Chapter 736: Why Am I Still a Supporting Character!

The Divine Capital, Luoyang, the residence of Cao Yanming, Duke of Ziting Commandery.

This former sworn follower who had once gone west with Zhang Zhao to Khotan had long since lost his old vigor; now he was pot-bellied and ever more grossly fat, looking very much like the famous Hong Kong bit-part actor Lam Suet of later generations.

And over the years, Cao Yanming's standing in the eyes of outsiders had, like his fattened body, gone completely to fat — that is, to waste.

A distinguished sworn-follower meritorious official, and one of the highest-ranked sworn followers at that, who had also married the second daughter of the Great King of the Golden Kingdom, Li Shengtian, the Princess of Shache. Yet after being relieved of the post of Divine Capital Construction Commissioner, he had actually been tossed by the Emperor into the Heavenly Works Institute, with no assignment whatsoever.

That was simply too abnormal. By all reason, a man of Cao Yanming's status, if not made a chief minister, should at least have been able to serve as Vice Commissioner of Military Affairs or Vice Director of the Luantai.

At the very least he ought to have had a post like Minister of Works or Grand Transport Commissioner, yet the Emperor had merely given him the superintendency of the Heavenly Works Institute.

What kind of dog-fart office was that!

Never mind this Heavenly Works Institute, where no one knew what was done from one day to the next — even making him Libationer of the Imperial Academy would have been, for a man like Cao Yanming, a naked demotion.

Soon, rumors began to circulate in the officialdom of Zhang Zhou. Some said the Emperor wanted revenge for the old affair in which Cao Yuande had tried to lure him to Dunhuang to have him hacked to death. Now that Cao Yuande had been dead ten years, of course the anger could only be vented on Cao Yanming.

Others said this Fourteenth Young Master Cao of the Cao family had fallen into misfortune because he had embezzled too much on the Divine Capital construction project — it was said Cao Yanming had embezzled a full five hundred thousand strings of cash.

And this was not groundless; someone from the Money House Association had carelessly let it slip, saying that the year before last the Emperor had in one stroke approved two hundred thousand strings of funding for that whatever-it-was Heavenly Works Institute.

That was outrageous! Even if that blasted Heavenly Works Institute tossed gold-backed coins into a fire to burn for fun every day, it still could not have used up two hundred thousand strings in over a year. If that was not embezzlement, what was?

In any case, everyone had something to say. Cao Yanming had never been good at socializing. Well, not that he was bad at socializing — the boy's mind was a bit too direct.

Whatever he set his mind on, he would keep at it to the end. Whoever he took a liking to, he would still befriend you even if you cursed him. But once he took a dislike to you, even half a sentence with you was too much.

Moreover, ever since Cao Yanming had come to believe that he had received the great truth of heaven and earth from Zhang Zhao, he had completely convinced himself that, apart from Zhang Zhao, he was the man who most thoroughly understood the truth of heaven and earth. All the rest were mere ordinary mortals.

It was not that he was bad at socializing; rather, he felt that a divine being like himself — at the very least a demigod — had no need and no interest in explaining to "mortals" whether or not he was in favor.

Only, he did not want to explain to "mortals," but mortals would come looking for him.

The reason was simple! A grand Duke of Ziting Commandery with only the post of superintending the Heavenly Works Institute, and a father who had been angered by the Emperor into depression and death — however you looked at it, Cao Yanming ought to be full of resentment.

The Divine Capital Six Gates Patrol Office.

Cao Yanming sighed with some headache. His research was at a critical juncture, and finished products had already been produced, when his maternal cousin and brother-in-law, sister's husband, and maternal elder cousin-in-law, Emperor Shaoming, had gone off to the grasslands.

Now Cao Yanming did not even know to whom he should report, nor did he know whether the thing he had made according to Emperor Zhang's description was actually right or not.

For a fanatical research beast of burden who gladly accepted even a 996 schedule, to be stuck like this was as miserable as miserable could be.

And at precisely this time, his empress cousin insisted that he come out and take up the key post of Chief Inspector of the Divine Capital's Six Gates, which made Cao Yanming extremely uncomfortable.

