Chapter 28
The northern district wasn’t large.
After a night of fermentation, the news that reciting a Buddhist story could earn a candy had spread throughout the area. The stories were short, some only a few dozen characters long, others just over a hundred. They weren’t difficult to memorize.
So, many people who lived difficult lives were willing to recite them for the reward.
Heng Yu said to Liaowu privately, “The Buddhist stories are slowly spreading. Next, we need to think about how to convert them into Buddhist believers.”
Spreading the stories was a means to an end.
Converting people to Buddhism was their ultimate goal.
By mid-morning, the candies and pastries in Heng Yu and Liaowu’s storage rings were almost gone.
And the people’s enthusiasm for reciting seemed to have just been ignited.
Liaowu and Liaonian were surrounded by people.
Liaonian, rarely experiencing such a scene, was overwhelmed.
In contrast, Liaowu, despite being in a noisy environment, seemed to have a calming effect on the people around him. They unconsciously lowered their voices when near him.
Since the two monks were busy, Heng Yu, holding her sword, was the most idle person.
She smiled and transmitted her voice to Liaowu. “I’ll go to the nearby grocery store and buy more candy.”
“Thank you, Lord Luo,” Liaowu replied.
“Do you think I’m particularly kind and feel very grateful to me?”
Heng Yu, bored, teased him.
“Whatever Lord Luo says.”
Heng Yu smiled contentedly and walked towards the market.
After buying candies and preserved fruits, Heng Yu ran into Zhou Chuang.
Zhou Chuang was walking with a young man in Daoist robes who had a refined air.
His tone was polite and humble, despite having a similar cultivation level as the other man.
Heng Yu’s gaze swept past Zhou Chuang and landed on the young man.
She didn’t care about Zhou Chuang’s strength, but she sensed a hint of danger from this man.
As Heng Yu noticed them, they also noticed her.
Zhou Chuang’s expression immediately turned cold. “So it’s Fellow Daoist Luo.”
“With the restaurant storyteller spreading Daoist teachings for you, Fellow Daoist Zhou seems to have a lot of free time,” Heng Yu said indifferently.
Her words were like needles to Zhou Chuang’s ears.
Wasn’t she implying that he was neglecting his duties, relying on others to spread Daoist teachings?
Sensing the sarcasm in her words, Zhou Chuang didn’t have time to argue with her. “Daoist Dao, this—” He stopped mid-sentence and addressed the man beside him. “Daoist Dao, please don’t listen to her one-sided words.”
Daoist Dao?
This young man’s surname was Dao?
Combined with his Daoist robes, Heng Yu guessed his identity.
A member of the Dao Sect, and probably a descendant of the Dao Sect Leader’s family.
The young man looked at Heng Yu and bowed with a Daoist gesture. “Dao Zhuo of the Dao Sect. May I ask who this Fellow Daoist is?”
“Luo Heng Yu of the Hehuan Sect.” After returning the gesture, Heng Yu raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect the Dao Sect Leader’s direct disciple to be in Ping City.”
She remembered him because he was the Dao Sect Leader’s carefully nurtured closed-door disciple.
And — he was Mu Huan’s target.
If Dao Zhuo was in Ping City, Mu Huan should be here as well.
As if on cue, Heng Yu smelled a faint fragrance of Hehuan flowers.
At the same time, a sharp gust of wind, carrying the same fragrance, struck her face.
She dodged swiftly, catching the leaf that had been flung at her between two fingers.
“Lord Mu has a rather unique way of greeting people,” Heng Yu chuckled softly.
Mu Huan, dressed in a light yellow dress, jumped down from the second floor of the restaurant.
Her attire was as revealing as ever, the long dress accentuating her figure and long legs.
After landing, Mu Huan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled faintly.
“Lord Luo, it’s been a few months. I’ve missed you dearly.”
“Did you miss me, or did you miss Buddha-son Liaowu?”
Hearing Heng Yu’s words, Dao Zhuo, who had been standing quietly with his head lowered, suddenly looked up at Mu Huan.
Then he quickly looked away.
Noticing his gaze, Mu Huan couldn’t help but giggle. “Of course, I missed Lord Luo more.”
Heng Yu also noticed Dao Zhuo’s look.
