Chapter 120

"Brother Zhang, Master Kumārajīva..."

Duan Yu still wanted to persuade them, but after Zhang Jie and Kumārajīva, the two people in charge, reached an agreement,

his opinion was directly and magnificently ignored.

Having no choice, he, who had already regained his freedom, could only follow Zhang Jie and the other two.

At the same time, he made up his mind:

If Zhang Jie and the others did anything to insult the remains of their ancestors, he would definitely argue based on reason.

And just as Zhang Jie and the three were about to leave,

the manager of Songhe Tower ran out from somewhere with a smile:

"Young Master Zhang, this Master, what about the losses to my humble shop?"

As he spoke, he pointed to the table that had been riddled with holes by the leaked force from Zhang Jie and the others,

and was about to fall apart, as well as several other tables where the food was still steaming,

but the guests had long since disappeared.

"Amitābha, this humble monk was reckless just now."

Kumārajīva was somewhat ashamed.

All this damage was caused by the leakage of his power,

and it was also the noise he made that scared away all the guests,

while Zhang Jie's power was perfectly rounded from the beginning, without the slightest leakage.

It was precisely because of this that he so easily admitted defeat and conceded.

"Manager, this humble monk has nothing of value, so let this item compensate for the damage."

Kumārajīva said, taking an Eastern Pearl from his sleeve and handing it to the manager.

"This Eastern Pearl..."

The manager looked at the Eastern Pearl in Kumārajīva's hand, which was the size of a quail egg,

perfectly round, and glowing with light, and was instantly speechless.

Such an Eastern Pearl, I'm afraid, only dukes, nobles, or even the imperial palace would have.

And how could a monk with such treasures be an ordinary monk?

Could he be a high monk from big temples like Shaolin, Wutai, or Daxiangguo Temple?

The manager quickly refused:

"This Master, this item is worth a thousand gold; I'm afraid my humble shop cannot provide change."

At this time, Zhang Jie, who saw that the situation was a bit wrong, stood up and stuffed a piece of silver, which was not too big or too small,

but more than enough to compensate for these losses, into the manager's hand:

"Dharma King, don't make things difficult for Manager Qian."

Well, this plump manager of Songhe Tower, who looked like a Maitreya Buddha when he smiled, was surnamed Qian.

Seeing Zhang Jie resolve the situation, Manager Qian gave a grateful look.

"Amitābha, it is not that this humble monk is making things difficult for the manager, but that I am indeed short of funds."

Kumārajīva explained with a bitter smile.

He was the Great Wheel Dharma King of Tibetan Buddhism and the State Preceptor personally conferred by the King of Tibet;

in his daily life, his disciples and followers would help him take care of everything,

so naturally, he had no gold or silver coins on him.

There was absolutely no need for it!

After taking Duan Yu away from Tianlong Temple, he still had to find a pawnshop to pawn a small personal item,

only then solving their travel expenses from Dali to Gusu.

By today, that little bit of travel money had been spent completely.

Since Kumārajīva had said so, what else could Manager Qian say?

He could only repeatedly say that the Master's Buddhist Dharma was profound and that he regarded money as dirt...

'Tsk tsk, people in the martial arts world also have their own little survival secrets!'

Looking at the waiters who also came out from secret places, skillfully carried away the table,

and replaced it with a new one, looking like they had done it many times,

and then thinking of their disappearance speed, which was three times faster than other guests just now, Zhang Jie clicked his tongue in wonder.

With their escape skills just now, as long as it wasn't intentional,

the aftermath of a fight between ordinary first-class experts would be hard-pressed to harm them in the slightest.

Having solved the problem at Songhe, Zhang Jie and the three started to rush to Yanziwu, where the Murong family was located.

Yanziwu was located on an island, and this island had only the Yanziwu force,

and because the Murong family had some secrets,

not only were there high walls and deep courtyards, but there were also many martial artists guarding the house.

However, with two great experts like Zhang Jie and Kumārajīva,

the Murong family's high walls and deep courtyards, and the patrolling guards who were considered copper walls and iron barriers in the eyes of ordinary people, were as if they didn't exist,

and they arrived at the Murong family's cemetery in a few leaps.

The cemetery was originally deserted, and few people came on weekdays,

only being a bit lively during festivals when paying respects,

and today there was only one old and deaf gravekeeper.

What made Zhang Jie even more relieved was that this gravekeeper had gotten a jar of wine from somewhere,

and was drinking himself drunk in broad daylight.

The sound of his snoring was so loud that it could simply cover the digging sound of ordinary grave robbers.

