptitude compare to yours? What about Ku Hui?”
“His injuries have completely healed, and he is now diligently cultivating.”
“Mm, the Diamond Body is not inferior to the Yi Jin Jing. You should stop for now and don’t deliberately memorize techniques, lest you reveal yourself. Just diligently cultivate in the temple. When I achieve great success in cultivating the Diamond Body, I will deal with those two old fellows. After the deed is done, you will inherit my mantle.”
“Disciple only wishes to serve Master. Without Master, there would be no disciple.”
“Good disciple, I will now tell you my insights on cultivating the Kasaya Subduing Demon Skill, One Reed Crossing the River, and the Shadowless Leg Technique.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Huo Gong Toutuo slowly recounted his cultivation insights for these three Shaolin supreme skills. The figure memorized them. The clouds flowed, and after nearly an hour, the figure bid farewell to Huo Gong Toutuo, circled around to the back of the mountain, and leaped into the temple.
Huo Gong Toutuo used the lightness skill of One Reed Crossing the River. He was like a wisp of smoke. When he reached Songshan, he found a secluded valley cave and began to diligently cultivate the divine skill that even the enlightened monk Kongjian could not overcome in the Heaven Sword world, and which Xie Xun, the Dharma King of the Ming Cult, could not contend with using his Seven Injury Fist.
…
The Great Wall outside Zhongdu City.
Zhou Yan and Li Mochou walked along, gazing at the winding Great Wall that stretched towards the distant mountains and disappeared into the clouds. Standing within it, the magnificent and majestic aura stirred their hearts.
For several days, Zhou Yan kept his promise and took Li Mochou to tour Zhongdu. They ate a splendid feast at “Songhe Tower” and drank lamb soup in an unknown alley within the city.
They rode horses to the West Mountain for hunting and took a boat on the Chaobai River.
The sky was clear. Now, the two of them had ascended the Great Wall, the Northern Qi Great Wall.
As autumn arrived, there were many scholars and poets out for excursions. The two admired the autumn mountains and maple leaves, occasionally listening to the verses and poems recited by scholars in front of or behind them, enjoying themselves.
The autumn chill deepened. Zhou Yan and Li Mochou stood on the Great Wall, their gaze fixed on the distant, colorful layers of forest.
Several scholars were out enjoying the autumn. One scholar saw a flock of geese in the sky and smiled, saying, “Throughout history, when it comes to expressing emotions with geese, Yuan Haowen’s ‘Mo Yu’er. Goose Mound Ci’ is unmatched.”
A scholar gently fanned himself and said, “Indeed, ‘What is love in this world, that it makes life and death inseparable? Flying together north and south, how many winters and summers have these old wings endured? Joy and sorrow, the pain of separation, among them are even more foolish lovers. You must have words: across vast layers of clouds, in the twilight snow of a thousand mountains, to whom does this lone shadow go?'”
“It’s a pity Yuan Haowen is a Jin person.”
“Literature knows no borders.”
“That’s true.”
The scholars walked past Zhou Yan and Li Mochou. Mochou looked at the pairs of geese in the blue sky and smiled at Zhou Yan, “Brother Zhou, this poem describes something different from the geese. Geese are not people, how can they feel sorrow?”
Zhou Yan only knew that Yuan Haowen was a Jin Dynasty poet, but he was vague about the year this poem, “Mo Yu’er. Goose Mound Ci,” was written. Hearing the scholars speak, he realized it had been composed.
Thinking of the poem Li Mochou recited in the Divine Condor world as she died in a sea of fire in the Valley of Unfeeling, and then looking at the bright-faced woman before him, he felt a pang of emotion. He said, “There’s a story behind this. While Yuan Haowen was on his way to an imperial examination, he heard a goose hunter say that a pair of geese flying together in the sky, one of them was caught, and the other plummeted from the sky, dying of heartbreak. This moved him to write the poem.”
“Ah, is that so?” Li Mochou gazed intently at the geese gradually disappearing into the sky, their shadows vanishing into the clouds. She suddenly said, “Qiu Qianren, Ouyang Feng, Huo Gong Toutuo, these people are all formidable, and they are all your rivals, Brother Zhou. You must take care of yourself in the future. If anything were to happen to you, Junior Sister and I would be very sad, just like those geese.”
Zhou Yan was stunned for a moment, then smiled:
“Alright!”