She sighed inwardly: Mu Huan was quite efficient. At least for now, it seemed Dao Zhuo was somewhat interested in her.
“Although your words are insincere, they’re still pleasing to hear,” Heng Yu chuckled softly, infused the leaf in her hand with spiritual energy, and flicked it towards Mu Huan’s face with lightning speed.
Mu Huan’s eyes narrowed, and she barely dodged.
“A gift in return. Farewell.” Heng Yu turned and left, holding her sword.
Mu Huan stamped her foot.
She glared at Heng Yu’s retreating figure, then at Dao Zhuo, and said angrily, “You fool, didn’t you see her bullying me?”
Dao Zhuo ignored her and asked Zhou Chuang, “Fellow Daoist Zhou, how did this wager involve Lord Luo?”
When Heng Yu returned to the arched bridge, munching on an apple, the area had quieted down.
Only an elderly man stood beside Liaowu.
The old man’s face was weathered, his hands calloused and scarred, bearing the marks of a hard life.
As Heng Yu approached, she heard the old man ask, “In the Buddhist stories Master told, good and evil will eventually be rewarded. But my wife and I have been kind all our lives. Why did our only child suffer such misfortune? Why is life so unfair to us? Will this suffering only end when I die?”
His voice was filled with sorrow and resentment towards life, hinting at suicidal thoughts.
The overwhelming negativity made Liaowu sigh softly.
He looked at the old man gently.
He hadn’t said anything, but under his compassionate and understanding gaze, tears welled up in the old man’s eyes.
Finally, he lowered his head and covered his face, sobbing uncontrollably.
Liaowu joined his hands together. “Amitabha.”
He lowered his gaze, thinking about how to comfort the weeping old man.
He had no experience in this.
Heng Yu noticed his slight awkwardness beneath his calm exterior.
This subtle awkwardness, only perceptible to her, brought a smile to her eyes.
—He was truly adorable.
“Just listen to him,” Heng Yu transmitted her voice.
Liaowu finally noticed her return.
He looked back at her questioningly.
Heng Yu smiled faintly. “If you don’t know how to comfort him, if you can’t empathize, then just listen.”
Hearing this, understanding dawned on Liaowu’s face.
This was how she had handled Man Xue’er’s situation. He had been too focused on finding a solution.
Liaowu looked back at the old man. “Benefactor, if you have any troubles, you can tell this poor monk.”
He gestured for the old man to sit down.
The old man sat down and looked at the elegant young monk.
From youth to old age, he had faced countless hardships. But with his beloved wife bedridden, he couldn’t share his pain with her, lest he worsen her condition. He could only bear it all silently.
Over time, he had become more and more withdrawn.
Now, hearing Liaowu’s words and smelling the calming sandalwood scent emanating from him, the old man’s suppressed desire to confide finally erupted.
He opened his mouth.
And once he started speaking, the words flowed out naturally.
By the end, he was almost sobbing uncontrollably.
Liaowu listened with his head lowered.
He turned his prayer beads and silently chanted the “Heart Sutra” for the old man.
Whether it was the effect of confiding or the calming effect of the sutra, the old man’s tears gradually subsided.
“Have some water,” Heng Yu offered him a cup of warm water.
The old man looked up, seeing the goddess-like woman offering him water, and quickly accepted it with trembling hands. “Thank you, Miss. You’re too kind.”
“You’re welcome,” Heng Yu smiled softly.
Taking the cup, the old man realized the water was warm.
It was November or December, and warm water was easier to swallow.
As he slowly drank, he tasted a faint sweetness — sugar had been dissolved in the water.
The sweetness brought tears to his eyes again.
Liaowu stood nearby, quietly watching this scene.
After the old man finished the water, he said softly, “Amitabha. From what you’ve told me, your wife and child are both bedridden? If you don’t mind, when it gets darker, this poor monk will visit and check their pulses. Perhaps their conditions can be improved with some treatment.”
The old man’s eyes lit up with surprise. “This… this is too much trouble for Master. Are you sure?”
“My Buddha is compassionate,” Liaowu sighed softly.
“Buddha is compassionate, indeed, truly compassionate,” the old man’s face showed joy.
He stood up and repeatedly bowed to Liaowu and Heng Yu in thanks.