'Perhaps only such a thick-skinned person is suitable for this kind of lonely,

and occasionally somewhat terrifying job of guarding a grave.' Zhang Jie sighed inwardly.

However, what made Zhang Jie sigh was that the Murong family was worthy of being a family that called itself royalty,

as the family cemetery was actually built to the specifications of a mausoleum, with stone statues and sacred paths.

Although it was not at the level of an imperial mausoleum, it could still be compared to ordinary dukes and nobles.

This meant that Zhang Jie and the others didn't need to dig up the grave,

but could directly dig a hole from the tomb passage and enter.

Zhang Jie looked around casually, found the weak point of the tomb passage, and waved his palm a few times to make a big hole.

Duan Yu looked at Zhang Jie's skillful appearance and really wanted to ask:

"Why are you so skillful?

Did you have any part-time job that required working at night and wielding a Luoyang shovel before?"

Zhang Jie, seeing Duan Yu's confusion, shrugged:

Could he tell Duan Yu that he was attracted to grave-robbing novels for a period of time before he transmigrated?

He still remembered some of those professional formulas:

Tang tombs on half-mountains, Song tombs in bays, Han tombs on mountain peaks.

Shang and Zhou tombs on both sides of rivers.

Spring and Autumn and Warring States tombs on mountain tops, Qin and Han big tombs on mountain ridges,

Eastern Han and Southern Dynasties on mountain slopes, Sui, Tang, and Song corpses on hillsides.

Tang tombs are sweet, Song tombs are astringent, Ming and Qing lime stings the mouth, Shang and Zhou ancient wood has a heavy fishy smell,

Qin and Han cinnabar smell is too strong, Spring and Autumn and Warring States don't need to smell, if there is soil, there are green paste marks.

Mountains follow the water's curve, holding the bends, the cave is clearly here,

Moths are right above the grave, snowflakes falling turn into salt, thunder and lightning definitely mean a grave.

Don't look near rotten wood, the grave is in the mountain ridge.

Spring and Autumn and Warring States are red soil, Western Han backfilling uses yellow soil,

Eastern Han doesn't use yellow sand mud, Tang and Song tomb pits have a lot of black soil...

When he read it, other netizens' comments were:

Let me teach everyone again, remember it well, if you are really at a dead end,

just memorize this passage, it can help you make a comeback...

Zhang Jie didn't know if this formula could help people make a comeback,

but there were indeed several netizens with super high action ability who ended up eating the national rice...

Perhaps, getting an iron rice bowl can also be considered a kind of comeback?

Before long, the trio passed through the tomb passage and arrived in front of Murong Bo's coffin in the tomb chamber.

There were still some candles used for worship inside, and Zhang Jie, holding the mentality of waste utilization,

pointed his finger, and dozens of energy beams lit them up.

Even Duan Yu didn't recognize for a moment that Zhang Jie was using their Duan family's "One Yang Finger."

Duan Yu: I didn't even know my family's "One Yang Finger" could light dozens of candles at once...

And Kumārajīva, who recognized the One Yang Finger, had already had all his attention attracted by the mystery of Murong Bo's life and death.

"Amitābha, old gentleman Murong, this humble monk has offended you."

Kumārajīva apologized, then placed both hands on the stone outer coffin lid.

Creak, creak.

As Kumārajīva exerted force with his arms, the outer coffin lid, weighing hundreds of catties, was slowly pushed open.

Inside the stone outer coffin was a wooden inner coffin.

Kumārajīva repeated the previous operation and moved away the coffin lid made of fine sandalwood.

"Amitābha, how could this be?"

Then, he was shocked, his words full of disbelief.

"Master, what did you find?"

Seeing Kumārajīva, who was usually unflappable, so surprised, a strong curiosity arose in Duan Yu's heart.

At this moment, he didn't care whether Zhang Jie and the others digging up the grave and opening the coffin was right or wrong,

but walked to the coffin in two or three steps and peeked inside.

"Murong Bo is actually not dead?!"

After one look, Duan Yu exclaimed.

Seeing that there was not only no corpse or bones of Murong Bo in the coffin,

but not even a piece of clothing, this was an empty grave!

"Amitābha, how could the old benefactor Murong do this?"

Kumārajīva, shocked in his heart, turned the prayer beads in his hand repeatedly, his mind filled with confusion.

Murong Bo's reputation in the Wu Lin back then could be compared to today's North Qiao Feng and South Murong,

what kind of big event could make him have to fake his death to escape?

"This Murong Bo is likely plotting something big!"

Duan Yu, who was also extremely shocked, muttered to himself.

