Chapter 129: The Defection of Zhu Wei; Shenxiu Polishes the Mirror

This is truly malicious.

However, having seen it often enough, Li Wei was no longer afraid. Of course, he also understood a great deal, possessing some insight into the nature of his mother's power. Before the "Two Sages" era, his mother's authority had primarily been an extension of his father's. After the Two Sages, she had gained real power. Moreover, through her management, most of the staff within the palaces of the two capitals were her loyal confidants. This, in fact, was crucial; any disturbance within the palace reached her ears immediately. For instance, when Shangguan Yi and his father plotted to depose her, she knew of it as soon as the edict was drafted.

Some officials were also at her disposal, such as Xu Jingzong and his ilk. Yet, while few truly loyal ministers served her, the number of those opposing her remained vast. Throughout this, his mother continued to struggle, relying on a brilliant mind.

Li Wei never underestimated that mind.

As for power, though both were struggling, his mother was always better off than he was.

Then there was his own mild temperament. Since Di Renjie had said there was no immediate danger, he was in no hurry. He would drag things out slowly. If it truly came to that, he could stall for two or three years. By then, he would at least have tens of thousands of strings of cash—perhaps even hundreds of thousands—in assets. With money, escape would be easier; at worst, he could emulate that legendary figure, the Bearded Guest.

So, although cold sweat beaded on his back and his face betrayed panic, his thoughts remained clear. He said, "Mother, how would your son dare? I truly do not have such intentions. If I did, I could swear to the heavens and let them strike me down with five bolts of lightning."

Receiving no reply, he glanced up cautiously to see his parents sitting upright, their expressions blank. He thought to himself that it was still not ideal, but at least their anger was being vented rather than festering in their hearts. He mustered his courage and added, "Father, may I offer a piece of advice? A tree only grows lush leaves when its trunk is thick; crops only bear abundant fruit when their stalks are strong; a person suffers fewer illnesses when they are robust. Father, my health has been poor, but since I began practicing some martial arts, my condition has improved significantly. Perhaps I could teach you the Five Animals Play, Taiji Quan, the Eight Brocades, or the Muscle-Tendon Change Classic."

It was unlikely he could get his father to go for a morning run, but practicing a few moves while hiding in the palace was certainly feasible.

It might not truly work; his recovery from consumption was likely due to the breathing techniques of the Eight Brocades or perhaps a physiological shift caused by his transmigration, and these exercises had nothing to do with his vertigo. Still, a stronger body would surely improve his resilience against disease.

"You may go. Prepare for the journey the day after tomorrow," Li Zhi finally spoke.

"Yes."

North of the Luo River, separated by the Xiecheng Canal, lay the Lide Ward. The canal branched into the Xie Kou Canal, encircling the ward along with the Luo River. Surrounded by water on all sides, the moisture was abundant, causing the trees to flourish and the shade to be deeper than in other wards.

Lide Ward was home to another notable site: the Hu Temple, established by the Zhaowu Nine Clans. There was one in the South Market as well, but it was not as grand as this. Every year, the Hu merchants of Luoyang gathered here to pray, slaughtering pigs and sheep, accompanied by the sounds of lutes, drums, and flutes, followed by drunken dancing and singing. After the feast, they would elect a priest. The priest would then seek divine favor, taking a sharp blade to pierce his own abdomen and twisting the edge inside until blood flowed freely. Then, with a spray of water, the wound would instantly vanish. The spectators would be amazed and shower them with donations.

Of course, this was not magic; it remained an illusion.

However, the taverns in front of the Hu Temple did excellent business. Owned by Hu people, they featured authentic Hu dancers and music. The wine was genuine grape wine shipped from the Western Regions, and even the beef, horse, and mutton were brought in from the frontier.

In Li Wei’s words, it was authentic, undiluted "Hu style." This gimmick alone attracted many patrons.

Wei Yuanzhong had come as well.

