During the Jiaping season, the world was locked in ice and freezing cold. Wrapped in silver and draped in white, snow fell densely and heavily.
Halfway up the mountain, corpses littered the entire landscape. Patches of mottled blood haphazardly mixed with snowflakes could be seen everywhere, standing out from afar like blooming red spider lilies.
Above the mountain villa’s plaque, a severed head hung high, swaying gently in the wind.
The visual impact was overwhelmingly intense.
Ominous, dead silent, and desolate.
From afar, it looked chillingly like a dark, huddled puppet.
“My lord, why leave a single survivor? Aren’t you afraid of him seeking revenge in the future?” a Jinyiwei (Embroidered Uniform Guard) asked with a curious expression, staring at the half-dead, breathing-his-last man sprawled on the ground.
The man seated atop a fine steed wore a black crane-feather cloak and a pale purple python robe. The Xiuchun saber at his waist was engraved with intricate, complex patterns.
A group of Jinyiwei surrounded him, led precisely by Pei Yaoguang.
“If we kill them all, how boring would that be?”
“This Directorate simply wants to watch people look desperate, helpless, and filled with hatred.”
Frost covered Pei Yaoguang’s long eyelashes, his eyes sharp as a falcon’s. His cold, unfeeling face carried not a trace of emotion resembling a chilling venomous snake radiating an aura of lethal dread that made anyone who caught a glimpse of him too terrified to dare a second look.
He twirled the dark jade thumb ring on his thumb. The gold-trimmed, pale purple floating-cloud patterns on his sleeve cuffs gleamed brilliantly.
Death was merely a quick release from all suffering.
Eccentric in temperament and unpredictable in action, coupled with his background as a maternal relative of the imperial family, all the ministers in the imperial court held him in absolute awe and terror.
At age eight, Pei Yaoguang’s father recommended him to the emperor to be sent as a political hostage to a rival state.
At age fourteen, after enduring every humiliation and biding his time through thick and thin, he learned upon his return to the capital that his mother had died of poisoning.
Ever since, he diligently practiced martial arts, forced his way into the Commandery Guard, and even self-castrated without a second thought.
At age twenty, he was bestowed the title of Commander for his merit in rescuing the sovereign, gaining supreme authority that shook both the court and the country.
Now, he was only twenty-one years old.
A cluster of accumulated snow slipped from a tree branch.
Creeak,
The branch snapped and split, swaying back and forth in the wind. The fallen snow landed like light, fluttering goose feathers, settling instantly.
A shrewd glint flashed through Pei Yaoguang’s eyes. “Go gouge out his eyes so we can use them as medicine ingredients for the old granny at the foot of the mountain.”
The Jinyiwei looked momentarily stunned.
Accompanied by a miserable shriek, a gushing stream of red gathered along the sword’s blade, condensing into droplets that fell to the ground, gradually soaking through the layer of frost.
Extremely vivid crimson.
A shrill scream pierced the air, while Pei Yaoguang’s eyes emitted several flashes of icy light, cold as millennial unmelting ice.
The Jinyiwei respectfully presented a black sandalwood box containing the eyeballs and chuckled ingratiatingly, “May I ask, My Lord, what relation is that old granny at the bottom of the mountain to you?”
“I don’t know her at all.” Pei Yaoguang wore a half-smiling, unruly expression that carried a hint of leisurely amusement.
“Then why does My Lord repeatedly help her?”
In the next instant, Pei Yaoguang’s gaze turned abruptly fierce. His Xiuchun saber reflected dazzling arcs of cold light, and before the guard could even react, his throat was cleanly slit with a single slash.
“This Directorate despises talkative people the most.”
Pei Yaoguang’s sharp, aloof face made people reluctant to let their gaze linger on him for even a fraction longer. His eyes were like black chess pieces in a freezing pool, his fan-like eyelashes fluttering slightly as scattered snowflakes drifted down to cloak his sword-like brows.
Fickle by nature, whenever he wanted to do something, he required no reason whatsoever.
The glazed, unfocused pupils of the dead guard still held an indescribable resentment. Even though these men had weathered countless storms, a chill involuntarily crept up the depths of their spines.
Pei Yaoguang narrowed his eyes, walked up to the corpse, and brutally sliced open his abdomen to rip out the heart—also intended for medicine ingredients. Crimson blood splattered everywhere, splashing across his face.
