novelraw Chapter 327 - 105: Disciples of the Hehuan Sect
Chapter 327 - 105: Disciples of the Hehuan Sect
’To Young Master Fang:
Life is fleeting, like the autumn of plants and trees. How fortunate I am to have met you, Young Master, with no regrets.
I still remember...
My sisters and I once heard you eloquently discuss the grand trends of the world, saw you gesturing with grandeur, listened to your zither that transcends ancient and modern times, and tasted the exquisite wines and delicacies you presented.
You, Young Master, are like an immortal, untainted by the mundane, leaving people in admiration.
To have accompanied you, how blessed are Qinghuan and Jin Shu?
In the blink of an eye, nearly three years have passed, hundreds of days and nights, as if in a dream. Yet, heaven does not fulfill people’s wishes; a dream will eventually have its waking moment.’
The wheels clattered.
The carriage jolted up and down due to the muddy road.
The familiar fragrance still lingered on the letter in his hand. Fang Zheng sighed lightly and turned to the second page, where the tone suddenly shifted, indicating a change of writer.
’The autumn air is chilly; Master, remember to dress warmly.
In the midst of the unknown, perhaps heaven truly determines everyone’s destiny.
How unfortunate we sisters are, having experienced the destruction of our family and exhausting our efforts. Yet, how fortunate we are to have met you, Young Master.
You often jest and are cynical, yet you have a compassionate heart and embrace the world, adding a glimmer to this cold world.
I still remember the words you gave: Choose a worthy partner and a rightful place, to work at dusk, rest at sunset, enjoy three meals a day alongside the seasons, and hold hands for a lifetime.
Such words are beautiful.
At last, words have a limit...
Life is long and bitter, I wish you peace.’
The tear stains on the letter showed that the two women left with deep reluctance, though it was unclear why they insisted on leaving quietly.
"Alas!"
Fang Zheng raised his head, his previously calm eyes rippling with emotion.
Who is not moved by emotion while alive?
Jin Shu was as beautiful as a fairy and possessed an insightful mind, her sharp intellect making conversations with her transcend time.
Liu Qinghuan still had the heart of a young girl, and her mesmerizing dance could leave one in awe. No matter the anguish in the heart, it would dissipate quietly in her presence.
After hundreds of nights and days spent together, their bond was akin to close friends or family, each with secrets but tacitly understanding each other.
Suddenly.
The two women left a letter and departed without a word, leaving Fang Zheng with a sense of perplexity and melancholy.
"Young Master."
Xiang Xiu’s voice sounded:
"We’ve reached the post station; shall we take a rest?"
"Hmm."
Fang Zheng returned to his senses, nodding:
"Let’s stop and eat something before continuing on."
"Yes."
Xiang Xiu complied, leaping off the carriage and leading the horse to the post station entrance to tether it, his actions as efficient as an experienced coachman.
Who would have thought.
Such an unremarkable-looking older man would actually be a Great Zhou Celestial Martial Artist?
As someone responsible for conveying documents of the Imperial Court, places to change horses or rest, such as post stations, were often located at crucial junctures, interconnected roads.
Many years ago.
Post stations became financially independent, with the Imperial Court no longer covering the costs.
Gradually.
Post stations turned into inns or taverns receiving travelers. The officials and clerks became keepers and waiters.
"Half a catty of wine, three pounds of meat, two side dishes."
Xiang Xiu called out:
"Make it quick!"
"Yes."
The waiter replied promptly, rushing to notify the kitchen.
Fang Zheng sat by the window, turning his head to see the scenes on the official road. Due to the floods, all he saw during the journey were refugees.
The refugees sat dejectedly under the shade of trees, with vacant eyes fixed upon the post station, their throats frequently swallowing, yet not daring to ask for food.
They must have tried before, but the guards at the entrance of the post station, all robust and well-fed, were not to be trifled with.
The scars on their bodies were likely acquired during attempts to beg.
"Mother of Non-Birth, Realm of Vacuity..."
"Ming King manifests, Maitreya descends..."
Alongside the chanting, several corpulent monks approached from afar, each holding a bowl filled with clear water, sprinkling it over the heads of the refugees.
With the clear water touching their bodies, the refugees all appeared revitalized, their pallid cheeks gaining a tinge of color, and life returning to their eyes.
"Amitabha Buddha."
One monk pressed a hand before him in prayer, reciting the Buddha’s name, then asked a refugee:
"Would you, benefactor, join our faith?"
"In our faith, you may experience prosperity and wealth in this life, and after death, proceed to Paradise, where your family can be reunited."
He persuaded gently:
"If you choose to join, the Shaoqing will offer you rice porridge."
"I am willing!" At the mention of ’rice porridge,’ the refugee’s eyes lit up with fervor, falling to their knees and repeatedly kowtowing:
"I am willing to join and believe in..."
"Mother of Non-Birth!" The monk interjected.
"Believe in Mother of Non-Birth!" The refugee nodded, asking:
"Master, where can I get the porridge?"
"Once you join our faith, you and I are brothers; do not address me as Master." The monk shook his head, gesturing behind him:
"The porridge is available there; please follow me!"
"Alright, alright."
The refugee complied, struggling to stand and trailing after the monk.
Inside the post station.
"Hmph!"
Someone snorted coldly:
"It’s merely a demon technique to stimulate others’ Qi and Blood. When that Holy Water is sprinkled, though it allows temporary revitalization, it depletes the body’s essence."
"A group of demon monks!"
"Yet, it’s better than waiting to die." Another person responded:
"Without these demon monks, as you call them, few outside would survive three days. If you’re capable, exhaust your wealth to save them."
"I wonder how many you can save?"
"What do you know?" The first speaker slammed the table, angered:
"These demon monks seduce hearts, recruit followers, and when they gain power, they will wreak havoc, leaving even more people suffering."
"Their current false compassion will lead to future schemes."
This person, not yet of old age and full of fervor, retorted with wide eyes and vigorous spirit, truly demonstrating concern for his country and people.
"People are near death; how can they care about such things?" Someone in a corner snorted disdainfully: