Chapter 316: The Hero Bestowed by Heaven, Tian Ce!

The foreign monk seemed never to have encountered someone so disrespectful.

For a moment, his mind seemed to freeze; the passersby dressed in western garb all wore expressions of utter disbelief, as if unable to believe that anyone in this place would dare openly defy a great Buddhist master.

The monk's face flushed red: "You, you!!!"

The foreign monk roared in fury, as if whipping these westerners with a whip: "To take offerings before the Buddha—do you know what price you must pay? What suffering and karmic sins you must endure?!"

The boy still had the leisure to joke: "Buddha?"

"All living beings in this world suffer."

"I am poor too."

"Let the Buddha's money be used to save me."

"Rescue me from the sea of poverty and suffering."

The monk said: "Our Buddha saves all living beings..."

The boy smiled calmly: "I am all living beings."

Batuer was shaken; for some reason, those four words carried an indescribable boldness and courage—something no ordinary person could utter. He looked up at the young man, whose mouth was pasted with a fake mustache.

Are all young merchants from the Central Plains like this?

No—could he truly be just a merchant?!

Batuer began to harbor doubts.

The foreign monk had never seen such an audacious scoundrel; he could only say:

"Absurd!"

"You are not all living beings!"

Li Guanyi said: "Nor are you Buddha."

The monk grew impatient: "Our Buddha saves all living beings—this is an offering to the Buddha, which becomes merit in your next life. Don't you understand this logic?!"

Li Guanyi suddenly understood: "So money is merit. Then I get it."

"Our Buddha saves all living beings—but doesn't save the poor?"

Li Guanyi's master, Wang Tong, had once debated all the Hundred Schools of Thought alone; yet this disciple of his, in just a few words, made the monk's face burn red. The monk tried to pry the money from the boy's grip—but the boy's grip was ironclad.

Even using the strength of a thief stealing lamp oil from before the Buddha, he could not pry it open.

Who in history has ever taken money from before the Buddha's altar? Since ancient times, only the Buddhas take money from living beings—never the reverse! He clamped his hand tightly on Li Guanyi's wrist and shouted:

"Aren't you afraid of karmic retribution in your next life?!!"

Li Guanyi reversed his grip.

With a casual flick of his fingers, the formation he had learned from his cheap elder brother took shape, leaving a mark on the monk's wrist. Yao Guang quietly followed Li Guanyi's instructions, imprinting a strange technique onto the monk.

At the same time, Li Guanyi sprinkled medicinal powder—left behind by Hou Zhongyu—onto the monk. This was a security measure Hou Zhongyu had devised for the Fire Qilin Palace, so ingenious that even his own ancestral master had marveled at it.

The formula was colorless and odorless, but when another herb was rubbed on the tip of the nose, an intense fragrance could be detected.

Li Guanyi had intended to track down the Mo Sect—yet here they came to him on their own.

How could he let this slip away?

He immediately applied three layers of safeguards: formation, strange art, and medicine—all to ensure a single principle: stability.

At the same time, he drew attention and asked with a smile: "Why doesn't the Buddha come find me in this life?!"

The monk was speechless.

Qin Wu Hou said: "You ask me because you fear the Buddha—but the Buddha isn't afraid."

"I do not see the Buddha; the Buddha does not see me."

"So even your Buddha fears me?"

The monk's face flushed crimson, his eyes blazing as he glared at Li Guanyi, desperate to refute him—but neither the Buddhist scriptures he studied nor the Mo Sect techniques he knew could counter this sharp-tongued fool. He could only shout: "You—you dare not give your name?!"

Li Guanyi straightened his chest and lifted his head: "I never change my name, never hide my identity."

"I am Tian Ge'er!"

Upon hearing this, Batuer—who had just been wondering if this might be a new hero from the Central Plains—froze: "…………" The entire aura of awe drained away.

Tian Ge'er was a legend passed mouth to mouth, already steeped in myth.

Both foreign monks were speechless; their fierce momentum collapsed instantly, then they roared in even greater fury: "Tian Ge'er? Who are you, to dare use a name from legends to deceive us?!"

The silver-haired girl crouched on the ground, carefully gathering the coins.

