Chapter 82: The Mystery (Part Two)

At this point in the story, there was originally a rather explicit scene involving Sun Tai and the female corpse, but following the editor’s advice, this section was revised. Still, with that scene removed, something seems missing—it feels as though the connection between earlier and later events hasn’t been fully clarified. I hope readers can use their imagination to fill in the gaps.

“Who is she?” Zhang Chi suddenly asked, pointing at the corpse.

“And who are you, to dare address the Master in this manner?” The man to Sun Tai’s left, sporting two thin mustaches and dressed in a Daoist robe, was someone Zhang Chi hadn’t met before. But the moment he spoke, Zhang Chi recognized his voice—it was Sun En, who had conspired with Sun Tai at the sacred site of Mount Kuaiji to attack Shanyin.

“Me?” Zhang Chi was momentarily taken aback. He certainly wouldn’t reveal his true identity. Regaining his composure, he replied with righteous confidence, “I am but a ghostly guard.”

“If you are a ghostly guard, do you not know that the Master is a saint of our Daoist order? How dare you speak to him in such a way?”

Zhang Chi had never been afraid of a quarrel, especially when he had come here with the express purpose of capturing or killing Sun Tai. He stood his ground: “Under heaven, there is no saint, no commoner! In the eyes of the Dao, all things are equal. Our Daoist teaching holds that heaven and earth are as a single steed, all things as a single finger—what difference is there between Master and ghostly guard?”

Having read the works of Laozi and Zhuangzi, Zhang Chi was drawing on the Daoist doctrine of the equality of all beings. The followers of the Five Peck Rice Dao were mostly refugees, with no one truly versed in the Daoist classics—not to mention the works of Laozi and Zhuangzi. So, for a moment, Sun En was at a loss for words.

Sun Tai, however, paid Zhang Chi no heed. His gaze remained fixed on the Wine Maiden, and he asked her with deep emotion, “Are you Qinru?”

“Qinru? Is that my name?” Now that the matter concerned her directly, the Wine Maiden could not help but care. She was already deeply shocked—for as long as she could remember, her parents had died, leaving only herself and her younger sister to wander destitute in Jiangdong. Later, her sister too had starved to death. Could there be a hidden secret to her origins?

“Twenty years…” Sun Tai seemed suddenly lost in thought. He reached out as if to caress the Wine Maiden’s face, only to find his hand grasping nothing but air; there was still a distance between them. Stumbling, he began to move toward her.

Zhang Chi would not let such an opportunity slip by. He caught Dao Xuan’s eye, and Dao Xuan nodded slightly, understanding his intent. They would wait until Sun Tai drew close and then seize him in one stroke; everything else could be dealt with after capturing Sun Tai.

Unlike the usual ghostly guards of the Five Peck Rice Dao, Zhang Chi was well-versed in Daoist doctrine. The Five Peck Rice Dao followers, being refugees, had little to no knowledge of the true classics. The sect’s own texts, though borrowing the names of Laozi and Zhuangzi, had long since been altered beyond recognition, serving merely as self-justifying propaganda.

Yan Yicao, of course, had already noticed this. Sun Tai had barely taken two steps before Yan Yicao swiftly shifted to stand in his way.

“Master, please wait. Though she may be called the Saintess,” Yan Yicao said, pointing at Zhang Chi, “this person is suspicious. You must not approach recklessly.”

Yan Yicao’s martial arts were formidable, as Zhang Chi and Dao Xuan had witnessed when he drove off Abbot Shouyin before the Rainmist Pavilion. Dao Xuan, therefore, dared not act rashly.

Dao Xuan was well aware that, though his own martial arts were strong, the others were not. They were now deep within the Five Peck Rice Dao army; if he failed to seize Sun Tai in one move, the consequences would be dire. He was waiting for the perfect moment.

“Since the Saintess has returned to the faith, please step over here,” Yan Yicao said. Though he addressed the Wine Maiden, his cold gaze never left Zhang Chi.

