The scout was waiting outside. When he saw Xiao Rong, he reported everything he knew in detail.

 

The Northern Defending Army had encountered the Buddha on the outskirts of Anding City. At that time, he was about to enter the city. Anding City was already remote, and after being targeted by the Xianbei people, no one dared to go out anymore. The number of people entering the city each day was already low. Since Qu Yunmie had followed Xiao Rong’s advice and sent people to keep watch for the Buddha, this was the first monk they had encountered on the main road.

 

Xiao Rong looked puzzled as he listened. “Are you sure it’s the Buddha’s Child? What’s his name?”

 

The scout scratched his head. “He said his religious name is Mijing.”

 

Xiao Rong then smiled. “That’s correct, it’s indeed him. What did you think of him? His appearance, demeanor, and attire—what kind of impression did he give you?”

 

The scout hesitated. When he learned it was the Buddha’s Child, he hadn’t taken a good look at him; he had rushed back immediately and couldn’t recall much. However, fearing Xiao Rong’s displeasure, he racked his brain and managed to come up with an answer. “He seemed very wealthy.”

 

Xiao Rong: “…”

 

Hasn’t he been wandering for eight years? He should be getting more and more destitute, not wealthier.

 

Xiao Rong couldn’t figure it out, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. The summer residence began every year on the 16th of April, and it was already the 2nd of April. He couldn’t afford any more delays and needed to bring the Buddha’s Child back quickly.

 

Moreover, after discovering that the monk was indeed the Buddha’s Child, the Northern Defending Army stationed there had already detained him. Xiao Rong had to hurry over to avoid giving the monk the impression that they had any ill intentions—otherwise, who would Xiao Rong complain to?

 

With that in mind, he made a quick decision. “Get two horses ready. I’ll go back with you, and I’ll personally bring him here.”

 

The scout was stunned and was about to say something when a sinister voice sounded behind them. “Where do you plan to go personally?”

 

Xiao Rong turned around and saw Qu Yunmie standing there, with Jian Qiao following behind, looking quite worried.

 

Xiao Rong blinked and answered, “To Anding City, to show the Buddha’s Child the sincerity of the Northern Defending Army.”

 

Qu Yunmie replied, “I’ve had my personal guards waiting for so long for him, isn’t that enough sincerity?!”

 

Xiao Rong: “…”

 

He silently looked at Qu Yunmie, the meaning in his gaze obvious.

 

Qu Yunmie asked, “… So how do you plan to go?”

 

Xiao Rong smiled. “Naturally, by riding a fast horse. We can’t keep the Buddha’s Child waiting.”

 

Qu Yunmie paused for a moment, then looked Xiao Rong up and down. “You even find walking exhausting, but now you’re willing to ride six hundred miles for a monk? By the time you get there, you’ll be either dead or half-dead!”

 

Xiao Rong was taken aback and, after a brief moment of thought, nodded. “The King makes a good point.”

 

Qu Yunmie snorted. “I always make good points.”

 

Xiao Rong smiled. “Then, I’ll follow the King’s advice and won’t go.”

 

Qu Yunmie gave him a sidelong glance, thinking Xiao Rong was being unusually obedient today. Just as he was about to reluctantly praise him, Xiao Rong quickly bowed deeply toward him and said, “Since I’m not going, I’ll have to trouble the King to go in my place.”

 

Qu Yunmie: “…”

 

Qu Yunmie stared at him in shock, thinking he must have misheard. Was Xiao Rong seriously asking him to invite that bald monk?

 

However, Xiao Rong was serious. He raised his head and earnestly said to Qu Yunmie, “Compared to the King, my status is insignificant. If the King personally goes, the Buddha’s Child will see the King’s respect for talented people, and I’m sure the Buddha will be moved.”

 

Qu Yunmie said, “I won’t—”

 

Xiao Rong quickly cut him off. “If the Buddha’s Child is moved, he’ll be more willing to sincerely serve the King.”

 

Qu Yunmie again said, “I still won’t—”

 

Xiao Rong interrupted again. “Is the King worried the Buddha’s Child won’t give you face?”

 

Qu Yunmie paused for a moment, then angrily replied, “He wouldn’t dare!”