The monk flew into a rage, straining to wrench his hand free—but could not. He shouted: "This man has committed the grave sin of blaspheming the Buddha! In his next life, his tongue will be ripped out—he will suffer in the Hell of the Torn Tongue!"

"You won't even let him speak? This monk is terribly tyrannical."

Li Guanyi chuckled, having already left his mark. He gave Batuer a glance.

Batuer was shrewd—he immediately drew his knife and pointed it at Li Guanyi and his group, distancing himself and shouting: "Who are you, to dare steal the Buddha's treasures?!"

The monk cried: "They are offerings to the Buddhas!"

Li Guanyi let out a long laugh, seized the monk with one hand as if lifting a fallen leaf, unleashed a single strike of Xue Family Shattered Jade Fist—and shattered the monk's wrist. Then he swung him like a stone and hurled him into the other monk.

Around them, a crowd burst forth in a rush.

Someone shouted in Central Plains dialect: "Run! Head for the city gate! This city houses over a thousand monks—no labor, three pure meats daily, practicing Lesser Vehicle Buddhism—they hold high status here!"

"Unlike the Buddhist disciples of the Central Plains."

"Here, the Buddhas are real Buddhas!"

Li Guanyi saw Zhang Ziwen, the true Central Plains merchant, shouting as he galloped away on a camel. Li Guanyi laughed, casually snatched a clothesline pole falling nearby, shook it—and flung a soldier wrapped in a turban flying.

His left arm, strong as a monkey's, reached out and scooped up the silver-haired girl gathering coins.

He wrapped his arm around her waist.

The silver-haired girl was lifted into his embrace.

Her limbs dangled and swayed—but she still clutched her small bundle tightly.

Face expressionless.

Li Guanyi strode forward, a wooden stick in hand, striking or tapping—not killing these ordinary guards, but only hitting their wrists to knock their weapons from their grasp.

On a narrow road, weapons fell to the ground; Li Guanyi seized the monk's merit box, then tossed the girl the bag filled with coins, spun around, and flicked his finger.

The bag burst open in midair.

All the coins the monk had collected along the way scattered across the ground.

Civilians immediately rushed to pick them up; the monk, shocked and furious, cried: "These aren't your coins—they're the Buddha's! Aren't you afraid of the Buddha's wrath?!" He tried to chase Li Guanyi, but the coin-pickers blocked him, and then a clay jar descended from above, directly covering his head.

The monk's head was shaved bare, and he usually rubbed it with ghee, making it smooth and gleaming; with a soft pop, the clay jar slid right over his bald skull. The foreign monk felt darkness flood his vision and let out a startled shriek.

"Shoot arrows! Shoot arrows!"

"Kill these Central Plains heretics who slander the Buddha!"

"Shoot!"

Li Guanyi looked up and saw a woman in green robes, slender and tall, wearing a windproof hood, using lightness skill—her back laden with a large bundle—shouting: "You—you—you, what are you doing again?!"

"How can you cause such trouble just because I looked away for a moment?!"

Li Guanyi replied: "The Buddha wanted to steal my money."

Nangong Wumeng gasped: "Who dares be so bold?!"

"Besides Yan Daiqing, who else would dare take money from you? And you'd still give it to them?!"

The monk roared in fury: "It's for the Buddha! The Buddha's!"

Li Guanyi grinned.

Though his comrade's assessment of him seemed accurate, a complex feeling made Li Guanyi unable to feel joy—Lord, I am a Lord!

The boy shook his head seriously: "These are trivial matters, nothing serious."

"How's it going? Any luck?!"

Nangong Wumeng entered the city; Li Guanyi gave her many Jin Zhu, telling her to scavenge from street stalls and pawnshops. She frowned and said: "Just as you said—I bought a few things by instinct, but I don't know if any are good."

She used lightness skill, her movements agile, landing beside Li Guanyi and Yao Guang.

Purely by lightness skill, Nangong Wumeng of the Fourth Heaven was nearly equal to Li Guanyi of the Sixth Heaven—only the latter's power was heavier, each step crushing a small dent into the ground and launching him far forward, far less graceful than Nangong's.

Li Guanyi watched the large sack Nangong Wumeng carried, a smile on his lips.

Nangong Wumeng shrank her neck, cheeks flushed, and snapped:

"General, don't be so greedy for wealth."

