Chapter 37: Stealing the Treasure

“You bald thief, you still dare to use silver-tongued sophistry to deceive the Heir Apparent! This General has come on the orders of His Highness to suppress you rebels! This man—do you dare say you do not know him?”

Zhou Mingguang brandished the Prince's handwritten mandate given to him by Qin Sang. With a violent wave of his hand, his personal attendant retrieved a severed, bloodied head from a bundle and hurled it forward.

Abbot Yuanzhen’s expression changed drastically. He hurriedly caught the head, his hands trembling violently.

The monks behind him collapsed to the ground in a heap, wailing in grief, some calling him "Master" and others "Grandmaster."

Zhou Mingguang remained unmoved, spreading out a silk certificate of ordination.

“Xuanji Temple, Chief of the Arhat Hall, Dharma name Yuanjue! Hmph! This man held a high position as Chief, yet he was willing to serve as a claw for the Pseudo-Emperor, nearly ruining His Highness's great undertaking, and was executed on the spot. The witnesses and physical evidence are both present; the proof is irrefutable. What more does this thief have to say!”

“Nonsense!”

A large monk glared with bloodshot eyes, gritting his teeth. “Master was a Xiantian-level expert. With mere rebels like you, it would be impossible to be his match! What insidious scheme did you use to harm my Master!”

Hearing the large monk's words, Zhou Mingguang cast a subtle, knowing glance at Qin Sang.

“Rebels?”

Zhou Mingguang nearly burst into laughter, saying sinisterly, “It seems the Pseudo-Emperor's lackeys in Xuanji Temple are certainly not limited to the monk Yuanjue. All listen to my command: enter the temple and search! Anyone who dares disobey shall be killed on sight!”

In an instant, gongs and drums sounded, and armor clattered loudly.

The monks of Xuanji Temple formed a battle array, appearing ready to resist to the end.

The atmosphere froze abruptly, reaching a peak of murderous tension.

At that moment, Abbot Yuanzhen suddenly closed his eyes, let out a long sigh toward the heavens, and solemnly handed the head in his hands to a nearby monk.

“Amitabha.”

Abbot Yuanzhen took a step forward. “General Zhou, my junior brother Yuanjue left the Great Sui to travel the world and has not returned for ten years. He must have just returned to the Great Sui and, being unaware of the truth, was momentarily confused and deceived by the Pseudo-Emperor. The monks of Xuanji Temple could never be the Pseudo-Emperor's lackeys. I ask General Zhou to see clearly.”

“Abbot!”

Seeing that Abbot Yuanzhen actually intended to confess and accept punishment, the monks of Xuanji Temple were filled with shock.

Qin Sang, however, was gratified that Abbot Yuanzhen knew how to read the situation; it was best if things did not escalate into a major conflict.

Zhou Mingguang’s tone softened slightly. “The Abbot is a man of the cloth and highly respected; surely you would not lie. However, Xuanji Temple has many monks, and it is inevitable that some are good while others are bad. If a lackey of the Pseudo-Emperor is hiding among you and causes trouble that implicates the temple, would that not be unfortunate? There is no need for concern, Abbot. This General will strictly restrain the troops to capture only the Pseudo-Emperor's lackeys; we will never kill the innocent indiscriminately.”

...

The Sutra Pavilion.

Qin Sang looked up at the seven-story pagoda before him. He had long admired this place. Legend had it that all supreme martial arts originated from Shaolin, and all Shaolin's secrets were contained within the Sutra Pavilion; it was a holy land in the hearts of everyone who had ever read a wuxia novel.

However, Qin Sang knew that the Sutra Pavilion of Xuanji Temple was merely a facade. It contained no high-level martial arts, only volumes of Buddhist scriptures.

The true treasure trove was not here.

Qin Sang turned his head to glance at Abbot Yuanzhen, who was sitting on the ground in the distance, silently chanting sutras.

All the monks of Xuanji Temple were being held in the Great Hall by Abbot Yuanzhen, surrounded by crossbowmen.

And Abbot Yuanzhen watched with indifference as the soldiers emptied the temple's treasury, seeing chests of gold and silver flowing down the mountain like water, yet remaining neither sad nor happy. He truly possessed great composure.