 

He clamped his mouth shut, his lips pursed as he looked at Xiao Rong, a bit frustrated. After a moment, he spat out a resigned, “Fine, I’ll go. Bring my horse!”

 

Jian Qiao, who had been standing quietly behind them, quickly instructed someone nearby to bring the horse. Before long, a snorting horse was led over. Qu Yunmie, with a sullen expression, mounted the horse, and a few soldiers prepared to follow him.

 

Just as Qu Yunmie was about to pull the reins, a cold, slender hand reached up and grasped his forearm, stopping his movement.

 

Qu Yunmie looked down to see Xiao Rong standing beside the horse. He wasn’t short, but Qu Yunmie was riding a tall Western horse, so Xiao Rong’s eyes were level with the horse’s mane.

 

Xiao Rong looked up at Qu Yunmie, his expression sincere. “Your Majesty, please don’t act rashly. No matter what happens, please treat the Buddha’s Child with kindness.”

 

Qu Yunmie: “…”

 

He felt a surge of irritation but held it back and reluctantly agreed. “I know.”

 

He shifted his arm, and Xiao Rong quickly let go. Qu Yunmie didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he looked at the ground near Xiao Rong’s feet.

 

Xiao Rong realized what he meant and quickly stepped back several paces, moving far enough away that even the dust wouldn’t touch him. Only then did Qu Yunmie turn away, giving the horse a firm kick. As the horse neighed, Qu Yunmie and his men gradually disappeared from Xiao Rong’s sight.

 

Xiao Rong stood there, quietly watching them leave.

 

Jian Qiao, who had been standing next to him, had a worried expression that never left his face. “The King didn’t seem very willing.”

 

Xiao Rong replied, “Indeed.”

 

Jian Qiao couldn’t shake his unease. “Can the King really handle this? What if the Buddha says something that upsets him? He could end up killing the Buddha’s Child with a single strike.”

 

Xiao Rong said, “That’s entirely possible.”

 

Jian Qiao snapped his head around, shocked. “And you still let the King go alone?!”

 

Xiao Rong glanced at him. “Who said he would go alone? The King will go first, and I’ll follow later. First, whether or not the King offends the Buddha’s Child, the monk will have seen his sincerity, and he would indeed have been personally welcomed by the King. Second, there’s a principle of initial suppression followed by later elevation. Monks generally don’t like dealing with someone like the King, who has committed many killings. Even if the King smiles at him, the Buddha’s prejudice won’t easily change, and it might even make him think the King is hypocritical. It’s better to let him see the King’s true nature, lowering his expectations, and then persuade him. This way, I won’t have to rush. General Jian, is the carriage you had made for me still available?”

 

Jian Qiao: “…”

 

He looked at Xiao Rong helplessly. The topic had shifted too quickly, and what started as a serious matter suddenly turned trivial. He was just an ordinary person and couldn’t keep up with Xiao Rong’s pace.

 

“It’s still available, but Sir Xiao, even if you take the carriage, the earliest you could arrive would be tomorrow. The King should reach Anding City by tonight.”

 

Jian Qiao worriedly asked him, “Aren’t you afraid the King won’t be able to control his temper today?”

 

Xiao Rong sighed. “That’s why I reminded him not to act rashly. Don’t worry, the King is someone who values his promises. He should be able to hold on for a day, and by then, I’ll be there.”

 

Jian Qiao was completely convinced. Xiao Rong had calculated every step in advance, but how did he know the King would come? He had clearly planned to rush over on horseback himself initially.

 

Could it be that the moment he saw the King, he decided to do this?

 

Jian Qiao didn’t dare to say anything more and quietly went to arrange the carriage. Before long, Xiao Rong also set off.

＊＊＊

In Anding City, the Northern Defending Army didn’t allow Mijing to leave and instead arranged for him to stay at an inn. He was escorted up the inn’s stairs under the watchful eyes of the soldiers. Nearby townsfolk gathered around, whispering as they watched him.

 

The door closed, shutting out the curious and worried gazes of the townspeople and sealing him off from the seemingly polite yet firm custody of the Northern Defending Army.

 

Mijing sat cross-legged on a mat in the inn’s room, slowly rolling prayer beads between his fingers.

