Chapter 70: Holy Monk 36(Reinforcements are Wolves)

Holy Monk 36(Reinforcements are Wolves)

Jiang Si Yin clenched his fists: "We can dig a tunnel!"

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"Yes!" Jiang Si Yin showed a proud smile on his face, "My dad has already started digging; the tunnel extends from the temple to here. My dad has prepared lots of food in the tunnel, enough to last over half a year!"

He carefully analyzed the advantages of the tunnel for them: "Besides, the tunnel is ventilated; although living there isn't very comfortable, it wins in safety! My dad also set up pitfalls, raised poisonous snakes, placed poison… If these still can't stop the enemy, you can still run."

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The tunnel is a bit low; Sang Ya's father needs to bend his waist to pass, Sang Ya can pass by lowering his head, and as for Jiang Si Yin, his height is just right, he can jog all the way through.

Looking at the pitch-black tunnel ahead, Sang Ya's father stared wide-eyed: "Such a long tunnel must have taken three to five years to dig?"

The Great Master looked at the frail and slender figure and thought they definitely couldn't do such rough work; could it be that the two burly foreign men serving the father and son dug it?

Jiang Si Yin said: "Not three to five years, just two months."

Sang Ya's father didn't believe it: "Impossible!" Even if three people dug together, it would still take three to five years, right? How could two months be possible?

Sang Ya thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up, she said firmly: "It must be the Great Master's magic!"

She had always felt the Great Master was not a mortal, but a heavenly immortal; otherwise, how could the changes on the grassland be so great?

"Well..." Jiang Si Yin rubbed his nose, his tone filled with awe, "It's all thanks to Tongtong."

"Then you can only say it's a clever parrot?" Sang Ya's father asked in surprise; he knew parrots were smart, said to be able to play chess with people.

But how could a parrot do something that people cannot?

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Jiang Si Yin explained: "Tongtong is a monster; it asked the pangolin family to help dig the tunnel!"

Regarding this, he had already been shocked; he knew the parrot was extremely learned, but he didn't expect it could also summon animals—indeed a formidable monster.

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"I remember, there are no pangolins on the grassland, right?" Sang Ya's father said blankly; he swore that no one on the grassland knew what a pangolin looked like, and he had only heard the name, never seen one.

Sang Ya was extremely excited: "Oh my, since there are monsters, this world must surely have spirits and gods." She clenched her fists: "So the Great Master must be an immortal!"

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Actually, now even he isn't sure if his father is human, but the parrot definitely isn't human!

"It was Tongtong riding on an Eastern Sea Hawk, going to Daqing to fetch the pangolins… Tongtong seems also able to communicate with the pangolins."

What Jiang Si Yin didn't say was that the pangolins weren't working for free; his father's medicine pills were something the pangolins liked, making tunneling enjoyable for them.

At that time his father also muttered to himself: "You may not look eco-friendly, but you live quite eco-friendly! The poor monk increases your chances of survival, which also counts as a contribution to the world's environment."

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All he knew was that pangolins can protect forests; they may not be good-looking, but they are very important.

Sang Ya's family came specially to the temple, taking advantage of the absence of those two foreign men, and solemnly thanked Master Xuanji.

After seeing the tunnel, Sang Ya's mother also felt relieved; although she still worries about her husband, at least she no longer needs to worry about the safety of their three children.

"This war is a civil war, be careful." Jiang He said to Sang Ya's father, "You still have a wife and children to look after; your family is so wealthy, if you die in battle, who knows how many people would have designs on Sang Ya and her mother?"

Human nature cannot withstand temptation; there are far too many people who want both wealth and riches. Moreover, Sang Ya's father is an orphan, Sang Ya's mother is a woman from the Central Plains, lacking a natal family to rely on; if Sang Ya's father dies, the fate awaiting his wife and daughter is easy to imagine.

Sang Ya's father's face grew heavy: "Great Master, rest assured, my construction crew has now become my subordinates; I am not someone to be bullied."

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Thanks to the Great Master's earlier teachings on building earthen beds and houses, he was able to rally a force of dozens; now these people are willing to live and die with him, and his chances of survival are absolutely higher than most herdsmen.