This Divine Capital Six Gates Patrol Office not only had to be responsible for the defense and security of Luoyang, but also had to manage the public order problems within the city that the constables of the two capital counties of Luoyang and Henan could not handle.

The sheer volume of affairs and the complexity of the personnel were far more troublesome than the research Cao Yanming did at the Heavenly Works Institute.

Even though most of the people in the Six Gates Patrol Office were from the old Guiyi Army and the East-Returning faction, Cao Yanming was still driven to distraction by the complicated relationships and backgrounds.

What was more, the atmosphere at court was very wrong right now — wrong enough that even a tech-otaku like Cao Yanming could sense the abnormality. Otherwise Lady Cao Sanniang, Yan Nai, would not have brought the Eighth Prince Xian Zai to take refuge in the Divine Capital, Luoyang.

But then Cao Yanming thought of another layer. Since the atmosphere was wrong, and Third Sister Cao Yannai had brought Xian Zai to the Divine Capital to avoid the political whirlpool —

then... why did the Empress, his nineteenth sister, want him, a man so obviously unsuited to leading troops, to serve as Chief Inspector of the Divine Capital's Six Gates, bearing the heavy responsibility of the Divine Capital's defense?

If it truly came to the point where all the eggs could not be put in one basket, should they not transfer Zhao Cunyi from Xiangyang or Er Zhu Jing from Hanzhong back to strengthen the defenses?

Even if those two were too far away, there were still Murong Xinde of the Murong family and Fu Yanqing's eldest son by a concubine, Fu Zhaoxu, in Xuchang Prefecture.

Of these two, one was Commander-in-Chief of the Loyal and Martial Garrison of the Imperial Guard, and the other was Military Supervisor of Xuchang Prefecture, in charge of the three garrison armies of Xuchang Prefecture, Huaiyang Prefecture, and Caizhou Prefecture. Though their seniority was a bit shallow, they could still be counted as fierce commanders who had repeatedly won merit in battle.

Moreover, Murong Xinde was the own nephew of Third Sister's former husband and the full cousin of Murong Xinzhang.

Fu Zhaoxu, because his birth mother's status was too low, had never gotten anywhere, and it was the Emperor who had insisted on promoting him. The Emperor's favor to him was greater than heaven.

The loyalty of these two was completely beyond question; however you looked at it, they were more reliable than him, Cao Yanming.

Cao Yanming was actually very clever. Without some brains he could not do his current work, and if he truly had no brains, back then he would not have chosen to give up the status of a noble young master to follow Zhang Zhao, nor would he have firmly stood on Zhang Zhao's side after returning to Dunhuang.

He looked a bit blunt and a bit foolish, but that was because he was unwilling to spend his energy on these "worldly matters." Now that he mulled it over carefully, he knew something was wrong.

This... Third Sister Yannai and Xian Zai coming to the Divine Capital Luoyang, yet no crack troops or able generals being recalled, and instead letting him, a complete layman, hold the defense — however you looked at it, it was a bit...

Holy shit!

Cao Yanming nearly jumped up. Damn it, he had been set up.

He had been made into the meat bun put out to lure in the vicious dog — the unlucky child thrown out to trap the wolf!

He did not know whether this was the Emperor's intention, or a crafty idea of the Empress or Third Sister, or perhaps a scheme thought up by that schemer Pei Yuan.

Cao Yanming thought viciously, while his hands swiftly pulled a strange-looking contraption from his robes, then took round iron pellets and gunpowder from one little pouch and porcelain bottle after another and rapidly loaded them.

"Qingfeng! Qingxu! Damn it, get out here fast, bring all our good stuff. There's going to be big trouble."

Not content with tinkering by himself, Cao Yanming also raised his voice and shouted.

Before long, two men in blue robes came over, looking very refined — but from their soot-blackened fingers and the pockmarks on their faces, one could quickly judge that these two fellows not only had nothing to do with refinement, but were also rather strange.

"Master!" Qingfeng and Qingxu hurried over, their expressions full of excitement.

Qingxu, who was missing half of the little finger on his left hand and whose right cheek looked as if it had been burned by something, stared at Cao Yanming with a somewhat neurotic look.