Although he only liked literature and traveling, and was not interested in power struggles,

he was ultimately the heir to the Prince of Zhennan of Dali, the future Emperor of Dali; influenced by what he saw and heard,

he subconsciously attributed Murong Bo's behavior to either great treachery or great evil.

After all, what kind of good person needs to tell such a huge lie and then fake their death to escape?

And Murong Bo has faked his death for so many years, what exactly is he plotting?

Duan Yu couldn't help but think of the major events that had shocked the Wu Lin recently:

Ke Baishui of the Funiu Sect died under his own famous unique skill, "Heavenly Spirit Thousand Splits."

Sima Wei, the leader of the Qingcheng Sect in Sichuan, died under the "Broken Moon Awl" of the Qingcheng Sect's unique skill, "Eighteen Breaks of the 'City' Character."

Qin Boqi, the son of the leader of the "Five Tigers Breaking Door Saber" of the Qin Family Village in Yunzhou, died from the "Five Tigers Breaking Door Saber,"

the most rigid and fierce unique move—"Four Sabers of the 'King' Character," being slashed in the face and dying.

A high monk of the "Xuan" generation of Shaolin Temple died under his own famous unique skill, "Vajra Pestle."

Ma Dayuan, the deputy leader of the Beggar Sect, had his throat crushed; looking at the injury, he died under his own unique skill, "Throat-Locking Capture Hand."

Which of these major events in the Wu Lin are related to the fake-dead Murong Bo?

The way these experts died was truly too similar to the unique skills of the Murong family,

the "Dou Zhuan Xing Yi," which is claimed to be able to "return the other's way to the other's body."

"Hey! I didn't expect you, Prince Duan, to have such insight."

Zhang Jie was even a bit surprised upon hearing this:

Is this still the Duan Yu who was as white as a little white rabbit?

Duan Yu rolled his eyes: He doesn't like power struggles, but he's not a fool, okay?

But thinking of Zhang Jie's fist, which was bigger than Kumārajīva's and truly bigger than a sand pot,

Duan Yu decided not to argue with him.

This was definitely not cowardice, but following his heart; he who knows the times is a hero.

"Amitābha, I hope Benefactor Zhang can clear up our confusion."

Kumārajīva, who was on the side, put his hands together after thinking for a while and bowed to Zhang Jie.

Duan Yu's eyes also lit up: Others might not know,

but Zhang Jie had already found out about Murong Bo faking his death to escape,

so he should also know a little bit about his purpose.

"This matter is actually like this..."

Zhang Jie had no intention of keeping secrets for Murong Bo and immediately revealed his affairs:

Murong Bo deceived a group of great heroes in the Central Plains Wu Lin decades ago,

saying that Great Liao intended to send the Imperial Guard instructor Xiao Yuanshan into Shaolin Temple to steal the seventy-two unique skills of Shaolin,

strengthen the military power of Great Liao, and then destroy the Great Song.

For this reason, Shaolin Temple, which held the reins of the Central Plains Wu Lin,

and was also concerned about its own interests, how could it sit idly by?

Xuan Ci, the Subduing Tiger Arhat who had just taken over as the abbot of Shaolin, immediately became the leading brother,

and called upon a group of Wu Lin heroes to ambush Xiao Yuanshan outside Yanmen Pass.

Who would have thought that Xiao Yuanshan didn't want to sneak into the Great Song at all,

but was taking his wife and children back to his wife's family to visit his father-in-law and mother-in-law.

After a great battle, Xiao Yuanshan, whose beloved wife was killed, jumped off a cliff to commit suicide after exhausting his strength while holding his wife's corpse,

and the martial artists, who also suffered heavy casualties, could only return to the Great Song in a dejected manner after knowing they had made a mistake.

And Murong Bo, knowing that the truth of this matter was hard to hide, immediately faked his death to escape.

"Amitābha, I didn't expect that there would be such hidden circumstances in the tragedy back then."

Kumārajīva, who learned the truth about the tragedy outside Yanmen Pass, sighed with emotion.

But Duan Yu thought of a deeper level:

"This matter has no benefit to the Murong family; why would Murong Bo do this?"

Kumārajīva also nodded upon hearing this: The starting point of everything is either interest

or righteousness; purely harming others without benefiting oneself, except for a madman, who would do it?

One must know that when Murong Bo "died" back then, Murong Fu was still young,

and if it weren't for the loyal four great generals assisting,

and Murong Fu himself being somewhat promising later, making a name for himself,

the Murong family would have almost been removed from the list of martial arts families!

Paying such a high price, to say Murong Bo had no huge plot,

Kumārajīva thought it was impossible even with his own toes.