"Well then, Great Master..." Sang Ya's father wanted to speak but held back, finally gritting his teeth: "Great Master perhaps thinks I'm sowing discord, but those two people beside the Great Master…" He lowered his voice: "Great Master must be careful; maybe someone sent them." The Great Master's hand holding the prayer beads paused, his face showing a calm smile: "The poor monk knows what's going on."

The civil war on the grassland has begun.

Whether it's the Ironfull Tribe or the Black Bear Tribe, they all know this battle decides the grassland's fate; they all want to defeat the other, unify the grassland, and become its ruler.

When the fighting began up front, the grassland became filled with alarming cries.

Ordinary herders reduced going out; families with many livestock still had to go out to pasture, while those with few simply stayed home, feeding stored wheat bran and black feather grass, lest they encounter enemies outside, losing their livestock and risking their lives.

After following the Eldest Prince to seize a large patch of lush grassland, Sang Ya's father finally managed to return home to recuperate from his wounds, utterly exhausted.

He told his wife and daughter: "The Eldest Prince's subordinates are many talented people; now the advantage lies with our Ironfull."

Sang Ya fed bean cakes to the warhorse, feeling a bit sorry as she stroked the animal.

Before setting out, the horses they had raised to be plump had all grown thin; one can imagine how arduous the battlefield was.

Sang Ya's father drank a bowl of soup and said: "This time we must thank the Great Master; thanks to his medicine, otherwise I might not have made it back."

He felt some lingering fear; war can kill, and he had never been this close to death before.

Upon hearing this, Sang Ya's mother's tears instantly fell: "Honey, you're wounded; just step back—our family doesn't need you to earn great merit."

Sang Ya's father embraced his two frightened sons, who clung tightly to him, refusing to let go.

Young children don't understand; they only know that when dad leaves, mom and sister keep crying, so they cling tightly to dad, not letting him go.

Sang Ya's father gave a wry smile: "This wound isn't serious; at most I need half a month to recover—but once the order comes, I still have to go to the front."

Sang Ya lowered her head without speaking.

Actually, she also wasn't at ease about her father; she very much wanted to follow him to the front lines.

Over the past two years, she has read many medical texts and studied medicine with Master Xuanji; whether bandaging wounds, prescribing and decocting medicine, she can do it all, and she has even learned how to suture wounds. The grassland's shamans don't know how to do this; she is confident she can save more people, but she worries about her mother and two younger brothers.

Her mother is so frail, and her two younger brothers are still so young; they don't even know what war is.

"Dad, it's inconvenient for you to go to the temple; I'll go thank the Great Master."

Sang Ya sorted through the items her father had gained from the battlefield; while the Great Master's attitude toward gold, silver, and jewels was ordinary, he would surely like the precious caterpillar fungus, snow lotus, and many valuable medicinal herbs.

Sang Ya's father nodded and gave his daughter a few more instructions.

Since the grassland erupted in war, merchants from the Central Plains dare not come; the temple has visibly grown desolate, its doors kept shut most of the time.

The Hu people knew the master was a monk and did not want to drag him into the steppe's civil war.

Sang Ya went to the temple and saw Master Xuanji, from whom she obtained a medical book on treating external injuries.

After returning home, she took out a rabbit from the shed and conducted experiments on it.

The master specially crafted a small knife shaped like a willow leaf for her; when the sharp blade slid over fur, it felt as smooth as cutting cheese.

"Suture thread can stitch wounds, but one must also watch for fever; high-proof alcohol can prevent fever… there is no burning knife on the steppe, so we still need to buy it from Daqing."

Sang Ya lowered her head, working seriously, recalling the master's teachings while she labored.

"What is Sang Ya doing?" Sang Ya's mother exclaimed in shock, "A perfectly good rabbit not eaten? Why cut it open and sew it up again?"

Could it be that the daughter's recent pressure is too great, driving her mad?

"Our daughter is practicing medicine." Sang Ya's father patted his wife's hand to comfort her, "She is trying to see if she can save those severely wounded."

