Chapter 1636: The Great Xiangguo Temple

The summer sun blazed, and the air of the Eastern Capital steamed with waves of heat, but the hot season could not stop the fervor of the faithful—the Great Xiangguo Temple remained a cacophony of voices, with incense pilgrims gathering like clouds.

After obtaining Emperor Liu's understanding and submitting to the court's laws, Buddhism quietly achieved revival once more within the Great Han. Their vitality was always so tenacious; the suppression from secular imperial power only made them lie low for a few years, yet as long as the bonds above their heads loosened even slightly, they would raise their heads again.

Although Buddhism in the present Great Han still faced restrictions and regulations—whether in the number of temples, the size of the monkhood, or temple property and monastic lands, all had an insurmountable ceiling set upon them, and even Buddhist thought and theory had to incorporate content serving the Great Han court and exalting Emperor Liu's rule—by now, it could truly be said that Buddhism had successfully weathered that cold winter.

Buddhism itself might face some suppression from the court, but the faithful were truly difficult to restrict. When there was no deliberate oppression from those in power, the folk custom of venerating the Buddha revived once more, especially within the past decade.

Back then, Emperor Liu's visit to Shaolin Temple, that bout of "discussing the Dharma with reverence for the Buddha," though it re-emphasized the basic principle that religion must submit to imperial power, in actuality loosened some restrictions on Buddhism, bringing a little long-craved sweet dew to the Buddhists and Taoists of the realm, dispelling much of the dark cloud that had long hung over Buddhism's head.

At least, there was no longer any forced imposition of outsiders directing insiders, no bureaucrats ignorant of Buddhist doctrine conducting temple inspections. In the present Great Han, speaking only of religion, both Buddhism and Taoism were honored—this was the consensus reached between Emperor Liu and these "men beyond the mundane." On that basis, all other religious groups were regarded as heresies and false doctrines, to be strictly banned.

Under Emperor Liu's will, a nationwide purge of evil spirits and licentious shrines had once been carried out, and especially those cults that bewitched hearts and misled the ignorant were treated as rebels—some were killed, some exiled.

Of course, religion has its inherent reason for existence and touches upon cultural tradition; it cannot be entirely killed off or eradicated. At least among those foreign tribes and barbarian peoples, they still worshipped their own deities, and these were not recognized by the court.

The court's policy of assimilating foreign peoples in religious culture could be said to have had rather poor results. Having them speak Chinese, wear Chinese clothes, and perform Chinese rites was still acceptable, but making them destroy their sacrifices and extinguish their faiths—that was difficult.

Although in some tribes there were those who believed in Emperor Liu, those were ultimately a minority; most people, who cared who Emperor Liu was?

Amid the border disturbances and ethnic conflicts of the present Great Han, some of the court's religious measures truly lost it much popular support—this could also be counted as a source of turmoil.

But Emperor Liu's attitude and will decided everything. He stubbornly championed great unity, and religious unity, in his eyes, was equally necessary. Everything was for the sake of maintaining his rule; anything he saw as an obstacle also deserved to be eliminated, banned, and prohibited.

Back in the days of "suppressing Buddhism," bewitching hearts and plotting treachery had been the reasons the court gave, but it had to be admitted that compared to those demonic heresies, Buddhist thought was still conducive to stability and could likewise serve as an effective tool in maintaining the court's rule.

Emperor Liu understood this reasoning too. The times had changed, the circumstances had changed, so naturally there was no need to exterminate Buddhism as in the Qianyou era. As at present, those eminent monks, besides their own duties, also held posts in the court's Imperial Observatory, contributing to the Great Han's "religious unity."

The temple-suppression campaign back then had indeed demolished many temples and melted down a great number of Buddha statues, but what remained were the cream of the crop, all with sufficient depth and heritage. After all, according to current regulations, in principle, only one Buddhist temple was permitted in each prefecture of the Great Han.

Because there were so few, those who came to offer incense and worship naturally tended to cluster together, and to the eyes of ordinary mortals, this appeared as thriving incense and flourishing devotion—even out of herd mentality, people were willing to make a trip to that one and only temple.

Of course, a place like Kaifeng was clearly exceptional; one temple was not enough. At the same time, the most flourishing temple in the realm was, without question, the Great Xiangguo Temple located within the Eastern Capital—the current gateway of Buddhism also stood at the Great Xiangguo Temple.

The blazing sun hung high, releasing its heat without restraint; a moment's exposure and one could not help but sweat profusely. Wang Yinwu walked out of the Great Xiangguo Temple's imposing mountain gate and instinctively raised a hand to shade his eyes from the glaring sunlight.

