CHAPTER 193: CHAPTER 116: THE BEGGAR MONK

"You misunderstand, sir. I just returned from the academy. Speaking of which, Sister Liu taught me a new play today. I’ll sing it for you later..."

Xu Qing walked ahead, and the embroidery girl floated beside him. Seeing that he never looked aside, she drifted in front of him, facing him, and floated backward.

The female ghost’s long, black hair danced like a waterfall, and her white dress with long sleeves flew around. It seemed as if she was afraid people wouldn’t know she was a ghost!

Seeing the ghost becoming more and more recklessly bold, Xu Qing squinted his eyes and sternly said, "Show me your hand!"

The embroidery girl was puzzled. It wasn’t until she saw him pull out a smooth, greasy stick that she understood.

"A good ghost doesn’t block the road. When walking outside, one must not appear strange or supernatural, but blend in like a regular person, or fortune will be distant, and disaster will come!"

The embroidery girl immediately calmed down, no longer floating around, and followed quietly behind.

As a ghost, her footsteps made no sound, and Xu Qing, hearing nothing for a while, turned to see her biting her lip shyly, lost in thought.

Xu Qing furrowed his brows tightly. Did this ghost have some kind of peculiar habit?

Upon returning to the secluded courtyard, the embroidery girl was as happy as a butterfly. Occasionally, she would hold new shoes to Xu Qing, and at other times, she would return to the weaving room to show him a freshly sewn scholar’s robe of blue and white.

"Sir, as a scholar, you should wear such elegant attire."

Watching the diligent embroidery girl carefully arranging his collar, Xu Qing wondered if he had caught a guardian ghost or brought back a maid.

Shaking his head, Xu Qing pulled out the fierce flag and planted it in the courtyard to absorb the Yin Evil Qi, and then he picked up a shovel and began digging a pit.

Even as a scholar, he still had to bury bodies personally.

"Sir, how can you do such menial work yourself? Let me handle these dirty and tiring tasks!"

Xu Qing straightened his back and raised an eyebrow, "Who said this is menial work? Even immortals till the land joyfully, and you and I hoeing and planting is a form of cultivation."

The embroidery girl blinked, watching Xu Qing toil away, thinking, "Other people plant crops, not bodies!"

After burying a few bodies, Xu Qing saw the embroidery girl with nothing to do and said, "Didn’t you say you learned new operas from Boss Liu? Sing one for me."

The embroidery girl perked up immediately upon hearing this.

"What would you like to hear, sir?"

As he buried the water worker’s body, Xu Qing patted the soil and compacted it.

"Sing the one you are best at."

"Then I’ll sing ’Butterfly Dream’ for you..." The embroidery girl cleared her throat, covering her face with her long sleeves, her delicate lips slightly parting. Such a light and ethereal voice, only a ghost could produce such an effect.

"I will always remember your goodness, sir. I will always long for the serene Southern Mountain, will miss, the whispering bamboo under the crescent moon, the light flickering like a boat drifting.

Will miss, that night may be short but better than a lifetime, the green hills and flowing water will make us remember only love, not hate..."

Xu Qing recognized the hidden meaning within the opera’s lines.

Back then, he ventured to exorcise demons and ghosts but ended up sparing the embroidery girl due to a twist of fate.

"Reside in the serene land of Nan Hua, where the breeze and bright moon make reading and understanding mysteries ideal. Let the murmuring stream soothe my mind, and the mountain wind’s whispers resolve my confusion, merging with nature to find peace..."

After burying the bodies, the courtyard had accumulated nearly a hundred corpses, with the quality of the bodies being significantly better, elevating the overall level of Yin Evil Qi.

Xu Qing felt that the next fierce general fruit they condensed would be even more robust.

...

Five hundred miles away from Linhe, in Quyang County.

Zhu Huai’an was invited by the Commandery Prince of Xuanping and was currently staying at the Prince’s Mansion.

The Commandery Prince of Xuanping never had close ties with Prince Changting’s mansion, so his hospitality seemed strange.

Zhu Huai’an was deep in thought when suddenly a familiar voice came from outside.

"Your Highness hasn’t rested yet?"

Zhu Huai’an had his guards open the door, and an older scholar of around fifty walked into the room.

This man had been one of Prince Changting’s advisors, serving as a military strategist during the prince’s numerous campaigns.

"We are now living under someone else’s roof, like fish on a chopping board, never knowing when the knife will fall. How can I sleep peacefully..."

Gongsun Jin frowned, "Your Highness suspects the Commandery Prince of Xuanping?"

Zhu Huai’an dipped his brush and started writing on the rice paper.

"Whether he harbors ill intentions or not, this place is not safe for long. We should leave as soon as possible tomorrow."

"As for the Commandery Prince of Xuanping, instruct everyone not to sleep deeply tonight. We will depart for the Northern Territory at the hour of the ox, before dawn."

Gongsun Jin nodded, then looked at what Zhu Huai’an was writing.

"When did Your Highness start writing poetry?"

Zhu Huai’an smiled, "Like my father, I’m not skilled in poetry. This is just a playful poem I wrote with friends during our youthful excursions."