"Think—without armor, how do we handle the coming arrow storm?"

The city guards had already flooded onto the rammed-earth walls, drawing bows. Western bows were larger than Central Plains bows, and their arrows had unique traits—longer range. Though Li Guanyi's Wu Gong was strong enough to withstand arrows, he was troubled—revealing his skills would invite more trouble.

But this arrow storm was no problem for them.

Li Guanyi teased:

"With your luck, why not summon a meteor shower?"

Nangong Wumeng stammered: "You—you—you!"

Nangong Wumeng, clearly angered, shouted: "Fine! I'll wager your thirty years of Lordly fortune—we'll break out of here without worrying about this arrow storm!"

Li Guanyi was stunned, but they were already at the city gate; the guards had prepared heavy wooden barriers—stakes and palisades. Li Guanyi gripped his wooden stick and strode forward.

He raised his arm, twisted his waist and hips, channeled power through his shoulder, and with a slight wrist turn, thrust the stick forward.

【Crush Mountain】!!!

The aura was grand and heavy.

Unlike when he first learned this technique.

Now, as Li Guanyi unleashed it, the qi surged powerfully, layer upon layer, as if even a real mountain ahead could be pierced through by this wooden stick in the boy's hand.

Boom!!!

The barriers ahead shattered—the thick wooden-and-iron palisades exploded apart. Within Li Guanyi's wooden stick, a dark-gold shimmer had already fused with the Tiger Roar to Heaven Spear Qi—and remained utterly unharmed.

As he stepped forward, his motion was so tight not even water could penetrate; flying wood splinters were deflected away.

Like a tiger charging forth.

The city's defenses could not even slow him.

A Central Plains general—even alone, in plain clothes—was not something a Western frontier town could stop.

As the archers on the steps fired together, suddenly a whirlwind rose, slamming into them, filling their mouths with sand, rendering their arrows limp and weak, swallowing them into a sandstorm.

Li Guanyi stared, dumbfounded, at the vast, blinding wind outside the city.

It really happened?!

Though he knew spring in the Western Regions often brought sandstorms, Nangong Wumeng had barely spoken those words—and Li Guanyi felt a chill. "Lady Nangong, could you maybe take back what you just said?"

The famed beauty of the Jianghu merely lifted her chin slightly, offering no reply:

"Hmph."

Li Guanyi grinned and burst out laughing. He and Nangong both possessed top-tier strength among their generation; this sandstorm could not stop them. After charging over ten miles, they found a large rock for shelter, hiding in its shadow.

He set Yao Guang down and brushed the dust from her body.

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze, sensing the aura ahead, his eyes calm.

Nangong Wumeng had left the Fire Qilin's mark along the way to guide Fan Qing and others, then said: "So, General—what did you do to that monk? You didn't really just do this because those foreign monks stole your Jin Zhu, did you?"

Li Guanyi told Nangong Wumeng that these foreign monks were from the Mo Sect.

Though the Fire Qilin soldiers didn't know Yao Guang's past, they knew the Mo Sect was a unique problem in the Western Regions—anyone seeking to establish themselves here must face such threats. Hearing this, they murmured: "The Mo Sect…"

"We've long heard the Mo Sect has spread roots in the Western Regions, assuming many identities."

"Never thought these monks were among them."

Li Guanyi nodded, planning to follow the trail to locate the Mo Sect's branch temple, trace it to its source, and prepare in advance. After chatting briefly with Nangong Wumeng, the Fire Qilin soldiers arrived.

Li Guanyi designated this place as Tiance Prefecture, and the others discussed the situation.

Pan Wanshu said: "The city walls here are built entirely differently from those in the Central Plains. I originally assumed the rammed-earth structures were weak, but after investigating, I found the rammed-earth bricks contain straw and similar materials, greatly increasing their strength. The gaps are sealed with millet porridge, making them extremely sturdy."

"Each feature—water wells, wind protection, and architecture—has its own distinct characteristics."

"They can withstand storms."

"They are unique architectures born of the Western Regions' climate."

Gongsun Huai and Xu Tiange also spoke on defensive mechanisms and agriculture, each offering insightful observations. Li Guanyi nodded slightly, then looked at Fan Qing, who still sat upright, back straight, even here.