 

He had encountered such treatment countless times before. Having gained fame early, every leader wanted to have him as an honored guest, though in reality, it was just to exploit his reputation and use him for their own purposes.

 

Princes, emperors, the Kunmi of Wusun, the Emperor of the Xianbei, and even the royal masters of India had all sought him out, and now, the King of the North was added to that list.

 

When Mijing left the Central Plains, Qu Yunmie hadn’t risen to prominence, but during his years abroad, he had kept a close eye on the shifting powers in the region. On his way back, he passed through Kucha, Yanqi, and Shanshan, where discussions about the King of the North were common. Mijing was well aware of what Qu Yunmie and his army had done.

 

As he rolled the prayer beads, Mijing suddenly paused, opening his half-closed eyes to gaze at the door. It was now dusk, and just a moment earlier, a soldier had brought him a vegetarian meal, though he hadn’t touched it.

 

He listened as the heavy, hasty footsteps outside grew closer. In the next instant, the door was forcefully pushed open.

 

In the hands of the person who entered, the two wooden doors seemed as flimsy as paper kites, swinging wide open. A handsome man dressed in black robes appeared before Mijing, his narrow eyes slightly squinting as he assessed the monk, his gaze devoid of any friendliness.

 

Mijing calmly looked up, meeting his gaze without the slightest hint of fear or submission.

…

Meanwhile, Xiao Rong was sitting in the carriage, bouncing up and down with each jolt.

 

He held onto the carriage, grimacing as he thought to himself that when he had the time, he would definitely need to renovate the carriage. When the capital was relocated to Chenliu, he would still have to travel by carriage, and it wouldn’t be just 600 miles—it would be a full 1,400 miles! Crossing mountains and rivers was enough to make him feel nauseous just thinking about it.

 

Just as he was thinking this, they hit another bump, and Xiao Rong was jolted up with a thud, then came back down with another thud.

 

Xiao Rong thought: “…”

 

His poor backside.

 

When he had spoken to Jian Qiao, he had appeared calm and unhurried, as if he wasn’t in the least bit anxious. After actually getting into the carriage, however, he ordered the guards to ignore him and drive at full speed.

 

Qu Yunmie’s nature was something he had mostly figured out by now. However, the person he was truly worried about was the Buddhist master.

 

When he had recommended the Buddhist master to Qu Yunmie and Gao Xunzhi, he had only mentioned the good things, avoiding anything unpleasant.

 

For example, the master wasn’t as simple as they believed him to be—just a saintly figure who only knew how to save lives. In later years, he was regarded as a high monk, poet, writer, politician, and philosopher during the final years of the Yong dynasty.

 

The other titles weren’t important, but the word “politician” was key.

 

Everyone thought the master had gone abroad for pilgrimage or Buddhist studies, but in fact, he was observing the social structures of other countries, gathering knowledge both useful and not, with plans to implement them in the Central Plains. The events of eight years ago had taught him that mere chanting wasn’t very effective, so he intended to continue chanting while actively participating in the political arena from which he had previously been excluded.

 

During his years as the imperial advisor to the young Emperor, he had turned the Southern Yong court upside down. The Imperial Uncle Sun Renluan, Chancellor Yang Zangyi, the Empress Dowager Sun Shannv, and the young Emperor He Fu—he had maneuvered among these powerful figures, sometimes collaborating with one, sometimes speaking for another. Because of his status as a monk, no one could do anything to him, allowing him to achieve his aims multiple times.

 

If it weren’t for Qu Yunmie’s unexpected move, the Master might have advanced further, possibly even overshadowing Sun Renluan. Even so, in politics, no one could compete with someone wielding a weapon. Qu Yunmie killed the young emperor, rendering all of the Master’s efforts over those years futile.

 

Qu Yunmie had a grudge against the Empress Dowager and the Emperor, but not against the Master, so he didn’t kill him. The Master, holding the young emperor’s corpse, had looked steadily at Qu Yunmie and uttered the famous line that would be remembered for a thousand years: “He who cannot tolerate sand is intolerable to sand, he who hates heaven and earth is hated by heaven and earth.”

 

This line was recorded in Old Yong History and was later analyzed by countless people. Most believed that the Master foresaw Qu Yunmie’s impending downfall due to his extreme nature, which led to his ultimate ruin. Setting aside all these interpretations, the line was a simple curse filled with resentment, and it eventually came true. 