He had arranged to meet Yao Yuancong and Ximen Chong for drinks and conversation.

"I hear that recently, you two have been enjoying excursions to Mang Mountain with some scholars."

"Yes, Censor Wei."

"Why?"

"We also hope to make a name for ourselves in the imperial examinations..." Ximen Chong said hesitantly.

Currently, the examinations did not employ the practice of hiding candidates' names, so examiners would often skip over names they did not recognize. Consequently, many scholars traveled to the two capitals every year, publicizing their own works, exchanging ideas with peers, and presenting their writings to high-ranking officials and nobles for appreciation. Even the scions of the Five Families and Seven Clans could not escape this custom.

Although he and Yao Yuancong were the Crown Prince’s companions, they lacked credentials and were young. Thus, in addition to assisting Li Wei, they were studying diligently. If they could obtain an official rank, then leverage the Crown Prince’s influence, their rise would be swift.

"Traveling to study is merely to enhance one's reputation and academic standing. But reputation—as companions and important aides to the Crown Prince, is your reputation not already heavy enough? As for learning, compared to the scholars in the Chongwen Hall, can a group of students truly compare? Too much is as bad as too little."

"Yes," the two replied, ashamed.

But Yao Yuancong added, "It is not just that. The reason we have been traveling these days is that the Authoring Official Wei Zhigu and the Right Rectifier Zhu Jingze have invited us. These two men possess extraordinary insight. When the Crown Prince traveled, he spoke highly of them, and thus..."

"The Crown Prince loves to praise and hide faults; his words should not be taken literally," Wei Yuanzhong interrupted immediately. Do not think that just because the Crown Prince had lashed out twice, his temperament was fierce—that was a misconception; he had been forced into it. Ordinarily, the Crown Prince had a very pleasant temperament and was easygoing with everyone. Even an illiterate guard would find themselves praised for some virtue, such as good archery or horsemanship. He paused, then added, "However, they two do indeed possess some talent."

Not only him, but even Di Renjie had praised the two, noting their different styles and predicting that they would surely distinguish themselves one day.

"Exactly. I observe that they also wish to serve the Crown Prince, but find it difficult to voice."

"Oh? Can you be certain?" Wei Yuanzhong could not help but ponder. The Crown Prince’s confidants were indeed few. While these two were grassroots officials, they were talented—certainly better than Yao Yuancong and Ximen Chong. If they could be brought in, it would strengthen his force. Furthermore, they were upright and of good character; being low-ranking officials, the Emperor would not be wary of them. Or perhaps, he mused, when the Emperor issued the decree for them to accompany the Prince, he already had the intention of them becoming the Prince's aides.

When all was said and done, while the Emperor was wary of the Prince, he had not slackened in his cultivation.

After a moment of thought, he said, "Bring them to see me another day..."

It was necessary to have a talk; only if they truly admired the Prince could they be used. If it were merely the Emperor's intention, no matter how talented they were, they could not be employed.

Hongren had not come after all, sending only his senior disciple, Shenxiu.

Wu Zetian was slightly dissatisfied. She summoned Shenxiu and asked, "Why has your master still not come?"

"Reporting to the Empress, my master is aged, and the time is short; he cannot make the journey to the Eastern Capital."

"I have heard that you are the most cherished disciple under Master Hongren, the future Sixth Patriarch of Chan Buddhism?"

Li Wei had always assumed Chan Buddhism belonged to the Shaolin Temple, only to realize after visiting that it was not so. He learned that the lotus blooms everywhere, but the Third Patriarch, Sengcan, had practiced on Mount Wan Gong in Shuzhou; the Fourth Patriarch, Daoxin, lived on Mount Potou in Qizhou; and the Fifth Patriarch, Hongren, preferred quiet and remained on Mount Potou. Meanwhile, another of Daoxin’s prized disciples had gone to Mount Niutou in Jianye.