"Have you heard of the old emperor’s ’Flying Snow’? Back then, I wrote ’Flying Rain’ to mock the Poetry Collection Officers, and everyone applauded. Looking back now, it’s quite amusing."

Gongsun Jin vaguely remembered this. Throughout his life, the Emperor Longping wrote many poems, and only ’Flying Snow’ had some artistic value, but the most striking verse was not the emperor’s own work.

The scholar chuckled, looking at the poem Zhu Huai’an had just written.

"Drop by drop,

One after another,

Relentlessly falling,

Washing the mountains and rivers anew."

Gongsun Jin’s eyelid twitched; despite his age, he couldn’t hide his excitement.

Back then, Prince Changting had unrivaled military virtue and organization, his prestige even surpassing that of the Emperor Longping, yet he refused to take that crucial step.

Now, though Zhu Huai’an had thoughts of developing the Northern Territory, it seemed everyone was uncertain of his true intentions.

Seeing this poem, Gongsun Jin now fully understood the prince’s ambitions.

"Though old and feeble, my mind is still sharp. If you are determined, Your Highness, I will give my all to support you."

Zhu Huai’an quickly helped him up, and as they exchanged a meaningful glance, they were interrupted by a sudden shout from outside.

"Assassins!"

As soon as the cry fell, the sounds of powerful crossbows echoed throughout the courtyard.

"Thunk, thunk, thunk—"

Inside, several guards pushed Zhu Huai’an and Gongsun Jin to the ground just as countless arrows pierced the room, as fierce as a storm, threatening to demolish the entire house.

The sounds of battle outside were deafening, like thunderbolts.

"Who are you to dare attack the Prince’s Mansion at night?"

Guard Yao Shan heard the commotion outside and spoke in a deep voice, "It’s General Duan!"

"General Duan’s martial prowess is second only to the prince’s, but even he cannot fend off these arrows. The attackers must be well-prepared, with higher-level martial artists to restrain him."

"Your Highness, we must act quickly and seek the Commandery Prince’s protection."

"We must not seek the prince!" Gongsun Jin, listening to the intense fighting outside, had a grave expression.

"Your Highness, why is there no sound from the prince’s mansion?"

Zhu Huai’an chuckled lightly, as if he had anticipated this.

"We barely left the Jin Sect, and they are already anxious. Let’s proceed with our plan. As for the Commandery Prince of Xuanping..."

"We’ll settle accounts with him later!"

...

Moments later, disciplined and resolute assassins broke through the defense, reaching Zhu Huai’an’s courtyard.

Before anyone could react, two figures burst through the tiles of the west wing, carrying someone as they swiftly fled north.

"Pursue!"

About ten breaths later, as the courtyard began to calm, a few more shadows quickly slipped out, eastward, carrying someone.

"Where do you think you’re going!"

Yet more concealed martial artists emerged to pursue.

Once the courtyard returned to calm, the Commandery Prince could no longer contain himself and led his guards to clean up.

Not far from the Prince’s Mansion, several assassins who had mingled among the pursuers slowed down and turned into an alley.

They removed their bloodstained clothes and, after a few twists and turns, arrived at a rented house.

"Zhao Rong will not let this go. From now on, Your Highness must travel incognito."

"This is a necessary measure, though risky. Your Highness must exercise utmost caution,"

Zhu Huai’an nodded, "Since that’s the case, don’t call me Your Highness from now on."

Then he remembered something and asked, "Wang Liang, where are the things I asked you to bring?"

Wang Liang, who had been following Zhu Huai’an, opened a bundle, revealing some tattered monk robes and begging bowls.

Seeing the items, the elderly scholar was puzzled, "What’s this?"

Zhu Huai’an took out a razor from the bundle and resolutely said, "Our bodies are gifts from our parents. Cutting your hair is as grievous as losing your head. No one would suspect I’d take such a step."

"Wang Liang, shave my head!"

"Your Highness..." Wang Liang, born in poverty, found it hard to bear cutting the noble prince’s hair.

Zhu Huai’an insisted, "Small sacrifices must be made for the greater good. The journey to the North is long and arduous. Do you think we can make it alive?"

"Not to mention bandits and thieves along the way. Even commoners might struggle on such a journey.

If I dress normally, there’s almost no chance I’d reach the Northern Territory.

Only by disguising myself as a poor begging monk will no one give me a second glance."

Convinced by his words, Wang Liang hesitated no more. He drew his knife and first cut his own long hair, then began shaving Zhu Huai’an’s head.

The scholar, seeing this, also took out his sword and cut off his hair.

Soon, several dusty, ragged monks appeared in the courtyard.

The old monk leaned on his cane, the little chubby monk held a begging bowl, his face dirty,

and the thin little monk carried pots and pans on his back, looking like a refugee.

The old monk, Gongsun Jin, looked at the two young monks and couldn’t see any trace of the prince.

"Master Zhi Chan, we shall set off tomorrow and head north to enlighten the people."

Gongsun Jin, who had shed his scholar’s attire, pondered briefly before giving Zhu Huai’an and Wang Liang Dharma names.

One was Shi Ming, the other Shi Jing.