He handled the gory task expressionlessly, as effortlessly as if he were butchering a chicken.
Once finished, Pei Yaoguang raised a hand, and another Jinyiwei hurriedly handed over a clean white cloth.
Accustomed as he was to bloody atrocities, he wiped away the bloodstains from his face without blinking an eye.
Afterward, Pei Yaoguang leaped back onto his horse, and the procession marched majestically forward.
The sound of crunching snow echoed continuously, leaving countless silvery-white footprints on the pristine ground.
Arriving at the foot of the mountain, Pei Yaoguang dismounted and walked toward the thatched cottage ahead, carrying a cloth bundle.
The person who opened the door was the granny herself. Stooped with age, the corners of her mouth turned up, deepening the wrinkles on her face.
“Your Honor is truly a great benefactor, always looking out for an old woman like me.”
This was the final ingredient Pei Yaoguang had gathered for her, which would immediately cure her critically ill husband.
The old granny’s eyes were already brimming with tears. Even the group of Jinyiwei could never have imagined that this cruel, ruthless eunuch would show pity toward a helpless old woman.
Carried to anyone’s ears, it would sound utterly absurd and astonishing.
Who could have guessed that the old granny and her husband would ultimately meet a tragic death at the hands of Pei Yaoguang himself!
He was rotten to the core! Applying every evil descriptor in the world to him would scarcely be an exaggeration.
He loved playing with human nature to derive pleasure from it.
Especially witnessing the psychological discrepancy in people caught between gain and loss.
Suffering was bestowed by him. Joy, too, was bestowed by him.
Human nature was something he had completely wrapped around his little finger.
Returning to the imperial palace, he reported back to Emperor Yuming. Delighted, Emperor Yuming showered him with praise and rewarded him with twenty beautiful maidens.
He possessed everything imaginable except women.
Yet Pei Yaoguang declined them all on the grounds of having no interest in female beauty.
Emperor Yuming did not press the matter further and let it drop, assuming his character was noble and untainted by worldly desires.
At the hour of midnight, a cold moon hung high in the sky.
Undercurrents surged in the night while the metallic clatter of armor rang out uncecessantly.
A man in black garments moved with agile, athletic grace, sprinting swiftly across dark-tiled roofs.
Until his figure vanished beneath a towering ancient willow and sophora tree, framed by vermilion gates.
With sharp vision, Pei Yaoguang had long since captured the black-clad man’s destination.
Leading a company of Jinyiwei, he leaped into the Buddhist temple, sealing off every corner.
Red-lacquered eaves reached toward the sun while turquoise tiles soared across the rooftops; the tranquil serenity of the courtyard allowed a restless heart to find a measure of peace. On the entrance steps, only scattered snowflakes remained, the rest having evidently been cleared away by the monks.
The Western Mountain Zen Temple was a sacred Buddhist sanctuary where no bloodshed or killing was permitted.
Furthermore, because Emperor Yuming attached supreme importance to Buddhism, whether one was a local ruffian or a helpless weakling, anyone in distress could find sanctuary here and gain a new lease on life.
Abbot Huiru walked forward, supported by a monk.
Lean in build, with a long white beard adorning his jaw, his eyes nonetheless burned with vitality.
“Amitabha, trust you have been well since we last met, Commander.” Huiru pressed his palms together in greeting.
“This humble official is currently pursuing a criminal wanted by the court and just now saw him enter your temple. For the safety of all the monks, I implore the abbot to be accommodating and allow us to conduct a search,” Pei Yaoguang said unhurriedly, his face as steady as deep water.
Silence blanketed the surroundings, broken only by the crackling sizzle of torches.
“Please feel free, Your Honor.”
After the span of a cup of tea, the search ultimately yielded nothing.
Pei Yaoguang raised an eyebrow. “This humble official clearly saw him vanish right here; how could he not be found? Could it be that the Western Mountain Zen Temple is colluding with the imperial fugitive and hiding him away?”
Huiru’s mind remained tranquil as water. “The benefactor worries too much. This is a sacred Buddhist sanctuary; how could we possibly associate with a criminal wanted by the court?”
The surrounding monks were already trembling with fright, cold sweat beading across their foreheads.
If not for the sanctity of the place and out of deference to the emperor’s face, Pei Yaoguang would have long since launched a massacre.
Where would he find the mood to chat idly with these bald donkeys?
