Chapter 860: Wind and Snow Iron Cavalry Descends to Jiangnan (8)

Xu Fengnian and his group arrived at the foot of the mountain. The steps leading up, known as the Burning Incense Road or the Unburdening Road, totaled one thousand and eight. Zhang Longjing dismounted and explained that no matter how troubled the pilgrims were, walking this path would relieve them of their worries. However, Zhang Longjing added with a smile, "In my opinion, it's simply exhaustion. Even if you have worries, you'll be too tired to dwell on them." Xu Fengnian smiled faintly at this.

Zhang Longjing then lamented, "Liyang suppressed Buddhism, and now a magnificent, ancient thousand-year-old temple has been taken over by a Daoist priest who is very close to the government. All the monks have fled the temple. When that Daoist led soldiers to seal the temple, the monks couldn't even take a single ancient scripture with them. Our Prefectural Governor, who had not previously been a devotee of Huang-Lao teachings and whose pseudonym in earlier years was even associated with Buddhism when engaging in poetic exchanges with literary masters—he signed his works as 'Old Man Who Escaped Zen'—with a single decree from the imperial court, immediately transformed into a devout follower of the Dao. His pseudonym changed to 'Old Man of Purity and Tranquility.' Reportedly, he recently forged a successful connection with Grand Daoist Master Wu Lingsu in the capital. Last year, he received an outstanding 'Superior' rating in his performance review from the Provincial Governor. Soon, rumors began circulating that he was headed to the Ministry of Rites in the capital for a high-ranking official position."

Xu Fengnian, leading his horse, frowned and asked, "Is there a stone archway at the mountain gate ahead with the inscription 'Buddha is in the Present'?"

Zhang Longjing nodded and chuckled, "Your Highness is truly learned. There was indeed a stone archway there previously, and its inscription and couplets were masterpieces by the Great Sage of Calligraphy of the former Great Feng Dynasty—a treasure of the highest order. Unfortunately, when the Daoist priest occupied the grounds, for reasons unknown, someone pushed down the stone archway. Your Highness will not be able to see it on this trip."

Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly, saying, "Xu Xiao had some stories here back then. Since we're passing through Wucai Prefecture, it was on our way, so I was hoping to try my luck and see the old monk who once urged Xu Xiao to 'lay down the butcher's knife.' Never mind, let's head back."

Zhang Longjing exclaimed, "Such a thing happened? What a pity! If I had known, this subordinate would have added tens of thousands more taels in temple donations to Cold Mountain Temple."

Xu Fengnian merely smiled in response. He remounted his horse and began to retrace their steps. However, in the distance, by a small path, a flickering light was faintly visible, a sight that hadn't been there when they passed earlier. The old spy Song Shanshui, out of instinct, immediately grew wary but quickly relaxed. Leaving aside that His Highness is one of the Four Grandmasters of Martial Arts, a peak figure in the martial world, who would dare provoke Commander Yuan and Xu Yanbing, who acts as a personal attendant? Even individually, these two masters would likely require no fewer than seven or eight hundred imperial soldiers to confront them. Xu Fengnian possessed an eidetic memory. He had glanced earlier and saw that the flickering light came from a dilapidated Earth God Temple at a fork in the path. He slowed his horse's hooves and saw a hat-wearing old man in tattered clothes standing by the roadside, holding an oil lamp, accompanied by a sleepy child also wearing a cheap fur hat. Yuan Zuozong felt relieved. He had initially expected a reclusive master, but a closer look at the man's demeanor revealed him to be just an ordinary elder, albeit slightly more robust than others his age.

Xu Fengnian did not dismount, instead leaning forward and asking gently, "Is there something you require, elder?"

The old man, being advanced in years, had poor eyesight, and in the darkness, he raised his oil lamp high, then smiled, "Is the young master's surname Xu?"

Xu Fengnian paused, then counter-questioned, "Are you formerly from Cold Mountain Temple?"

The old man smiled and nodded.

To the astonishment of Zhang Longjing and Song Shanshui, Xu Fengnian quickly dismounted and approached the old man and child. He took out a Buddhist sutra, carefully wrapped in silk cloth, from his embrace and said, "Master lent this sutra to my father almost twenty years ago. It's time it was returned to its rightful owner."

