Chapter 760: The Inner Demon and Goryeo

Murong Xinzhang narrowed his eyes, inwardly calculating whether to order his Zhaoyi young general to kill this foreign monk. For this fellow from India to have appeared at Xiangji Temple was tantamount to an assassination attempt.

To his doting son, anyone who had ever posed a danger to Zhang Zhao's safety had no right to remain in this world.

The only reason he hesitated slightly was that this foreign monk enjoyed immense prestige in the old Khitan lands. After all, in years past he had chiefly propagated the Dharma among the Khitan and had been an honored guest of the Khitan nobility.

Master Cixian saw the killing intent in Murong Xinzhang's eyes. Far from being afraid, he seemed even more delighted, and pressed his palms together.

"Namo Shakyamuni Buddha. Benefactor Murong is indeed a son of the Buddha, to have actually conceived the intent to kill this old monk."

Even the widely experienced Murong Xinzhang was stunned by Master Cixian's words, then, half amused and half exasperated, he dismounted.

The Tuyuhun people had always been Buddhist, and Murong Xinzhang now took an interest in the old monk before him, because his words seemed to carry a hint of willingness to submit.

"Why does Master Cixian say such a thing?"

A smile appeared on Master Cixian's face, and the snowflakes resting on his long eyebrows came rustling down with the smile.

"This poor monk came from Upper India to the Middle Kingdom, and it has now been fifteen years. I have always followed the teachings of my Buddha, and so wherever I have gone, I have received the courtesy of the faithful.

This old monk has traveled the length and breadth of the land, and only upon meeting the Supreme Dharma King did I feel boundless killing intent upon his person. Today I have felt it again upon Benefactor Murong."

"If this old monk may be permitted a word of self-praise, it still takes considerable resolve to kill a virtuous elder of great merit."

The old monk was not entirely boasting. That day at Great Xingshan Temple in Chang'an, when he had declared before Murong Yanchao that he would switch sides, even a man like Murong Yanchao had not been able to decide in the first instant to strike him down.

Murong Xinzhang smiled noncommittally. "Master Cixian must have been waiting here specifically for me, no? Surely it was not merely to tell me these things."

"Naturally not." Master Cixian nodded, though it was unclear whether his "not" meant "not waiting" or "not merely."

"This old monk waits upon Benefactor Murong to ask the benefactor to convey a word to the Supreme Dharma King: this old monk wishes to go pay his respects before the Buddha's countenance once more."

Murong Xinzhang narrowed his eyes. "Before the true Buddha one does not speak falsehood. Not only do I not wish to introduce the master, I would very much like to cut the master's head off with one stroke."

"Ha ha ha!" Master Cixian had long since shed the appearance of an enlightened eminent monk, and actually burst out laughing like an ordinary mortal — hardly the conduct befitting a great monk of his generation.

"This old monk knew Benefactor Murong would refuse. Therefore, permit this old monk to introduce these three men behind me."

Master Cixian pointed to the youngest, most robust man on the left and said: "This is the headman of the Helian clan of the Hedong Tuyuhun, Helian Hailong!"

Murong Xinzhang's heart stirred. Among the tens of thousands of Hedong Tuyuhun forcibly conscripted under his command, of that Tuyuhun people who had originally roamed north and south of the Yin Mountains, only Helian Hailong, chief of the Helian clan, had not yet submitted.

He now already held the three Tuyuhun clans from the He-Huang Valley, and four thousand households of Tuyuhun from Shuofang and Yanzhou-Xiazhou.

If he could gain Helian Hailong's submission, the Yin Mountain Tuyuhun would essentially be his as well, and he, Murong Xinzhang, would be the true, complete Great Khan of the Tuyuhun.

"This man is an old acquaintance of the benefactor." Master Cixian pointed to the tall, burly man in the middle. As soon as he finished speaking, the burly man pulled off the hood covering his head — it was none other than Murong Yanchao.

Murong Xinzhang's expression changed. Murong Yanchao was one of the sources of turmoil among the Hedong Tuyuhun. He did in fact know Murong Yanchao; they had associated in the Eastern Capital in the past, though they had not been very close.

Now that the hood was off, Murong Xinzhang looked a few more times. It was indeed Murong Yanchao.

"Yan Kunlun, you certainly have nerve! I heard Wang Jun and Li Ye rebelled in Xuzhou — were you not caught up in that?"

Murong Yanchao cupped his hands in salute, his expression somewhat complicated as he turned his head aside. "Third Young Lord, after so many years, you are still as spirited as ever!"

