SS CH109

Xie Li followed Xue Chanyi, looking back at Ye Fusheng every three steps. Since Xue Chanyi needed to move to the left wing before sunset, she had to clear the way as quickly as possible.

Ye Fusheng only told Xie Li to pass a message to Duanheng not to worry, saying he wanted to familiarize himself with the routes and would return later. After watching the two leave, he withdrew his gaze. His fingers brushed over the depression in the tree bark before suddenly applying force, ripping off that small piece of bark entirely. It looked as if it had been torn away by a wild beast.

He dusted off his hands and, without lingering, headed toward the front courtyard.

It was already noon. The kitchen had long since lit fires to prepare vegetarian meals. The prominent families and sects, considering themselves superior, refused to eat in the same hall as the mixed crowd of common martial artists, demanding dedicated personnel deliver food boxes to their private rooms. The rest of the people gathered in the main dining hall to eat.

Ye Fusheng roughly crumpled his clothes, adding several creases to the previously neat garments, making them look worn and old. He then slightly ruffled his hair, transforming himself into a down-and-out wanderer. Shifting his expression to look much gloomier, he picked up a piece of charcoal and slightly darkened the corners of his eyebrows and eyes. Though his face wasn’t drastically changed, it now possessed a subtle unfamiliarity. He then blended into the crowd, carried a bowl of green vegetables and tofu, and shared a table with others.

Watching people animatedly converse and listening to their loud boasts, Ye Fusheng didn’t actively ask questions. Instead, he meticulously extracted information from the chaotic clamor. Occasionally tossing out a sentence or two that seemed like mere agreement, he subtly steered the direction of the conversation until he finally heard them discussing something useful.

At the next table, a man carrying a knife said to his companion, “I heard the people from the Qingfeng Sect left the mountain this morning.”

Ye Fusheng calmly took a spoonful of soup as another person replied, “It’s about time they left. They brought forty people in total, but over the past seven days of constant dueling, more than half have been severely injured. They have no chance of winning anything anymore. It’s better they just left cleanly.”

“I remember the Zhengyang Sect didn’t have any grudges with them. So why did they chop off the arm of the Qingfeng Sect’s senior disciple yesterday?”

“When the fighting gets intense, swords and sabers have no eyes. It’s just that his skills were inferior. Who else can he blame?” The man slammed his teacup down, his tone full of hostility. “If you ask me, Wuxiang Temple not forbidding martial duels is excellent. It prevents any random cat or dog from taking up seats at the assembly, causing trouble and wasting time. Those who know their limits should go back early and train for another two years, or else they can’t blame anyone if they lose an arm or a leg.”

Since everyone present was a martial artist, he hadn’t lowered his voice. The atmosphere in the dining hall instantly solidified. Some people continued eating their food and drinking their soup, but murderous intent had already begun to leak from their eyes.

Ye Fusheng slowly picked up a piece of tofu, feeling as though the entire hall was filled with wild beasts wearing human skin. No matter how he looked at it, they all possessed the vicious appearance of predators ready to devour someone.

With a loud smack, someone threw their chopsticks onto the table, picked up a sword, and strode over. He shouted at the man who had spoken so arrogantly, “Since Your Excellency has the guts to sprout such wild words, I wonder if you have the skills to back them up? I am Song Wei, an unworthy disciple of the Konghua Sect, and I’d like to ask for a lesson.”

Ye Fusheng glanced at the two. Song Wei was young, but his internal breath was not weak. The man who had spoken was older, with evenly callused hands—clearly a skilled knife user. If these two fought based purely on fundamental skills, the odds were even. But in terms of tactics and experience, the youth was likely going to suffer.

Ye Fusheng chewed his food meticulously. Even after the two men stepped outside, his gaze showed no sign of change. However, while he sat as immovably as a mountain, many people around them lost their composure. They either put down their bowls and called their friends or picked up their weapons with glaring eyes. In the blink of an eye, many people left the dining hall, leaving it suddenly quite empty.

Most of the monks and kitchen staff handing out meals seemed completely unfazed. Only a small portion showed disapproval, but ultimately said nothing. Chanting the Buddha’s name softly, they continued their tasks, maintaining an illusion of perfect order.

Ye Fusheng was still slowly chewing and swallowing his oily, unsalted green vegetables and tofu as if they were a rare delicacy, letting even a sip of soup slide down his throat slowly.

A monk nearby watched him with amusement. When he finally put down his chopsticks, the monk smiled and asked, “Is the Benefactor also a vegetarian?”