The old man accepted the sutra without ceremony, then uttered a common, worldly request that greatly disappointed Zhang Longjing. Holding the lamp in one hand and stroking the child's hat with the other, the old man asked with a smile, "Patron Xu, could you spare this poor monk a few taels of silver? Our rice jar is empty today."

Xu Fengnian felt a bit awkward. The Northern Liang Iron Cavalry, on their journey south, lacked nothing except for these seemingly trivial precious metals. Zhang Longjing, the 'God of Wealth' of Wucai Prefecture, was utterly flabbergasted. He was not the kind of nouveau riche who would flaunt his wealth by wearing gold everywhere; even his jade pieces had to be worth at least a thousand taels of silver to even merit a glance. Naturally, he wasn't carrying gold or silver on this discreet journey. Fortunately, the old spy found a few taels of silver on him. Xu Fengnian took it and handed it to the old monk from Cold Mountain Temple—more accurately, to Monk Faxian, the former abbot of the renowned temple in Jiangnan, who wore a fur hat for warmth and concealment. The old monk had no qualms about touching money, unlike most monks. He brazenly slipped it into his sleeve with an almost unconcealed smile. The young monk beside the elder beamed with joy. With silver, they would have firewood, rice, oil, and salt, and wouldn't go hungry. How could they not be happy?

After accepting the silver, the old monk sighed, "The imperial court has decreed that temples and monks are no longer permitted across the Central Plains, and Cold Mountain Temple is no exception. Some have returned to secular life, others have traveled far. This poor monk also considered seeking alms in the Northwest, but I am too old. This newly adopted disciple is too young, and he is as frail on his feet as this poor monk. This delayed my departure. Later, I realized it wouldn't matter whether I went to Northern Liang or not. If I went to Northern Liang, this old monk would merely find a place to settle. By not going to Northern Liang, perhaps this poor monk can help more fated individuals find peace of mind."

Xu Fengnian said sincerely, "Master, I can arrange for your master and disciple to be escorted to Northern Liang. Once the world is more peaceful, if Master still wishes to return to the Central Plains, Northern Liang will certainly escort you."

The old monk smiled and shook his head, "Patron Xu, there's no need for such elaborate arrangements. Buddhist connections manifest where they may; there is no need to force them."

Xu Fengnian did not insist, knowing it would be futile. He merely smiled and said, "My father often spoke of Master, saying you are a truly enlightened monk with profound Buddhist teachings, and he admired you greatly."

The old monk burst into laughter. "Young Patron Xu, you jest! Though we only met once, how could this poor monk not know Old Patron Xu's temperament? It would be enough if he didn't curse this poor monk as an insensitive old bald-head."

Xu Fengnian was speechless. Regardless of his inner thoughts, Xu Xiao indeed referred to the old monk from Cold Mountain Temple as an 'old bald-head' every time he spoke of him, and even privately nicknamed the former abbot the 'Butcher Monk.' Xu Fengnian had heard the general outline of that incident from his mother when he was young. Monk Faxian hailed from a prominent aristocratic family, serving as an Assistant Director in the Ministry of Personnel in Western Chu. After resigning his official post, he first entered the Daoist faith, but rather than cultivating in renowned mountain temples, he chose a secluded small mountain peak, built a thatched hut, and lived in seclusion for many years. Later, for reasons unknown, he converted to Buddhism. It is said that he engaged in a debate with the previous abbot of Cold Mountain Temple, and to the world's astonishment, he inexplicably became abbot overnight. When the Xu family's iron cavalry swept across the Central Plains, conflict erupted wherever their hooves touched. Not only did the common people fear the 'Liaodong Tiger' from the Northeast, even the chief generals of the various Central Plains armies would turn pale at his name. Only Monk Faxian, carrying a Buddhist sutra, went alone to the Xu family's army camp, urging the then-unrivaled 'Butcher' Xu Xiao to lay down his blade. Had it not been for Wu Su's intervention, the monk, though he might not have lost his head, would likely not have escaped a severe beating. With his wife watching, Xu Xiao had no choice but to grit his teeth, accept the Buddhist sutra, and absentmindedly engage in a few incomprehensible words with the monk, before ordering him to be respectfully escorted out of the camp.