 

After the young emperor’s death, the Master returned to the monastery. Many people believed that Qu Yunmie was cursed to death by that one sentence, which only increased their reverence for the monk.

 

Later, the King of Dongyang tried to invite him to come out of retirement, but he refused. The Han Family later made the same request, and he refused again. People believed that the Master was deeply affected by the young emperor’s death, which was understandable. The Master was human, and a genius who had always been proud and ambitious from a young age. How could he endure repeated failures?

 

In the end, he never left the monastery for the rest of his life, passing away at the age of ninety. No one knew what he did during those sixty years in the monastery, as he left no writings and took no disciples. It was as if he had vanished from the world. It was truly lamentable—his life had begun like a dazzling firework, but ended like the empty night sky after the fireworks had faded, leaving people with lingering thoughts and deep sighs.

…

Compared to Qu Yunmie, who spent his entire life making mistakes, Xiao Rong naturally had a better impression of the Master who had worked to save the world. Despite this, his thoughts were no longer as naive as they had been at first. The Master had his own ambitions, which might conflict with Xiao Rong’s plans or even Qu Yunmie’s. Xiao Rong needed the Master’s help but he didn’t want to invite trouble.

 

At this thought, Xiao Rong suddenly found himself missing the simple-minded king.

 

Qu Yunmie was still better—he was straightforward, wearing his thoughts on his face, was easy to fool, and could be easily swayed.

 

Ah, if only everyone were as simple-minded as Qu Yunmie.

 

Qu Yunmie had only stayed in Mijing’s room for a quarter of an hour before he pushed the door open again, coming out with a displeased expression.

 

A guard cautiously asked, “Great King, did the Master refuse to return with you?”

 

Qu Yunmie: “…”

 

He didn’t want to talk.

 

Refuse? The Master hadn’t even been willing to say a single word to him! Out of respect for Xiao Rong, Qu Yunmie had tried to speak politely, asking how Mijing had been over the years, but his responses had been curt and brief.

 

“Good. Fine. Yes.”

…

 

Qu Yunmie had been the King of the North for over a year, had seen many grand occasions, and had even spent some time in the imperial palace. He knew what a polite refusal was.

 

Qu Yunmie gritted his teeth, feeling angry but not to the point of wanting to kill anyone. After all, Xiao Rong had brainwashed him many times. Although he didn’t like the monk, he had come to believe that the monk was important and shouldn’t be harmed casually.

 

Xiao Rong had no idea how obedient Qu Yunmie had become. If he knew, he wouldn’t have needed to waste so much effort on getting a promise.

 

Night fell, and Qu Yunmie went to sleep in another room, planning to visit the Master again the next day.

 

Lying in bed, with his arm under his head, Qu Yunmie thought about Mijing’s seemingly humble yet fearless demeanor and let out a cold laugh.

 

Once, twice, but not thrice—he would visit Mijing twice at most. If Mijing maintained the same attitude, Qu Yunmie wouldn’t bother being polite anymore. He would just tie him up and carry him back. He clearly remembered Xiao Rong once telling him that even if the Master couldn’t be used by him, he shouldn’t be used by anyone else. That was Xiao Rong’s bottom line.

 

So while Xiao Rong valued the Master, it wasn’t to the point of being irreplaceable. If the Master didn’t meet his expectations, Xiao Rong would disrespect him too.

 

Qu Yunmie was the one Xiao Rong had personally deemed indispensable.

 

With this thought in mind, Qu Yunmie slept soundly. In his dreams, something pleasant made him chuckle softly, and he continued to sleep peacefully after turning over.

…

 

That night, only Qu Yunmie slept soundly without a care. Mijing, pondering how to deal with Qu Yunmie, and didn’t sleep at all. Xiao Rong, cramped in the carriage, couldn’t even close his eyes for a moment of rest.

 

By noon the next day, Xiao Rong finally arrived at his destination. The guards led him to the inn, and just as he reached the entrance, a familiar wave of dizziness hit him.

 

Xiao Rong instinctively grabbed the inn door for support, muttering to himself that this wasn’t good, and hurried upstairs.