Sang Ya's mother did not understand why saving people required this; to her it seemed utterly senseless.

She really couldn't bear to watch her daughter abuse the rabbit, so she turned away, out of sight out of mind, but couldn't help complaining: "If anyone saw this, your daughter would never marry in her lifetime."

Which family's man could accept a woman who wields a knife and stitches up small animals' bellies?

Sang Ya's father held the opposite view, proudly saying, "My daughter is so capable; any good lad who wants to marry her will surely line up! As for your fear and timidity? Heh, cowards aren't worthy of marrying my daughter!"

Sang Ya's father's wound had not yet scabbed over when he was summoned back to the front.

Sang Ya stuffed a large amount of the wound medicine and hemostatic powder she had made into his pack, reluctantly seeing him off.

After seeing her father off, Sang Ya went to the temple.

Before, she did not believe in gods or buddhas, only in Eternal Heaven; after Master Xuanji came to the steppe, she occasionally burned incense and worshiped the Buddha when she had nothing else to do.

Now she hopes that Eternal Heaven and the buddhas together will bless her father, letting him return safely.

Sang Ya knelt before the Buddha for a long time before leaving.

After she left, another Hu girl entered and knelt on the cushion still retaining warmth.

Many people came to the temple, but no one raised their voices; they all quietly prayed and sought buddha's aid, the more fearful and worried they were, the more they needed spiritual solace.

The master's face, seated in the temple, was bathed in sandalwood, solemn and dignified, resembling a heavenly buddha; his compassionate and gentle gaze took in all the joys and sorrows of the world.

Whenever their eyes met his, the Hu people's minds would go blank for a moment, their tumultuous unease gradually calming.

They came anxious and restless, and left calm and peaceful.

"Don't lose focus!" Jiang He shouted, blocking with his staff the slash aimed at Hala Babage's arm, then spun; the staff left only an afterimage, and the surrounding black-clad fighters were flung away.

If he escapes, who knows whether these black-clad people, in their anger, might take revenge and kill; these are all the elderly and infirm, surely no match for them.

The elderly and infirm inside the house thought, although only a dozen or so households surround the temple, further out there is a camp of yurts; with such a commotion, surely someone would hear.

Sang Ya promised her mother she would only shoot the black-clad from afar, not engage in melee, and finally she could break free from her mother and brothers.

Master Xuanji's kindness to the steppe outweighs the heavens; who would assassinate him?

"Master, you go first, we'll hold them off!" Hala Babage shouted, for if the master died on the steppe, even if the old Chanyu did not punish them, the herdsmen would not forgive them.

They had stayed in Hu lands for three years, the Hu people respected and admired his father; he never expected to encounter an assassination.

These assassins' techniques, the more one looks, the more they resemble the martial moves of Hu warriors.

Yet even such a master still met with misfortune.

Parrots can fly, sure, but the black-clad will shoot arrows—far too unsafe.

They fought while eyeing the master with astonishment, having always thought him so frail a breeze could blow him away, yet he turned out to be capable of fighting.

Jiang He hefted his son onto his back in one motion, swept with his long staff, then followed with a horizontal arc; Batu, spinning, could no longer hold back.

Jiang He swore he could see contempt on the faces of those black-clad men, even with them covered.

At that moment, the black-clad surged forward again, unleashing another killing move.

The elderly and infirm finally made up their minds; they took out bows and arrows— in close combat they were just delivering vegetables, but at a distance they could still cause trouble for the black-clad.

Although his motives for coming to the steppe were not pure, he truly helped this steppe; after arriving, no one starved to death here, the herdsmen's lives became better than ever, even surpassing most of the Central Plains' populace.

Jiang He cradled his son with one hand and held the monk's staff with the other; his face lacked its usual transcendent peace, and each strike of the staff took a life.

The two were invigorated; their martial arts were already formidable, for they were warriors the old Chanyu had painstakingly trained; they were certain the old Chanyu would not kill the master, for if he intended to, he would surely have notified them.

Seeing the master not flee when he had the chance, but instead run back, Hala Babage and Wuli Gaji muttered that the master was too soft-hearted, with neighbors helping him he could easily have escaped, yet they were deeply moved inside.