Looking back, smoke curled within the temple, and outside the crowds flowed like weaving threads. Vendors relying on the Xiangguo Temple's business called out their wares without cease—the whole scene was one of bustling, thriving liveliness.

However, Wang Yinwu's oppressed mood had not been much relieved. Many of his trusted subordinates could see that Wang Yinwu had been somewhat distracted lately, sometimes restless and uneasy, and that anxious agitation had even begun to spread within the Wude Office. Of course, most people instinctively assumed it was because of the Hexi case.

He alone knew the bitterness in his heart—because of Lu Duoxun's affair, Wang Yinwu had been tormented for these many days. Coming to the Xiangguo Temple today to offer incense was also to seek the Buddha and draw a divination lot.

Wang Yinwu believed in the Buddha; within the Great Han, that was not too strange, after all, it was no longer those old days. However, for a man like him who dwelt long in darkness and had seen his fill of intrigue to actually be a Buddhist devotee—if that got out, it might still surprise people.

Of course, such cases were not rare; among the high nobles of the Great Han, there were quite a few similar men. One fairly typical example was Tian Qincuo—"Buddha in his heart, butcher's blade in hand" was said of him. Similar to him was the late Marquis of Hengyang, Zhang Xun, who was also a ruthless killer of countless lives, yet in life had likewise maintained the habit of venerating the Buddha.

To say that Wang Yinwu truly believed in the Buddha—that was not quite accurate. It was nothing more than seeking some solace, some psychological comfort. If one day Emperor Liu ordered him to lead the Wude Battalion to raze the Xiangguo Temple to the ground, he would not hesitate in the slightest.

This trip to the temple to draw a lot was not without gain. Though the monk who interpreted the lots spoke in riddles of Zen, his words shrouded in mist and fog, leaving one dizzy and befuddled, it still helped him make a decision.

A difficult decision! A decision with unforeseeable prospects.

Though fraught with risk, compared to living in constant dread, fretting over gains and losses, and passively waiting, taking the initiative to act at least offered a chance to strive for something.

For Wang Yinwu, Lu Duoxun had completely slipped out of control—he was a wild horse that had broken its reins, impossible to appease or persuade. He was a time bomb that might explode at any moment, possibly blasting Wang Yinwu himself to smithereens.

That night, Wang Yinwu had originally been inclined to act, preparing to find Zhao Pu, to reveal a little, to give a hint, to play both sides—but at the very doorstep, he had changed his mind.

In his now fully sober state, he could easily realize that going to Zhao Pu was no different in essence from Lu Duoxun. Moreover, would Zhao Pu even believe him? Even if he did, Wang Yinwu would still likely be nothing but a pawn to be used.

And after the trip to the Xiangguo Temple, Wang Yinwu had thoroughly come to his senses. Under the present circumstances, to seek a safe passage through this crisis, there was only one road to take.

But likewise, it was a road full of unknowns, possibly still a dead end. Yet Wang Yinwu no longer had too many choices.

As for following Lu Duoxun down the dark path to the very end—after these days of deliberation, that had been thoroughly abandoned by Wang Yinwu.

The vendors outside the Xiangguo Temple sold all manner of goods; this had already become a famous commercial center within the Eastern Capital. The Xiangguo Temple was also the most commercially minded Buddhist temple in the realm—even its monk quarters offered paid lodging and goods storage services.

Before leaving, Wang Yinwu found a stall selling prayer beads and Buddhist ornaments, casually picked up a string of beads, gave them a brief glance, did not even ask the price, slipped them onto his wrist, tossed down a silver ingot, and left with his attendants while the stall keeper stared in bewilderment.

Wang Yinwu did not return to the Wude Office but headed straight for the imperial city. Along the way, he muttered something under his breath, looking rather distracted and obsessed.

If he had spoken aloud, one could have heard Wang Yinwu saying: "Your Majesty, your servant is guilty..."

"Your Majesty, your servant has important matters to report..."

"Your servant begs Your Majesty to punish him..."

"Your Majesty, your servant, your servant..."

The more he muttered, the more a feeling of panic welled up in Wang Yinwu. This decision was indeed somewhat difficult for him—the more he thought about it, the more terrifying it became, the more he thought, the more his scalp tingled.

Wang Yinwu had grown accustomed to coming and going from the Kaifeng imperial city, but never once had his steps been as heavy as this time. When he arrived at Chongzheng Hall and gazed up at the lofty hall platform, his legs nearly gave way. It was only with great effort that he forcibly suppressed the impulse to turn and flee...