"Master, do we set it up right here? Who's coming to make trouble later? I wonder whether that thing hits a man any differently than it hits a sheep?"

"No! No!" Cao Yanming had calmed down somewhat by now, saying words that Qingfeng and Qingxu could not understand.

"The unlucky child thrown out is not me, but Third Sister and Xian Zai.

I'm not even qualified to be the unlucky child. It seems I'm just being used as a paper-pasted door god."

How ruthless! As expected of the woman who could give birth to a son like Murong Xinzhang.

The Eastern Capital Kaifeng Prefecture had the Han Mountain Garrison defending it too tightly to expose a weakness, so they simply came to the Divine Capital Luoyang, and even found a paper-pasted door god like him to open the way for people.

He wondered what kind of fool could be lured in by this seemingly sweet bait. Cao Yanming rubbed his chin and thought for a moment.

Whoever it was, to be fool enough to reach this point meant he deserved to die; keeping him alive would just be a waste of food.

At this thought, Cao Yanming suddenly felt somewhat listless. So I'm not the protagonist after all!

"Set it up, set it up. Who knows, maybe a few fools will come my way."

People say a crow's mouth usually brings bad luck rather than good, and Cao Yanming had displayed this talent many times when he followed Zhang Zhao west to Khotan. Now, once again, he had hit the mark.

Luoyang, inside the White Horse Temple.

This Buddhist temple, first built in the seventh year of Yongping under Emperor Ming of the Eastern Han, in the year 64 CE, is the ancestral court and source of Buddhism for the entire Chinese cultural sphere, even including Southeast Asia.

In later ages, even the Indian government came to donate funds for rebuilding the White Horse Temple, which shows its standing and prestige.

Historically, however, this temple shared the fate of the city of Luoyang, enduring many twists and turns.

After Huang Chao sacked Luoyang, the White Horse Temple was plundered by mutinous troops, and by the time Li Cunxu conquered the Later Liang, the already dilapidated White Horse Temple was utterly destroyed in the fighting.

After Zhang Zhao took control of Luoyang, the rebuilding of the White Horse Temple was put on the agenda.

But because the Buddhist establishment of the Central Plains feared that the Six Dharma School of Hexi would use this opportunity to gain a foothold in this ancestral court of Buddhism, they adopted a rather cold and indifferent attitude toward Zhang Zhao's rebuilding of the White Horse Temple.

On top of that, the wealthiest Buddhist institutions, such as the Great Xiangguo Temple, had been badly burned when Zhang Zhao reclaimed the money houses; although Zhang Zhao still left them some shares, they had lost decision-making power, and naturally they were unwilling to let Zhang Zhao extend his hand further into Buddhist affairs.

Under their passive resistance, the rebuilding of the White Horse Temple proceeded in fits and starts, and even after the construction of the divine capital Luoyang was completed, the White Horse Temple was still a vast construction site.

The reason for this situation was simple: after the late Tang, when military men ran rampant and literary culture declined, the Buddhist establishment of the Central Plains had absorbed the great majority of the talent in sculpture, painting, architecture, layout, and compilation, and the depth of their accumulated expertise far exceeded even that of the imperial Ministry of Works.

Without the cooperation of these people, you could of course build any ordinary temple, but to rebuild the White Horse Temple, an ancestral court of Buddhism destined to be made into a hall of art, that was not enough.

At the same time, the state policies and laws that Zhang Zhao upheld did not support using military force to compel these people to come out and build the White Horse Temple.

Back when Zhang Zhao, burning with fury by the shores of the Yanqi sea (Bosten Lake), had killed several thousand of the Gaochang Uyghurs, Li Shengtian had said to him:

What an emperor must restrain most is the urge to always solve problems by killing, and Zhang Zhao had kept this lesson in mind all these years.

Killing people directly must always be a last resort, a measure to be used only when there is absolutely no other choice.

The Buddhist establishment of the Central Plains had no small influence among the common people, and they were already wary of him; the two sides had not reached the point where killing was necessary.

So when Zhang Zhao saw that they would not cooperate, he did not force them; there would always be a way to make these great monks accept "reform."