The Wine Maiden, usually so quiet, did not move. She suddenly asked, “I am not the Saintess at all—who am I, really?”

Then, pointing to the corpse on the stone platform, she asked, “And who is she?”

The nearby followers of the Five Peck Rice Dao, who had gathered not far away, were thrown into an uproar at her words.

Zhang Chi had just killed the burly man, and among the soldiers under that man’s command, one now shouted, “It’s this man, relying on a false Saintess, who killed in front of the mountain and rescued these women, denying us a good meal—he must have ulterior motives!”

“If you admit to impersonating the Saintess, what more is there to say?” Yan Yicao sneered coldly. “Men, kill them all and prepare them for supper.”

“Don’t harm my Qinru,” murmured Sun Tai.

“Master, this is not the Holy Mother,” Sun En said with a sigh. “The Holy Mother has been dead nearly twenty years.”

Sun Tai, upon hearing this, slumped in despair, tears streaming down his face in moments. “Twenty years… Qinru has been dead for twenty years.”

He then walked to the corpse, gently caressing its cheek. “Qinru, it’s been almost twenty years, and yet you remain as beautiful as ever. Do not worry—once I unravel the secret of immortality, I will bring you back to life.”

Sun Tai’s display shocked Zhang Chi. He had heard of the so-called art of immortality once before—was it not what Abbot Shouyin had sought from Sun Tai before the Rainmist Pavilion? Could such a secret art exist, one that could restore life to the dead?

Yan Yicao, seeing Sun Tai lost in his memories, quickly shouted, “Ghostly guards! What are you waiting for? Hack them all to pieces!”

Dao Xuan’s heart sank—if he didn’t act now, there would be no more chances. Only by capturing Sun Tai could they break free. In a flash, he lunged at Sun Tai.

Yan Yicao did not expect Dao Xuan to attack so suddenly, but he was quick to react, leaping to block Dao Xuan’s path. In an instant, the two exchanged a fierce blow.

Their martial skills were evenly matched; both staggered back a step, neither gaining the upper hand.

The squad of ghostly guards who had watched Dao Xuan slay the burly man like an angry demon dared not approach. Yet the women Zhang Chi had just rescued were not so lucky. The guards, unwilling to cross blades with the strong, turned their weapons on the weak, raising their blades and spears as they advanced on the defenseless women.

“Do not harm innocent people! How are you any different from the noble clans who feast on the flesh and blood of the people? If you have any courage, come for me!” Zhang Chi shouted.

His cry could not stop the ravenous guards, but it did stir the conscience of those watching nearby.

Zhang Chi’s earlier impassioned words had left a deep impression on these people, and now, as if the living dead had suddenly been called back to life by his shout, some remembered their humanity. “Yes, we must not harm innocent lives!”

Quite a few stepped forward of their own accord, surrounding the guards intent on slaughtering the defenseless women.

“Are you rebelling?” Sun En thundered, furious that these refugees dared defy orders.

Though the Five Peck Rice Dao boasted great numbers, its followers were scattered about the mountaintop, busy with their own campfires and meals. Discipline and organization were lacking, and only a handful were present on the summit. Seeing the unrest, Sun En looked around, hoping to summon a nearby detachment to restore order. But at that moment, a figure came tumbling toward them, shouting in panic, “Master! High Priest! Disaster! The imperial army is upon us!”

“So soon?” Sun En was shocked; he had never expected the imperial forces to arrive so quickly—he had thought he would have at least the time it took to prepare a meal. Disbelieving, he climbed to a high vantage and gazed into the distance.

The sight chilled him to the bone. Though dusk was falling, he could see smoke and dust rising from all directions. As far as his eyes could see, countless cavalry were charging toward the mountain.

Smoke billowed on all sides—clearly, large cavalry units were racing toward them. Had the imperial army, under cover of night, already encircled their mountaintop position?