“There’s no need for that, old man.”
Liaowu stepped forward and gently but firmly supported him, preventing him from bowing further.
“It’s my duty, my duty,” the old man said.
When it got darker, Liaowu left Liaonian to wait and went with Heng Yu to the old man’s house to examine his wife and child, prescribing medicine and treatment.
To avoid burdening the family further, Liaowu specifically chose herbs he already had in his storage ring. After writing the prescription, he gave the medicine to the family directly.
This thoughtful kindness made the old man thank them profusely again.
After leaving the old man’s house and walking a few steps, nearing the corner of the alley, Heng Yu suddenly said to Liaowu, “Look back.”
Liaowu turned around.
He saw the old man still standing at his door, watching them.
Noticing that he had turned around, the old man waved more vigorously.
In this moment, Liaowu seemed to see a frail and helpless soul rekindling the flame of hope.
He smiled softly.
After a moment, he looked at Heng Yu.
“When this poor monk first met Lord Luo, you said I didn’t understand the sufferings of sentient beings.”
“Indeed, I didn’t understand at that time, nor did I understand the meaning of delivering all sentient beings. Now, thinking back, although I still can’t fully comprehend the many sufferings of sentient beings, I think I’ve found some understanding of the meaning of delivering them.”
Heng Yu met his gaze and smiled softly. “Should I congratulate you now?”
She saw a vendor selling sweet soup and her eyes lit up. “Wait a moment.”
She ran over, bought two bowls of sweet soup, and returned to Liaowu.
“This is for you.”
Liaowu was stunned, then accepted the bowl. “Is this a reward?”
Heng Yu snapped her fingers. “After learning something new, one should be rewarded. This way, you’ll be motivated to learn more.”
Liaowu chuckled.
He felt as if she was treating him like a child.
He took a sip of the sweet soup.
It was sweet but not greasy.
He liked this reward very much.
Glancing at Heng Yu, he suppressed his thoughts.
After finishing the sweet soup, Heng Yu returned the bowls to the vendor.
They continued walking back to the arched bridge.
After meeting up with Liaonian, the three of them walked back to the restaurant.
Before entering, Heng Yu sensed Mu Huan’s aura.
Mu Huan and Dao Zhuo were sitting in a corner on the first floor, drinking tea and eating pastries.
Mu Huan took a bite of a pastry and was about to say something to Dao Zhuo when she suddenly looked towards the entrance.
“What’s wrong?” Dao Zhuo asked.
Mu Huan’s gaze was fixed on Liaowu, who was entering the restaurant in his monk robes.
Her eyes lit up, and her smile became more seductive.
“I saw someone I know.”
Mu Huan explained and stood up to greet Heng Yu… and Liaowu, who was beside her.
“It’s been two years. Buddha-son, you look even more radiant than before.”
Mu Huan bowed gracefully as she approached Liaowu, her curvaceous figure accentuated by her movements. After bowing, she looked up at Liaowu expectantly, hoping he would recognize her.
Heng Yu smiled, stroking the hilt of her sword.
She felt that whatever Mu Huan was planning, she would be disappointed.
Liaowu didn’t disappoint her.
His gaze swept past Mu Huan’s face, politely looking away. “This poor monk doesn’t recognize this Fellow Daoist.”
“You don’t recognize me? This truly saddens me.”
Mu Huan’s face was filled with disappointment.
If an ordinary man saw this, he would surely feel sorry for her.
But Liaowu didn’t even look at her properly.
He replied, his voice slightly puzzled, “Amitabha, this poor monk has met many people. It’s normal not to recognize everyone.”
Heng Yu, who had been listening, couldn’t help but chuckle.
—Good. She liked Liaowu’s bluntness.
Now Mu Huan was truly speechless.
Since this Buddha-son was unapproachable, Mu Huan turned her attention to Heng Yu. “What are you laughing at, Lord Luo?”
“Laughing at your arrogance,” Heng Yu said indifferently, her lips curving into a smile.
Before Mu Huan could speak again, Heng Yu looked at Dao Zhuo behind her. “Lord Mu is so focused on my mission target. Aren’t you afraid of hurting Daoist Dao’s feelings?”
The words “mission target” made Liaowu start turning his prayer beads.