Having Pei Yuan come out and take the blame for punishing the Buddhist establishment—wasn't that a fine solution?

And while this approach of Zhang Zhao's temporarily eased his conflict with the Central Plains Buddhist establishment, it turned the White Horse Temple into a haven for filth and villainy.

Great numbers of believers, posing as Buddhist monks or wanting to "add bricks and tiles" to the rebuilding of the White Horse Temple, streamed endlessly to the White Horse Temple and its vicinity to rest.

And these monks, who held no ordination certificates and would not be casually checked by the authorities when passing through, if they further shaved their heads and took tonsure, or even simply burned their faces in an act of self-mortifying offering, could perfectly evade any wanted notice or inspection—even acquaintances would have trouble recognizing them.

Qiyun Pagoda Court—this is a pagoda court on the southeast side of the White Horse Temple's main gate. In the broad sense it is part of the White Horse Temple, but in practice its status is relatively independent, and it is also called the Eastern White Horse Temple.

It was moreover a very rare bhikkhuni sanctuary at this time—in plain terms, it could also be called a nunnery.

At present, however, there were no nuns in Qiyun Pagoda Court; it had not even been fully rebuilt.

Historical records say that in Han times, Qiyun Pagoda Court was a jeweled palace deep and secluded, from afar one could gaze upon the light of the sixteen-foot Buddha. The stupa soared into the clouds, faintly rising above the fifth measure. It stood upon the crags like a peak, and was named Qiyun. The pagoda had thirteen stories, over fifty-three meters in height.

Such a pagoda court, worthy of being called a work of art, could not have been built by Zhang Zhao without the wholehearted assistance of the Buddhist establishments of every region, and so Qiyun Pagoda Court was also seen as a barometer of the relationship between the Six Dharma School of Hexi and the Central Plains Buddhist establishment.

If Qiyun Pagoda Court was completed, then either one side had thoroughly overwhelmed the other, or the two sides had certainly reconciled.

So now, Qiyun Pagoda Court looked even more like a huge construction site than the White Horse Temple itself, and naturally even more people came and went through it.

At this moment, for example, a group of thirty or forty believers arrived at Qiyun Pagoda Court, bringing what they said were top-quality stone slabs from Jiangnan. This kind of stone slab was the most suitable material for building a pagoda court.

A minor official of the Ministry of Works beamed with delight. Transporting such heavy, top-quality stone slabs from the western circuit of Jiangnan was something that could only be done by risking one's life; without the perseverance and piety of such devout believers willing to make self-mortifying offerings, it simply could not be done.

Li Renshu, the bandit of Huaibei, was mingled among the crowd. This past year had not been easy for him.

Because the Emperor had transferred his son-in-law, Zhao Kuangzan, Duke of Yuyang, to the posts of Chief Minister of the Jianghuai Province and Commander-in-Chief of the Wuning Garrison of the imperial army.

This Zhao Kuangzan was not only the son-in-law of the current Emperor, but also the maternal grandson of the former Tang Emperor Mingzong. With such an exalted status, everyone in Jianghuai Province had to show him considerable face.

Moreover, Zhao Kuangzan had under him a seasoned core of old Lulong Army men who obeyed him as readily as his own arms. The moment he arrived, he immediately drove Li Renshu to the point where there was no road to heaven and no door to the earth.

Had it not been for the covert support and shelter of Liu Renzhan, Military Governor of the Qinghuai Army of Shouzhou in the Southern Tang, Li Renshu reckoned he would long since have died in some stinking ditch.

And it was precisely this desperate strait that made Li Renshu accept the Southern Tang's secret recruitment.

Liu Renzhan had promised that once the matter was done, the Southern Tang would establish a Huainan Military Governor in Chuzhou, and then he would be a regional commander.

As for being a regional commander or not, Li Renshu was not particularly moved, because he knew these officials talked sweetly enough, but they changed their minds just as quickly.

But if Zhao Kuangzan were allowed to keep sweeping through Huainan and Huaibei for another year or two, the turf that his Li family had built up over three or four generations would be completely destroyed.

To preserve this family enterprise, Li Renshu could only be even more zealous than Liu Renzhan.