Zhou Mingguang strode forward, his gaze sweeping across the area. He pointed to an inconspicuous small path behind the Sutra Pavilion and shouted loudly, “There is another path here! Men, take a squad there and search thoroughly! If you let a single rebel escape, I will take your heads!”

Abbot Yuanzhen’s expression shifted slightly as he stepped forward to block the way. “General Zhou, you must not. Ahead lies the place where our temple's founder went into secluded meditation. You must not disturb him!”

Zhou Mingguang snorted coldly. “To hell with your founder! Without a thorough search, who knows who is actually in there? Is the Abbot so guilty because the person inside cannot face the light?”

“You!”

The veins on Abbot Yuanzhen's hands, gripping his prayer beads, bulged, and a sliver of wood fell from between his fingers.

“Fine! Fine! Fine! Then I invite General Zhou to search thoroughly to clear our temple's name! However, this old monk has one request. The founder is indeed in secluded cultivation within the Cliffside. I ask the General to grant a favor and allow this old monk to invite the founder out of seclusion first, lest we disturb his cultivation and cause a great error.”

Zhou Mingguang breathed a secret sigh of relief. He had almost provoked Abbot Yuanzhen into a rage just now, and his back was nearly soaked in cold sweat. He waved his hands repeatedly. “The Abbot may proceed as he wishes.”

With the Abbot leading the way and Zhou Mingguang following with his troops, they soon passed through a stone forest and reached a cliff.

The cliffside was covered in countless stone carvings, inscribed with the names of former nobles, virtuous high monks, famous martial arts masters, and great scholars. At the foot of the cliff was a row of stone steps leading upward, connected to a stone path that traversed the cliffside, lined with exquisite Buddhist sculptures.

The cliffside spanned the southeast. The eastern side, perfectly aligned with the rising sun to reflect the Buddhist meaning of facing the dawn, was the place of the Xuanji Temple founder's meditation.

Zhou Mingguang waited with his troops at the bottom of the steps while the old monk went up to invite the various founders down. Most were withered, elderly monks; among them were top-tier experts and virtuous high monks with no martial arts knowledge.

Abbot Yuanzhen comforted them one by one with great effort. Zhou Mingguang had his soldiers perform a perfunctory inspection while he mentally kept track of the time.

According to the agreement, he had to stall for Qin Sang for at least fifteen minutes.

By this time, Qin Sang had already changed into plain clothes and quietly ascended to the top of the cliff. Crouching there to observe, he finally saw the Xiantian-level founder of Xuanji Temple being led down the mountain. He immediately began to climb down the cliffside silently.

He had originally prepared a rope, but the stone carvings on the cliff were uneven and textured; even with his lightness skill, he could climb easily, making the rope unnecessary.

At the end of the stone path was a set of steps descending downward. Qin Sang landed softly on the path, his footsteps silent, and walked down the steps.

The steps descended deep into the earth, incredibly quiet.

There were several caves on both sides. Originally, the founders of Xuanji Temple had been in seclusion there, but they had now been moved.

If Zhou Mingguang had not been acting so unreasonably and forced them out, it would have been impossible for Qin Sang to infiltrate without being detected.

Finally, he reached the end of the steps, where an inconspicuous, narrow stone crevice lay in a corner, leading into a deep darkness.

The crevice was narrow at the entrance and wide inside, containing dangerous mechanisms. However, Qin Sang was already aware of them. He stepped carefully, avoiding all traps. The crevice split into several branches; these were the places where Xuanji Temple kept its rare treasures.

Qin Sang headed straight for the place where the bell was kept. There were other priceless treasures in the other branches, but in Qin Sang's eyes, they were no different from dust, and time would not permit.

A small stone chamber had been artificially shaped into a square, and a night pearl was embedded in the ceiling, casting bright light.

In the center of the chamber sat a stone platform. Upon it, protected by a glass cover, were a purple bell, a jade slip, and a talisman.

There was one final mechanism on the stone platform. Qin Sang felt for the poisoned arrows, disabled the trigger, and lifted the glass cover.

With time running short, Qin Sang suppressed his excitement, quickly stowed the three items, and quietly retreated from the chamber.