Ye Fusheng paused for a moment, then scratched his head, looking quite embarrassed. “J-just ordinary. It’s just that I was hungry and thirsty from traveling so much, and the temple’s vegetarian meals are no inferior to meat and wine, so I couldn’t resist indulging my appetite. M-many thanks to the Master for the hospitality.”

The monk pressed his palms together and said, “The kitchen is short-handed. Fortunately, the temple supervisor hired new cooks early on for this assembly. It is wonderful that it suits the Benefactor’s taste; I dare not accept your thanks.”

Other monks nearby sized Ye Fusheng up a few times, but seeing only the appearance of an honest, reckless fool with nothing out of the ordinary, they withdrew their gazes.

Ye Fusheng chatted casually for a few more sentences before following the remaining people out of the dining hall. He could feel strange gazes closely following him, but he simply relaxed his body, pretending to be completely oblivious, and casually disappeared into the crowd.

Not far from the dining hall was the martial arts plaza. Ye Fusheng originally intended to check the situation there, but seeing a person approaching on the corridor heading toward the dining hall, he shifted his steps, brushing past them and whispering, “Wait for me at Cixin Lake. Come quickly afterwards.”

That person was Xuan Su. He had been walking hurriedly and didn’t expect to run into Ye Fusheng here. Although the other didn’t turn around, his voice was recognizable. Xuan Su whispered a reply, not foolish enough to stop and change expression, and continued toward the dining hall.

Cixin Lake, located not far behind the Guanyin Hall, was a secluded place rarely visited by people. Ye Fusheng arrived first, ensured there were no idlers around, found a large tree, flipped up into it, and hid among the branches and leaves, keeping his eyes and ears wide open.

Xuan Su didn’t make him wait long, arriving shortly after. Ye Fusheng plucked a leaf and threw it down, brushing right past his cheek. When Xuan Su looked up along the trajectory, he saw a hand reach out from the foliage, crooking a finger at him.

Only after Xuan Su flipped up into the tree did Ye Fusheng see he was holding an oil-paper package. He smiled. “Hungry?”

Xuan Su nodded. “I just accompanied Martial Uncle to pay respects to Abbot Sejian. Martial Uncle stayed in the Yunshui Hall to discuss scriptures and Daoism with the Abbot and told me to leave first. The temple’s meals were delivered to the left wing, but it’s quite a detour from the quiet room, so I simply went to the dining hall. I didn’t expect to run into you.”

Ye Fusheng unwrapped the paper. In his rush to meet him, Xuan Su had only grabbed a steamed bun and two pieces of bean cake. Ye Fusheng pinched a piece of bean cake, tasted it, then handed the steamed bun to Xuan Su, crumbling the remaining bean cake into tiny pieces. “Eat the bun first to fill your stomach. You can keep the bean cake for now.”

Xuan Su, who had just taken a bite of the bun, paused and looked up. “Is there something wrong with the bean cake?”

Ye Fusheng pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands. “Earlier in the dining hall, I picked three dishes and a soup and ate them all carefully. I found that aside from the millet rice and steamed buns, everything else was laced with drugs.”

Xuan Su’s expression changed dramatically. Forgetting the bun, he reached out to check his pulse. “Then why did you eat them?”

“If I didn’t test them, how would I know exactly what the problem was?” Ye Fusheng avoided his hand. “You don’t need to panic. If I dared to eat it, I naturally have the confidence to handle it. Besides, this drug isn’t a lethal poison; it doesn’t harm life. It simply stimulates the circulation of qi and blood in martial artists. Once catalyzed by internal energy, it easily breeds manic and irritable emotions.”

Though Xuan Su hadn’t seen much of the world, his mind was sharp. Turning his thoughts over, his eyes went cold. “Over the past seven days, before the martial arts assembly has even officially begun, there have already been numerous duels and conflicts among the attendees, with no shortage of severe injuries.”

“The mastermind behind the scenes is quite clever. Instead of stabbing people with knives, they make people harm themselves.” Ye Fusheng wrapped up the crumbled bean cake and handed it to him. “To be able to send people to infiltrate the kitchen and tamper with the food, scatter hidden agents among the various sects to provoke conflicts at the right moments, and even plant spies within Wuxiang Temple to coordinate from the inside out—I must say, they have excellent skills.”

Xuan Su’s voice turned icy. “I’m afraid there aren’t many people in the Jianghu with such capability, and even fewer who can cover the sky with one hand to this extent.”

“It seems you and I have reached the same conclusion. But a guess is just a guess. Without proof, acting rashly will only alert the enemy.” Ye Fusheng pulled up one leg and rested his chin on his knee. “Speaking of which, having met Abbot Sejian today, what was your impression?”