Busy and toiling, hauling stones all day, even a stout man like Li Renshu was getting unsteady on his feet, and just when he was about to collapse, the time for the meal distribution finally arrived.

Li Renshu crept furtively over to the cookhouse, looking as though he wanted to find something to eat from a fat cook, but in fact this was a spy he had planted here.

"Daliang, the western side has sent word—they move in the tenth month. The eastern side has succeeded; the villain is said to be at death's door, but the watch is too tight, no one can get in."

After hurriedly saying a few words, the fat cook kicked and beat Li Renshu out, cursing all the while, while Li Renshu grabbed a dried-vegetable millet flatbread and fled like a rat, clutching his head.

Such scenes were common at Qiyun Pagoda Court, so the crowd merely laughed a few times, and few paid any attention.

Li Renshu ran with the dried-vegetable millet flatbread in hand, his mind already calculating rapidly.

The assassination in the Eastern Capital had succeeded, but the investigation had tightened. If the western side at Chang'an Prefecture had already made their move, then their people would soon reach Luoyang—he had to quickly transfer all his men to Luoyang.

Guanzhong, Weinan Prefecture, Huayin County.

An army flying the banners of the Three Guards of Chang'an was advancing rapidly.

They moved very fast; even when passing Weinan Prefecture, they did not go through the prefectural seat, but detoured around a stretch of road and cut through a rather remote village.

Chen Wu, Commander of the Left Guard of Chang'an, unconsciously furrowed his brow and strode along with the soldiers. Before long, a dispatch rider came galloping over.

Chen Wu waved a hand, and a personal guard beside him quickly stepped out and called to the dispatch rider, who was beginning to slow down: "Does the Supervisor have orders? Can we rest and reorganize at Huayin County town?"

The dispatch rider did not dismount, but answered from horseback: "The Supervisor's order: we must reach Tong Pass before sunset. Military affairs are urgent; no rest is permitted."

With that, as if afraid Chen Wu would grab hold of him and keep questioning, he hastily spurred his horse and galloped back the way he had come.

"What's gotten into the Supervisor? We set out from Chang'an Prefecture and covered two hundred li in three days. The lads are exhausted and parched; several more men in the third battalion just collapsed from heatstroke, and still no rest. He's in such a hurry—surely there aren't bandits attacking Tong Pass?"

The deputy commander beside Chen Wu clearly could not hold back any longer and muttered his complaints under his breath.

Chen Wu himself felt a surge of unease. They were garrison troops, not the personal army or the imperial guard, and had few horses. Covering two hundred li on foot in three days, eating only four meals, and marching in full armor, they had already reached their limit.

By all rights they should rest. What on earth had happened for the Supervisor to issue such harsh orders?

But as a full Commander, he could not speak his mind the way the men below did, so he could only keep a dark face and wave his hand.

"Orders are like mountains. Even if men collapse, we reach Tong Pass tonight. Say no more—once we reach Tong Pass, we'll know."

It had to be said that Cao Yancun had a real knack for leading troops. Even now, none of these garrison troops had suspected him, and most could still keep up with the pace of the march.

Did Cao Yancun not know these men had already reached their limit? Of course he knew — and the fact that they had been given only four meals in three days was also deliberate on his part.

If he did not do this, then in case the garrison troops of the Tongguan Three Guards refused to cooperate, they would not have the strength to make trouble. People in a state of extreme hunger and exhaustion are always far easier to control.

Now it all depended on whether Luo Yu'er was ready. If he was, then a portion of the men could be drawn back from Tongguan to seize control of Chang'an. After all, Cao Renzun still had very few men in hand and had not even dared to raise his banner yet.

Cao Yancun calculated silently in his heart, praying that Luo Yu'er was truly as reliable as Cao Renzun claimed.

Otherwise, if he dragged these several thousand exhausted soldiers headlong into the imperial guards at Jinchang Garrison, even if every man were of one heart with him, it would be much like an egg striking a rock.

However, when Cao Yancun thought of how the former generals of Meng Shu had already gone ahead to win over the old Shu army troops who were repairing Tongguan, he felt considerably more at ease.

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