Sang Ya's mother clung tightly to her daughter, telling her two bewildered sons, "Tie Mu, Tie Mu, quickly hug your sister's legs; no matter what, she must not go out today!"

The two had seen the master's morning drills and staff practice before, but they always thought it was just flowery show, meant only to exercise the body, appearing to have no lethal power at all.

She hid in the shadows, drew her bow, and loosed arrow after arrow at the black-clad.

Jiang Shiyin's eyes were sharp; he couldn't help shouting, "Everyone! You run quickly!"

No matter how strong the master's martial arts, he remained that kind, gentle master who could not bear to see people suffer.

The black-clad recoiled reflexively several steps; when he smelled his own stench…

They swore to protect the master unto death, having memorized the sutras, now only awaiting initiation as disciples.

The elderly and infirm hiding in the house heard this and burst into an uproar.

"Father, I didn't mean to," Jiang Shiyin said, tightly clutching his father's neck, feeling extremely embarrassed.

Amid his turbulent emotions, Jiang He did not turn and flee.

He swore that from now on he would train harder in martial arts and never again vomit to repel enemies.

Turns out what they thought were merely flowery fists and embroidered kicks were actually a martial art with high lethal power?

Someone said: "That's Master Xuanji! The Master Xuanji whose kindness to the steppe is as weighty as a mountain!"

"Tsk, hundreds of assassins—truly the treatment of a great figure."

One of them, presumably the leader of the black-clad, spoke briefly and shockingly, with no extra words.

Not far away, Sang Ya shoved her mother and brothers into the underground tunnel, then picked up her own whip.

The moon peeked from the clouds, casting a soft light upon the world.

The black-clothed men could only watch helplessly as the monk fled for his life, furious beyond measure.

He knew his father liked cleanliness; he couldn't help it.

She certainly knew the Great Master had bestowed immense kindness upon her family, but her family's Sang Ya had never killed anyone; her whip could handle a scoundrel just fine, but against an assassin it would be like delivering vegetables!

"Mother, let go of me!" Sang Ya exclaimed anxiously, "Ba Tu and the Great Master are in danger; I have to go help them."

Jiang He's ears were sharp; he had no choice but to fling his son from behind to the front, facing the black-clothed men head-on.

This attitude also showed that they regarded this father and son as good as dead, not worth wasting words on.

The black-clothed man sprayed in the face: "……"

"Who exactly are you?" Ha La Ba Ba Ge shouted, "Don't think that just by wearing black you can disguise yourselves as Great Qing assassins! First wash off that mutton stench, then talk!"

But the longer they fought, the less confident they felt, the more uneasy they became.

Besides that, he couldn't put his mind at ease about the neighbors around him.

The two Hu strongmen following them also brandished their great knives, knocking the incoming arrows aside.

The war scale of Tie Man and Hei Xiong had expanded further; all able-bodied men were conscripted to the front lines, leaving only the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled—if they didn't cause trouble, that was already good enough; now each of them anxiously paced back and forth inside their houses.

The father hesitated for a moment, because the black-clothed men opposite also hesitated for a while; their bodies covered in vomit were still quite lethal, forcing people to hesitate.

Ha La Ba Ba Ge instinctively blocked the black-clothed man's incoming great knife with his blade, his gaze constantly shifting to the Great Master; his martial skill and strength were such that thrashing the two of them posed no problem at all.

The black-clothed man wielding the knife couldn't help but pause, then his eyes flashed with a vicious light as he struck even more fiercely; evidently he had strong objections to the biochemical weapon sprayed by Jiang Si Yin.

Those green eyes, clustered together, seemed to glow, making anyone who looked at them feel a chill down their spine.

Jiang Si Yin's dazed eyes widened in alarm, he let out an "uh-uh-uh" as he hiccuped uncontrollably; the next moment, unable to hold back his physiological reaction, he vomited like a fairy scattering flowers, spraying the black-clothed men opposite.

Just after he finished vomiting, Jiang Si Yin was flung onto his father's back again.