 

The guards following him were alarmed, as Xiao Rong held onto the railing with both hands, swaying with each step, making them worry he might fall.

 

Dizzy and lightheaded, Xiao Rong reached Mijing’s door just in time to hear Qu Yunmie’s voice.

“You’re refusing the carrot and asking for the stick!”

 

Inside, Qu Yunmie had just finished saying this when the door behind him was opened. Qu Yunmie turned around, and his expression froze.

 

He had just promised to treat the Master kindly.

 

Mijing looked up first and saw a man outside the door who was even more beautiful than the Princess of Kucha. He was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at the oddly silent King of the North.

 

The King stared at the unexpected visitor for a long moment before finally standing up and asking with some hesitation, “Why are you here?”

 

Then, noticing the visitor’s pale complexion, his tone became more assertive. “Why do you look so unwell? Did you travel through the night?!”

 

The visitor took a deep breath, glanced at the King, but didn’t answer any of his questions. Instead, he turned his attention to Mijing. Just as Mijing had been momentarily surprised to see him, the visitor was also taken aback by Mijing’s appearance.

 

Mijing was dressed in a gray monk’s robe, which, at that time, was not much different from Central Plains clothing. The robe was wide and long, without any patterns, and its colors were less vibrant than regular clothes.

 

Wearing a gray outer robe and a white inner garment, Mijing sat upright and dignified. A long prayer bead necklace hung around his neck, and he held a shorter strand in his hand. His eyes were clear, and his features were refreshingly handsome. Being a monk, of course, he had no hair, but monks of that time didn’t have the practice of marking their heads with burn scars, so Mijing was simply shaved bald.

 

Probably from having traveled for a long time, his scalp had a faint bluish tint, the sign of hair roots starting to grow back.

 

He was good-looking, with a nicely shaped head, and the baldness didn’t detract from his appearance. In fact, it enhanced it. Even while sitting, Xiao Rong could tell that he was a tall and elegant man, with a serene and calming presence.

 

Xiao Rong suddenly wondered if the rumors about Mijing having an affair with Empress Dowager Sun were true or just fabricated by later generations.

 

Seeing Mijing like this, Xiao Rong felt that it was understandable if the Empress Dowager couldn’t resist.

…

Xiao Rong stared at Mijing for a little too long, making Mijing uncomfortable, and the King of the North, whom Xiao Rong had been ignoring, felt even more uneasy, to the point where his eyes seemed to burn with anger.

 

“Xiao Rong!!!”

 

Xiao Rong’s ears hurt from the shout. He had rushed up here because he was worried Qu Yunmie might do something reckless, and he was already feeling a bit resentful. So, hearing this, he retorted unhappily, “Why is Your Highness shouting so loudly?”

 

Qu Yunmie: “…”

 

You’ve gotten bold!

 

He was furious, but when he met Xiao Rong’s equally righteous gaze, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t kill him, he didn’t even dare to hit him—Xiao Rong was as delicate as a porcelain doll. He didn’t even dare touch him, for fear of making him ill. As for scolding him, why bother humiliating himself?

 

Especially with Mijing present. Qu Yunmie didn’t want to be laughed at by an outsider.

 

Qu Yunmie instinctively looked at Mijing, only to find Mijing looking at him strangely. Qu Yunmie hesitated briefly, still unsure of what to say when Xiao Rong followed his gaze and noticed the monk observing them.

 

Xiao Rong: “…”

 

Setting aside his frustration, Xiao Rong spoke seriously to Qu Yunmie. “I ultimately couldn’t rest easy with Your Highness traveling alone, so I decided to follow. It seems Your Highness’s conversation with the monk didn’t go well. May I have a moment to speak with the monk? I have some insights into the Buddhist scriptures that I’d like to discuss with such a high master.”

 

Although Xiao Rong hadn’t explicitly asked him to leave, Qu Yunmie knew he wanted to talk to the monk alone. After a brief pause, Qu Yunmie first glanced at the detestable monk who had lowered his head again, then at the equally detestable Xiao Rong who was waiting for his answer.

 

Qu Yunmie remained silent for a moment, then plopped down into his seat, saying, “Go ahead and talk. Pretend I’m not here.”

 

Xiao Rong: “…”!

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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