Zhang Longjing, capable of serving as Wucai Prefecture's Grand Secretary and one of the wealthiest men in the province, was remarkably shrewd. He seized the opportunity, saying, "Master, many in my household also observe vegetarianism and chant Buddhist scriptures. Recently, we require several Buddhist rituals to be performed..."

After patiently waiting for Zhang Longjing to conclude his impeccably phrased proposal, the old monk slowly began to speak. "Patron, this poor monk appreciates your kind intentions, but alas, what is performed at your home is not truly a Buddhist ritual."

Just when Zhang Longjing thought the matter had fallen through completely, the old monk unexpectedly changed his tune, smiling, "But I must still go. What if I encounter someone with a fated connection?"

Yuan Zuozong and Xu Yanbing exchanged glances.

Xu Fengnian showed no surprise, regretting genuinely, "The imperial court's suppression of Buddhism this time has complex reasons, and I won't dwell on such upsetting matters. However, I truly hope that Master can share the dharma with more people."

The old monk, struggling to hold the lamp, switched hands and calmly said, "Whether this poor monk preaches the dharma is one thing; how many people listen is another; and how many truly comprehend the dharma is yet another. Whether there are Buddhist temples in this world, whether there are Buddhist statues, whether there are Buddhist scriptures, whether there are monks, or even whether there is a Buddha, or a Western Paradise, none of these are truly the most important."

The old monk paused, looking at the young man. "It only matters whether sentient beings have that small space in their hearts to embrace the dharma. If the dharma exists, the temple exists, the monks exist, and the Buddha exists. Without the dharma, what good is it, even if all beings in the world become monks?"

Xu Fengnian nodded.

The principle the old monk articulated was profound, yet a profound truth, so long as it offers a foothold for humanity, is a genuine truth. The 'placing dharma in a small space' that the old monk spoke of was the dwelling place between the infinitely vast and the infinitesimally small. In the past, Xu Fengnian detested verbose scholars and was irritated by fortune-tellers who interpreted characters and divined. Looking back now, it was likely because he couldn't stand words that lacked practical application, particularly from the former, who knew *what* but not *why*, as if saying, "I've told you the principle, now what you do is your business." Even as Crown Prince, Xu Fengnian held strong opinions about so-called literati and civil officials. However, before and after the hereditary succession, despite two somewhat unpleasant experiences in the capital, his impression of Liyang scholars gradually improved. Among them were figures like Chancellor Wang, Huang Shang, Han Guzi, Qi Yanglong, and others, influential individuals who were not uniformly hostile toward Northern Liang. Naturally, there were also Zhang Julu and Huan Wen, pillars of the court who consistently harbored intentions of curtailing Northern Liang's power. Then Xu Fengnian began to ponder a question: Could young scholars, as they aged and gained more experience, also develop into esteemed pillars of the court, embodying the nation's integrity, worthy of everyone's admiration?

Monk Faxian glanced at those accompanying Xu Fengnian, then his gentle smile faded as he asked calmly, "Patron Xu, Northern Liang has raised the banner. Are you determined to rebel?"

Xu Fengnian shook his head. "No, not a rebellion."

The old monk, wearing a fur hat but no kasaya, thus not appearing as a monk, uttered a surprised 'Oh' and continued, "Is Your Highness here to suppress the rebellion by imperial decree?"

Xu Fengnian still shook his head. "There are imperial decrees from Tai'an City, but I certainly won't be receiving them. Most likely, Cai Nan, the Regional Commander of Lianghuai Province, and Military Commissioner Han Lin, both reportedly bedridden, have already received their decrees."

The old monk frowned and asked, "Then does Guangling Province require the Northern Liang cavalry to assist the imperial army in quelling the rebellion?"

Xu Fengnian continued to shake his head. "No. If it were needed, I wouldn't have just ten thousand Northern Liang cavalry behind me; at least an additional twenty thousand Youzhou infantry would be present."

At this point in the conversation, Yuan Zuozong narrowed his eyes, a profound killing intent welling within him.