Li Wei privately speculated whether, since the Shaolin warrior monks helped Li Shimin and began to emerge into the world—even eating meat—Sengcan had grown disillusioned and departed for Mount Wan Gong.

"I am ashamed to say, the Sixth Patriarch is not this humble monk."

"Is there another outstanding disciple under your master's tutelage?"

"There is, but the story is a long one."

"Can you tell me?" Everyone has a heart for gossip, and Wu Zetian was no exception, though she usually hid it well.

"In the fourth year of Wude, our dynasty defeated Xiao Xian. The family of Xiao Xian’s former official, Lu Xingtao, was reduced to commoner status. Shortly after, Lu Xingtao passed away, leaving only his wife and son. The son was but three years old; when he grew up, he was illiterate and sold firewood in the market to survive. A few years ago, the son came to Dongshan Temple to seek my master. My master asked, 'Where are you from, and what do you seek?' He replied, 'I am a commoner from Xinzhou in Lingnan. I have come from afar to pay respects; I only seek to become a Buddha, not to seek anything else.' My master asked, 'You are from Lingnan, a hunter—how can you become a Buddha?' The man replied, 'People may be from north or south, but the Buddha-nature is fundamentally without north or south. Though my body as a hunter differs from a monk, how does our Buddha-nature differ?' My master then sent him to the mill to chop wood, where he became 'Layman Lu.' Eight months later, this humble monk suddenly had an inspiration and left a verse on the wall: 'The body is the Bodhi tree, the mind is like a clear mirror stand; at all times, wipe it diligently, so no dust can settle.' "

"A fine verse," Wu Zetian sighed.

But Li Wei sighed. He didn't know much history, but he knew this specific episode was a major milestone in Buddhist history. He didn't know how Shenxiu’s practice compared, but the man’s bearing was not inferior to the monk Kuiji. Upon meeting Wu Zetian and Li Zhi, he was neither haughty nor humble—no weaker than Ming Chongyan. He was handsome, in his forties, with a broad forehead and square jaw, dressed in pristine white robes; from afar, he seemed untainted by a speck of dust.

Yet, it was precisely this verse that caused the Chan sect to split.

Shenxiu continued, "I dare not claim credit; at the time, I also felt quite proud. Who would have thought that when my master saw it, he said, 'You have reached the gate, but have not entered.' Two days later, Layman Lu was delivering firewood and heard the crowd discussing it. Being illiterate, he asked what it meant, then said, 'It is beautiful, but it is incomplete.' Everyone in the temple laughed. But that evening, he asked someone to write a verse for him after mine: 'Bodhi is fundamentally not a tree, the clear mirror is also not a stand; since there is nothing at all, where can the dust settle?'"

"Amitabha," the great monks listening nearby folded their hands and chanted.

"My master, upon hearing this, immediately wiped his verse away with his shoe, without expressing an opinion. That night, he called Layman Lu to his room, secretly passing on the robe and the Dharma, even bestowing the gold-threaded kasaya of Bodhidharma. Fearing that Layman Lu’s standing was low and his background humble, he worried that jealous monks might act against him. After passing the robe and bowl, he spent a moment in thought, then sent Layman Lu away to Lingnan in the middle of the night. He personally rowed the boat to the Jiujiang Ferry. Layman Lu offered to take the oar, but my master said, 'It is I who should carry you across.' Layman Lu replied, 'When I was lost, my master carried me; now that I am enlightened, I must carry myself. Though the name of crossing is the same, the application differs... Now that I have attained enlightenment, I should rely on my own nature to cross.'"

Hearing this, everyone felt their spirits soar, imagining that night—perhaps the moon was high and the stars sparse over the Yangtze, the river vast and clear, a single small boat with two high monks—no, one was merely a layman—exchanging such profound words.

They were all spellbound.

Li Wei did not quite believe it, so he remained calm. Suddenly, he had a flash of inspiration and said, "Master Shenxiu, your master did not attain enlightenment, nor did Layman Lu."