"Father..."

Jiang He carried his son on his back, he lifted his gaze to the surrounding houses; arrow after arrow shot from the darkness toward the black-clothed men.

Perhaps before they had wanted to become his disciples out of admiration for the Great Master's fame and status, but now they sincerely wished to be good disciples; they had no interest in medical arts or the like, only eager to learn the Great Master's superb martial skill!

As it turned out, was the Great Master truly a top-notch expert?

Jiang Si Yin, hanging on his father's person like an ornament, was about to vomit.

A black shadow seemed to descend from the moon, drawing ever closer.

"Sang Ya, you're not allowed to go!" Sang Ya's mother clung tightly to her hand, her face full of panic.

He felt the whole world spinning, as if even last night's meal were about to be thrown up.

The two children rushed over, tears welling up, "Older sister, don't go! We're scared!" They didn't understand much, only knowing there were bad people outside; even if the older sister couldn't beat them, she still wanted to go out and fight them.

Jiang Si Yin stared wide-eyed in terror, his voice trembling; he knew he must not lose composure now, he clenched his lips, striving not to disturb his father, letting his father treat him like a chick, picking him up and putting him down, fearing his father would be distracted.

The moon hung high, its light growing ever brighter; a pack of wolves surged forth like tens of thousands of troops from the depths of the grassland.

Clearly, when facing A Ke Shan and his gang, he could take on three at once, thinking himself quite formidable; yet when confronting these well-trained assassins, he—who had never killed anyone or seen blood—couldn't even escape.

These arrows piercing the darkness were a reward he had never imagined; his efforts were not in vain, and someone always remembered his achievements.

Few houses were built around the temple, and few people lived there; if it were the old Mongolian yurts, with everyone gathered together, there would surely be someone to come help.

No matter how strong their martial arts were, they could not withstand this group of black-clothed men, who outnumbered and overpowered them.

Jiang He lifted a black-clothed man who had finally overcome the vomit with a stick, turned to his son with a reassuring smile, "It's fine, I didn't get any on me! If you want to vomit, tell me; aim at the assassin, but under no circumstances vomit on my back."

These arrows shot by the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled lacked aim and strength, but in sufficient numbers they were still enough to hinder them and cause trouble.

At that moment, Wu Li Ga Ji Na let out a muffled groan; he had been injured.

"Ugh!"

Ha La Ba Ba Ge and Wu Li Ga Ji Na were both injured; if he fled, they would surely not survive, even though they were spies, we must admit they had truly devoted themselves to caring for the father and son's daily life; the son's process of wits and courage alongside them had indeed given him ample tempering.

If not for his hands still clasped around his father's neck, Jiang Si Yin would have loved to cover his face and disappear from sight.

Under the dim moonlight, a group of black-clothed men with their faces covered in black cloth held great knives, the blades reflecting a cold light in the moonlight. Jiang He remained unafraid, his voice carrying a few extra degrees of chill.

Knowing the intentions of those two Hu strongmen, the black-clothed men sped up, hoping to leave the life of the Xuanji Great Master behind; just then, out of nowhere, arrows came flying from afar, forcing the black-clothed men to flee in disarray!

The two Hu strongmen couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, secretly thinking it must be the Old Chanyu who had sent troops; they resolved to hold out!

Yet neither side expected that the reinforcements were not human.

He can farm, cook delicious food, practice medicine, study the scriptures, and even teach and raise children… and now he has also mastered a superb martial art! Great Master, is there anything you can't do?

"Kill!"

Sang Ya was both anxious and angry, yet unable to bear hardening her heart to shake them off, letting them get hurt.

The parrot's splendid feathers were not especially bright in the moonlight; it cried loudly, "Reinforcements are coming soon, hold on! Hold on!"

Ha La Ba Ba Ge cautiously rolled onto the ground, then dared not lose focus any further; with so many assassins, the person behind them surely bore a deep hatred for the Great Master.

The Hu people who had come to pay respects to the Buddha all said the Bodhisattva was truly efficacious, regarding the Xuanji Great Master as a follower of the Bodhisattva in the human realm.

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