The old monk said 'Oh' and then, expressionlessly, asked three questions in succession: "Is Northern Liang within Liyang's territory? Are the people of Northern Liang Liyang citizens? Is the Northern Liang border army part of the Liyang military?"

Xu Fengnian likewise nodded expressionlessly, saying, "All are."

The old monk, holding the oil lamp, stood in the night, silent for a long moment, then asked, "May I ask, King of Northern Liang, were any of Liyang's three emperors tyrannical or incompetent rulers?"

Xu Fengnian smiled. "Not only were there none, but setting aside the private feuds between the Xu and Zhao families, and speaking fairly and honestly, Liyang's three Zhao emperors were all exceptionally capable and enlightened rulers, rarely seen in historical records. Zhao Li's great talent and grand strategy surpassed even Liyang's founding emperor. Zhao Dun's diligence in governance and his magnanimity were likewise rare over a millennium. Zhao Zhuan's ambitions were lofty, yet he showed no signs of being a grand schemer lacking practical ability. Given ten years of peace, the world would surely be prosperous and tranquil."

The old monk chuckled derisively, then his smile suddenly vanished, and he spoke gravely, "Strange indeed!"

Xu Fengnian slowly slipped his hands into his sleeves. "Master must be wondering why you, a survivor of Western Chu, a monk forced to reside in an Earth God Temple at the mountain's base because your temple was sealed and destroyed, can still calmly view the world as it is, while I, Xu Fengnian, a dignified Prince of the Northwest, would lead troops south for personal gain?"

The old monk gazed at the young man, meeting his eyes rather than his face. "Does Your Highness have some unspoken difficulty?"

Xu Fengnian said with self-mockery, "Yes, but to everyone else, it's insignificant."

The old monk lightly raised the oil lamp in his hand. "Truly insignificant? This poor monk is old and muddled; without lifting this oil lamp, I cannot discern the path, nor see people, nor see you. Is that likewise insignificant? Perhaps it is to everyone else, but at this very moment, it is not to this poor monk."

Xu Fengnian hesitated, seemingly wanting to speak but holding back.

The old monk seemed to be speaking to himself. "This world is very strange. That desolate land of Northern Liang, back then, had to be defended by the Xu family's fierce army, and only with Xu Xiao at its helm could it deter Northern Mang. Otherwise, not to mention others, even Gu Jiantang couldn't have held it. At the same time, weakening the feudal lords was an inevitable trend. If the Xu family had fortunately prevailed against Northern Mang, then weakening their power would become an insurmountable task. Regardless of the intentions of the two successive Kings of Northern Liang, it couldn't be guaranteed that their loyal, direct subordinates wouldn't fan the flames, driven by the ambition to become kingmakers and earn imperial favor. Thus, the Zhao imperial family of Liyang found itself in a difficult position concerning Northern Liang and the Xu family. Though they were the Son of Heaven, they could only allow civil and military officials and scholars to hurl insults, yet the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry remained immovably under the Xu surname. Later, a high-ranking scholar named Zhang devised a plan: to let Northern Liang and Northern Mang exhaust each other, preferably to the point of mutual destruction."

Xu Fengnian laughed and said, "Yes, from the imperial court's perspective, it was a dog-eat-dog situation."

The old monk glanced at the young prince.

Xu Fengnian said frankly, "If it is said that my Xu family caused the imperial court to cease treating the people of Northern Liang as Liyang citizens, I accept that, and Xu Xiao accepted it too."

The old monk became silent.

Xu Fengnian stood there, somewhat lost in thought. "Furthermore, if it was my Xu family that caused the Northern Liang border army to bravely sacrifice themselves without their valor being recognized, I accept that too."

A young prince and an aged monk. As their conversation reached this point, the old spy instinctively reached for the Liangdao at his waist, but Yuan Zuozong gently pressed the old man's arm, shaking his head at the indignant expression on his face.

Xu Fengnian stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, conversing like a young farmer from the countryside chatting with an elder about crop harvests. There was no resentment or indignation in his words, certainly no passionate fervor, just casual talk, as if discussing the need to quickly gather grain from the drying ground before the impending rain, or how this spring's abundant rainfall should ensure a few more piculs of rice than last year's harvest.