Though dressed in gray Western Regions attire, he carried the solemn grandeur of a battle armor embroidered with Fire Qilin patterns and a civil-military robe with wide sleeves.

Li Guanyi said: "Fan Qing, what are your thoughts?"

Fan Qing bowed in return and said in a deep voice:

"Lord, this place could erupt in rebellion at any moment."

"Its society divides people into nine ranks, using the flesh and blood of commoners to sustain the nobility, high-ranking warriors, and monks. The upper classes wear fine silk, while the best among commoners wear rags barely enough to cover shame."

"The upper classes impose capital punishments on the lower: gouging out eyes, cutting off feet, severing hands, pushing off cliffs, drowning. In essence, nobles enjoy everything, while the middle class depends entirely on the upper, and regards the lower as impure filth."

"When a lower slave dies, a commoner becomes the new lower class."

"The brothers, younger siblings, teachers, and warriors of the upper class become the new middle class. This is a rigid, hierarchical order flowing strictly from top to bottom."

"The nobility uses porridge to strengthen city walls; the lower class survives on tree bark."

"It is saturated with extreme injustice—soil ripe for igniting the Fire Qilin's flame."

Fan Qing pulled out a scroll and pointed to its text: "Several hundred li north of this city lies the Great Dragon Pool. Legend says dragons change form, mate with mares, and give birth to dragon steeds. I suspect a vast herd of wild horses with beast-blood lineage dwells there."

"Also: 'There is a city without wells; its people draw water from the Great Dragon Pool. The dragon transforms into a man, mates with women, and begets sons who are fierce and run like galloping horses. Over time, they intermingle, wield strength as authority, and defy royal edicts.'"

"'The king summoned the Turks, slaughtered every inhabitant, young and old alike, leaving the city desolate.'"

"It means: the city's people drank the water, summoned a dragon who took human form and fathered children with them. These children defied royal orders, so the king brought the Turks to exterminate them all. This is legend."

"The legend conceals the dynasty's true act of mass slaughter."

"Even the most brutal warlord of the Central Plains would never massacre his own city—clearly, internal contradictions run deep."

"From my estimation, the Western kings used Buddhist legends to deceive the people, then after the massacre, attached these tales to the event to benight the masses—thus allowing Buddhism to spread wildly here."

Fan Qing sat there, back straight.

"This region is riddled with contradictions: it commits its own massacres, uses Buddhist legends to delude its people, and fractures unity between top and bottom. Once we mobilize under the banner of righteous justice, we can strike and crush it in one blow."

"The people will not support their king."

"With its forces, Lord, this is the ideal first target."

Nangong Wumeng: "…………"

Thus Pan Wanshu began discussing city defenses, Xu Tiange spoke of farming, grain, and logistics; Gongson Huai contemplated specialized siege machinery, while Fan Qing urged that the oppressed people be rescued before they were slaughtered and turned into rations.

In an instant, these Central Plains merchants transformed into their true selves.

Stern, calm, domineering—they knew why they had come here.

Like a blade hidden within its scabbard.

Breath swallowing ten thousand li, pacifying the four directions—Tiance Prefecture of the Jiangnan region.

Even after traveling with them so long, Nangong Wumeng sometimes still felt disoriented, unable to reconcile the man who wished for a divine dragon to sneeze on them, who frowned while drinking salty milk tea and conversed with tribal commoners,

With this man who, in mere words, radiated chilling, lethal authority.

Which one was truly them?

She heard herself answer instinctively: "I have recorded every detail of the city's defenses and layout."

The legendary beauty of the martial world sighed.

I am the same.

When Changsun Wuchou and Batuer returned, these men were already seriously evaluating the value of Nangong Wumeng's findings. Changsun Wuchou examined them and concluded their worth had at least tripled.

In that instant, Li Guanyi's eyes brightened.

Nangong Wumeng sighed: "Of course."

Still a greedy bastard.

What exactly is Tiance Prefecture?

She wondered, sometimes losing clarity. When Batuer returned, he said nothing to Li Guanyi, only sighed and warned them not to provoke the Buddhist elders—no good would come of it.

His mood was actually good, for Jin Zhu had returned.

His horse carried many bundles—sacks of grain, salt, clothing. The newborn children were growing fast; new clothes were needed.