Dao Zhuo, who had been standing quietly behind Mu Huan, cupped his hands towards Heng Yu.
He didn’t look at Mu Huan and said calmly, “Excuse me.”
He turned and went upstairs.
Mu Huan bit her lip, hesitated between her inner sect mission and Liaowu, then quickly followed Dao Zhuo.
Heng Yu didn’t pay them any more attention.
She looked at Liaowu. “Shall we have dinner in the main hall?”
“Alright,” Liaowu nodded.
After dinner, the three of them went upstairs to rest.
Heng Yu stood at the table, practicing calligraphy. After a while, she put down her brush and pondered the reason for Dao Zhuo and Mu Huan’s appearance here.
She and Liaowu had come to Ping City from the Undying Sect’s territory for the wager.
What about Dao Zhuo and Mu Huan?
Ping City was quite far from the Dao Sect. It would take almost a month to travel here by sword.
After thinking for a long time, Heng Yu couldn’t figure it out and put the question aside for now.
It started raining in the middle of the night.
Heng Yu, meditating cross-legged, opened her eyes at the sound of the rain. As she stood up to close the window, she noticed a figure in kasaya flitting past in the distance.
But when she looked again, she saw nothing.
“Kasaya?”
“Besides Liaowu and Liaonian, are there other Buddhist cultivators in Ping City?”
For some reason, looking at the rain blowing into her room, Heng Yu had a premonition of impending trouble.
In the morning, the rain stopped. The three of them went to the arched bridge in the north of the city again.
Perhaps due to the old man’s promotion, the people who gathered around Liaowu today not only recited Buddhist stories but also asked him questions and sought his advice.
Some even asked him to treat their families.
…
Liaowu was surrounded by people all day.
Even Heng Yu, sitting nearby, felt her ears ringing from the noise.
But Liaowu remained calm, seemingly accustomed to this.
“Quite lively,” a voice suddenly said from above the bridge.
Heng Yu, chewing on a piece of foxtail grass, looked up and saw Mu Huan, Dao Zhuo, and Zhou Chuang standing on the bridge.
Heng Yu said indifferently, “Quite a gathering.”
Mu Huan smiled. “Lord Luo isn’t welcoming?”
Heng Yu shrugged. “This isn’t my territory. You can come whether I welcome you or not.”
Mu Huan flicked her sleeve.
The next moment, she stood before Heng Yu. “I truly envy Lord Luo.”
“Envy what? Envy that I accepted the mission to pursue the Buddha-son?” Heng Yu yawned lazily. “Aren’t you afraid of failing your own inner sect mission by openly expressing your interest in him?”
Mu Huan covered her mouth and giggled. “Well, there’s nothing I can do. I want that fool to like the real me.”
Heng Yu didn’t believe her.
But she had to admit, Mu Huan’s confidence was astounding.
Heng Yu leaned closer and asked, “For the sake of our shared sect, could Lord Mu tell me why you’re in Ping City?”
Mu Huan glanced at her and, to Heng Yu’s surprise, didn’t hide anything. “We’re here to investigate something.”
“Investigate what?”
“Three inner disciples of the Dao Sect were harmed by a dual cultivation technique that absorbs yang energy to supplement yin energy, turning them into cripples. And this technique originated from our sect.”
Heng Yu narrowed her eyes slightly.
—Although the Hehuan Sect was a demonic sect, their cultivation techniques were mutually beneficial for both men and women. This kind of technique that only benefited one party had been forbidden thousands of years ago.
Heng Yu asked, “Is that person a disciple of our sect?”
“Very likely,” Mu Huan twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I was looking for an excuse to approach Dao Zhuo, so when I heard this news, I volunteered to clean up the mess for our sect.”
“Because that female cultivator was marked by a Dao Sect tracking spell, we haven’t lost her trail. The tracking spell indicates she’s in Ping City.”
Heng Yu frowned. “If you need any help with this matter, just ask.”
Mu Huan looked at her in surprise. “…Alright. The more help, the better.”
As they whispered to each other, Dao Zhuo and Zhou Chuang also walked over.
Seeing the crowd surrounding Liaowu, a look of surprise flashed across Zhou Chuang’s face, and he felt a sense of crisis.
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