Xuan Su was simple-natured and spoke straightforwardly: “Seeing is not as good as hearing.”

Abbot Sejian was an elderly monk in his sixties. Though he didn’t possess the renowned title of “Western Buddha” like his shidi Sekong, he was still a famously eminent monk. He was exceptionally well-versed in Zen philosophy and Buddhist teachings, his martial arts attainments were matched by few, and his compassionate nature earned him immense respect and prestige in the martial world. Given Xuan Su’s status and personality, he shouldn’t have given such an evaluation.

Ye Fusheng raised an eyebrow. “I’d like to hear the details.”

Xuan Su replied, “Because of our deductions from the letter earlier, Martial Uncle intentionally brought up past events. Though the Abbot answered fluently, problems arose when the topic shifted to Zen scriptures and Daoist principles. Although his counter-arguments were reasonable, they revealed a worldly competitiveness. His explanations of the scriptures were easily spoken but lacked flexible adaptation. If such a person were Western Buddha Shixiong, the Abbot of Wuxiang, I fear Wuxiang Temple would soon become a thing of the past.”

Ye Fusheng hit the nail on the head: “So you suspect he is a fake?”

While substituting one person for another is a good strategy, perfectly mimicking someone requires immense time and effort. Especially for an eminent monk like Sejian, aside from understanding his behavior, his profound knowledge of scriptures poses a massive challenge. Cultivators of the Dao understand the nature of the mind; cultivators of Buddhism comprehend Zen philosophy. Enduring cold winters and hot summers, year after year—this is not achieved in a single day.

Therefore, Xuan Su asked in return, “Should I not?”

“But if you can see these problems, wouldn’t Martial Uncle Duanheng understand them too? If he truly is fake, why would he keep Martial Uncle Duanheng in the Yunshui Hall to continue discussing Daoism?” Ye Fusheng smiled. “When judging people and observing events, you cannot remain on the surface. Yunshu, you look very closely, but not deeply enough.”

Xuan Su’s mind raced. “Are you saying… Abbot Sejian deliberately exposed these flaws to warn me and Martial Uncle Duanheng? And keeping Martial Uncle in the Yunshui Hall is also to secretly pass on a message?”

Ye Fusheng asked, “When you met the Abbot, were there outsiders present?”

Xuan Su replied, “The Temple Supervisor, Master Seruo, was also present. He originally intended to leave with me, but the Abbot kept him behind to discuss Zen philosophy.”

The corners of Ye Fusheng’s mouth curled up. “In that case, we can’t afford to be lazy.”

Xuan Su froze for a moment before Ye Fusheng continued, “Abbot Sejian finally used Martial Uncle’s arrival to stall the hidden spy for us. How can we miss such a golden opportunity?”

Abbot Sejian keeping Duanheng to discuss Daoism was a pretext, and secretly passing messages was secondary. His true target was Master Seruo, whom he forcibly kept behind.

Infiltrating Wuxiang Temple is no easy task, so the hidden spy couldn’t possibly be a lowly sweeping monk. They had to hold significant power to open the doors of convenience for the mastermind behind the scenes. And compared to Abbot Sejian, who focused on comprehending Zen and worshiping Buddha, Temple Supervisor Seruo, who constantly managed worldly affairs, was much easier to control. Because he held the power over Wuxiang Temple’s affairs, he could systematically plant spies one by one, and even catch Abbot Sejian off guard to control him.

To avoid complications, they likely never intended to genuinely invite the Taishang Palace from the start. However, Abbot Sejian noticed the sudden change and deliberately altered his handwriting when writing the invitation, using this subtle method to send a warning.

Duanheng’s arrival was the turning point that broke the stalemate. Seruo had intended to monitor Abbot Sejian as he continued playing the puppet, but he never expected the Abbot to use Duanheng to turn the tables, trapping him in the Yunshui Hall.

“The Abbot’s arrangement of that letter was highly secretive, proving that either Hengming or Hengyuan must be colluding with Seruo.” Xuan Su’s brain worked rapidly. “Now that Seruo is trapped, the person who receives the news will definitely go to alter the deployments. This is our chance to follow the vine and find the melon!”

Ye Fusheng wiped away the black marks he had drawn on the corners of his eyebrows with the charcoal and smiled. “I’ve already secretly inquired. Hengming is currently at the mountain gate helping the guest-greeting monks receive people, while Hengyuan has returned to his room to rest.”

Pausing, Ye Fusheng looked up at the sky. “It is overcast today, and the mountain forest hides tracks. It is truly a perfect time to walk in the shadows.”