He also bought oil to maintain swords and knives, and a small amount of turbid wine for himself.

Needles, cloth, herbs—all inexpensive items—but Batuer smiled, his face, weathered by desert winds, relaxing. His dark eyes gleamed with hope for the future.

As the group returned toward the tribe's encampment, Li Guanyi held the mirror he had bought for Miss, then suddenly froze. Fan Qing snapped his head up: "Lord."

The wind carried.

The scent of blood.

Li Guanyi said: "Go!"

They rushed back and found the tribe in ruins. Batuer seemed struck by a massive hammer—his face turned pale. The slight relief his face had gained amid this brutal age crumpled instantly.

As if a sledgehammer had crushed him.

Of over a thousand tribespeople, a hundred lay dead.

Li Guanyi and the others immediately helped tend the wounded, but the survivors made no wailing—only quiet sobs, eyes vacant, staring at the sky. The situation became clear:

A roving noble hunting party had encountered this hidden tribe.

And treated them as prey to test their skills.

When the tribe elder spoke these words, his face showed no emotion. Batuer ran frantically through the tribe, calling out name after name—but no one answered him.

"Sa Atandi!"

"Sa Atandi!!!"

The girl, who had struggled to survive even in this chaotic age, who had vowed to live until fifty-six, gave no answer—she had been taken. In this chaos, young, brave, healthy women were valuable in the Western Regions.

Batuer finally staggered to a stop. He saw the corpses before him, knelt on the ground—those were the elders just rescued, who need not have stayed by the lake to die; they could still have walked this earth once more.

Now they were dead.

Stabbed in the back by a saber, the man pitched forward; the horse reared, and the blade, agile, sliced cleanly along the animal's charge, splitting flesh and muscle open, spilling blood and organs in a gush onto the ground.

Batuer staggered, knelt, clenched his fists, desperately holding back his emotions—but when his horse, sensing his pain, came close and lowered its head to nuzzle him, the heavy burdens meant for the elders and children flooded his vision.

Batuer finally lost control. His fist slammed hard into the earth, and he threw his head back, wailing.

"Eternal Heaven, why?!"

It was as if this world knew their lives were about to improve.

It struck them down all at once.

It was just about to get better, just about to get better—they had already survived yesterday.

Li Guanyi bent down and pressed his hand against the hoofprint. "Why not chase them?"

Batuer's eyes reddened. "They're… they're nomadic nobles…"

"You've offended the Buddha, you can't go."

Li Guanyi looked at this brave Western warrior with two swords, saw the chains on his body—and a voice called out to him: "Jin Zhu, Jin Zhu…"

Li Guanyi turned his head, seeing an old man with grave wounds, Qi Laogui tending to him. Li Guanyi lowered his gaze, slowly knelt, and looked at the old man, who said: "Jin Zhu—she, Sa Atandi, has been taken. Please save her."

"She was a good child."

"A good child—she was only fourteen…"

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze. "Is my Jin Zhu still here?"

The old woman was the one who guarded the tribe's gold and silver. With trembling hands, she pulled out the Jin Zhu, carefully preserved—she had hidden it inside her wound.

Because it could protect many to survive. The golden bead was stained with dirty blood; her wrinkled, vein-swollen hand wiped at it, but could not clean it fully.

She wept. "It's dirty…"

Li Guanyi took the Jin Zhu and closed his fingers around it.

"I'm a traveling merchant. A traveling merchant."

"Sa Atandi's life. Your vengeance."

"I accept."

The old woman froze, tears streaming, clasping her hands together, murmuring something about Jin Zhu, Jin Zhu Mama. Li Guanyi placed the bead into his pocket, then smiled at Batuer and the others around him.

"After all, I'm the one you call…"

"Xu Tiange, right?"

The youth lowered his gaze and spoke in the Central Plains tongue:

"Tiance Prefecture."

Fan Qing, Gongsun Huai Zhi, Changsun Wu Chou, Pan Wanxiu, Xu Tiange, Nangong Wu Meng all stepped forward half a pace.

They stood as if still in Jiangnan, as if still clad in battle robes embroidered with Fire Qilin clouds.

They bowed their heads in response:

"Yes!"

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? Also, go to sleep early (struggling to control my schedule)