That man in black was the most difficult opponent Pei Yaoguang had ever had to handle; he had hunted him for three months without any success.
This time, having finally discovered his tracks, he had watched him vanish right before his very eyes.
How could Pei Yaoguang swallow this bitter pill?
He swore not to rest until he turned the Western Mountain Zen Temple upside down.
A cool breeze swept past, turning the monks’ sweat-dampened skin bitterly cold and causing them to shrink their necks in a shiver.
Pei Yaoguang cocked his head to listen in silence for a moment, twitching his ears three times without hearing any movement.
As a seasoned martial artist like himself, even the slightest disturbance from wind or rain would instantly alert him; it was utterly impossible for the target to have slipped away undetected.
He knew the man in black must be hiding nearby.
Scanning his surroundings with meticulous care, Pei Yaoguang paced forward. A glint flickered in the depths of his eyes two locations stood out as deeply suspicious.
One was the quarters of Master Puding, and the other was the adjacent bathhouse.
The man in black had disappeared right around that vicinity.
Pei Yaoguang leisurely strolled into the bathhouse.
Mist billowed within the pool, vaguely revealing a tall, slender monk sitting upright inside.
Viewed from a rear-diagonal angle, his rugged butterfly shoulder blades possessed vigorous strength, and his profile balanced between ascetic refinement and gentle warmth, radiating the ethereal aura of an immortal.
The monk’s long, fair fingertips lightly flicked, and a few droplets of water landed precisely on Pei Yaoguang’s face.
Splashing across his lips, white teeth, brows, and eyes, mingling with a faint trace of sandalwood fragrance.
Er… somewhat intoxicating.
“Who is it?” Puding parted his thin lips, his voice resembling the misty rain along the Qinhuai River.
The corners of Pei Yaoguang’s lips curved upward, his slender outer eye corners flushing slightly red.
“Master, did you hear or see anything just now?”
Pei Yaoguang squatted down. Up close, that gentle skin possessed the softest hue in the world. His arms weren’t massive, but the flesh looked taut and strong a handful that could surely be clasped completely, impossible to break free from no matter how one struggled.
Smiles overflowed in his eyes as he reached a hand into the pool to test the water; it was comfortably warm.
Puding pressed his palms together. “Amitabha, none at all.”
Wafts of medicinal fragrance permeated the water surface, causing Pei Yaoguang’s brow to twitch into a knot. “Why a medicinal bath?”
Puding remained silent.
“Speak!” Pei Yaoguang heightened his tone, resonant and forceful.
Puding’s thin lips trembled as he endured and said, “This poor monk… has a hidden ailment.”
A sneer suddenly echoed inside the bathhouse.
“Master is a disciple of the Buddha, leading a life of pure desires. Even if that jade stalk suffers from some affliction, to you, it should be of no consequence.”
Pei Yaoguang’s eyes flashed with a sharp, contemptuous, and inexplicably excited glint.
“What Your Honor says makes sense. However… since there is no one here whom you seek, I hope Your Honor will go look elsewhere.”
Apart from his family, no one had ever known about Puding’s hidden ailment; revealing it to an outsider now caused him immense distress.
What kind of identity and temperament the person before him possessed, he naturally knew well.
He only prayed this man wouldn’t go around spreading it, though he held little hope who knew what sarcastic remarks this person might make behind his back.
He felt like dying. Although he was a monk, he was also a man.
He was originally the Heir Apparent of the Duke of An’guo, named Huaisheng, courtesy name Zilin. He had practiced martial arts since childhood. When he was ten years old, a freak accident occurred: a five-jin heavy boulder plummeted down, striking squarely upon his genitals. His lower body had been covered in blood at the time, and the physician declared that his thoroughfare vessel (chongmai) had been injured, raising fears that he would be impotent for life.
At age twelve, when midnight yang energy surged and a young man’s ancestral tendons should have filled with blood, he never experienced it once…
Consequently, he became a monk at age fourteen, rising to become the abbot’s senior disciple.
On one hand, he felt deep compassion for the excessive slaughter in the world; on the other hand, he knew too well that he could never live as a normal man again entering this life.
Thus, taking monastic vows was his best destination.
Yet how could Pei Yaoguang obey his words and search elsewhere?
He refused to do so!
Who knew whether Puding was lying or not? He intended to test him out before letting the matter rest!