Master Cixian said to Murong Xinzhang with a smile: "Does the benefactor know that your maternal grandfather Lord Yuanzhong's life was saved by these two men?"

Murong Xinzhang of course knew that Cao Yuanzhong had nearly met with disaster, but he was not very clear on how he had escaped. Liaodong was still somewhat far from the Central Plains, but he assumed Master Cixian would not lie, so he clasped his fists and bowed past his knees.

"In that case, let me first offer my thanks here to you two for your lifesaving kindness."

Helian Hailong and Murong Yanchao had not expected that Murong Xinzhang, with his status as Prince of Liaoyang and a famed commander of the realm, would still act this way. Somewhat surprised, they hastily returned the salute.

After the three had finished exchanging courtesies, Master Cixian pointed to the dejected-looking burly man on the right and said: "Benefactor, this man is the one you have pursued for months without result — Gao Song, Gao Mouhan."

Only now was Murong Xinzhang truly startled. Ever since Gao Song had been garrisoned at Zhongtan Fort on the Yellow River near Luoyang, he had been a famed Khitan general whom the Great Zhou wished to capture and kill.

Murong Xinzhang had lately been digging three feet deep through Liaodong precisely to catch him, and had never expected him to be here in Beiping Prefecture, at Master Cixian's side.

But in the next instant, Murong Xinzhang understood. Master Cixian's prestige in the old Khitan lands was outstanding; his disciples and grand-disciples, and those who had received his kindness, were beyond count in their worship of him as a living Buddha. Only with Master Cixian's cover could Gao Song have escaped his pursuit.

Gao Song was extremely tense at this moment, because he alone had not the slightest friendship with Murong Xinzhang — rather, there was much enmity between them. So he seized the moment before Murong Xinzhang could move to seize him, and clasped his fists.

"I have heard that the Great King intends to campaign south against Goryeo. I am unworthy, but I once traveled in Goryeo for many years, and of the two hundred lads under me, many are brave men who fled north from Goryeo. Now, at the end of my road, I come to offer my service. I beg the Great King to show mercy and let bygones be bygones."

Murong Xinzhang's face turned solemn. He looked at Gao Song and asked: "Who told you that I intend to campaign south against Goryeo?"

"Benefactor, this man is the son-in-law of Wang Geon, the former king of Goryeo. Around Hengzhou (present-day Ji'an, Jilin Province), there are many members of the Gao clan. What the Great King is doing can be hidden from the Goryeo people to the south, but it absolutely cannot be hidden from this man."

Master Cixian said with a chuckle. Lately, Li Hanqiong, under Murong Xinzhang's command, had been making quite a stir in Hengzhou.

Gao Song seized the chance to bow once more to Murong Xinzhang. "Great King, the Wang clan's Goryeo is no soft persimmon. As far as your servant knows, Wang Geon and his sons, and indeed the whole Goryeo court, harbor ambitions to move north. Inside and outside Hengzhou, Goryeo spies are by no means few."

Murong Xinzhang stared hard at Gao Song. "Then by your judgment, the Goryeo sovereign and his ministers should already know of the Hengzhou matter, is that right?"

A trace of self-satisfaction appeared on Gao Song's face. "They do not know, because your servant concealed it on the Great King's behalf.

Your servant's family comes from the Gao clan of Balhae. Around Hengzhou there are still twenty thousand of our tribesmen. As long as we are willing, not a single Goryeo spy will ever reach the banks of the Yalu River."

"Ha ha ha!" Murong Xinzhang looked at Gao Song and burst out laughing. What damned "Gao clan of Balhae" — these were Mohe slaves from the kingdom of Balhae who had attached themselves to the Han surname Gao.

Moreover, this "Gao clan of Balhae" had never been a great Han-Jin aristocratic house to begin with; it was a prestigious clan built up through the constant social climbing of men like Gao Huan of the Northern Qi and Gao Jiong of the Sui dynasty.

However, Murong Xinzhang immediately perceived Gao Song's true intent. The fellow was telling him that he desperately wanted to be a Han, and was very willing to serve him, or the Emperor.

Thinking of this, Murong Xinzhang studied Gao Song appraisingly and said slowly: "Do you very much want to be a Han?"

Note! Murong Xinzhang used "Han" and not "son of Tang" — there is a difference between the two.

Someone like Qibi Heli or Ashina Simo could be called a son of Tang, but you could not call him a Han. Even Murong Xinzhang himself was the same — he was a son of Tang, but could not yet fully be called a Han.

Hearing Murong Xinzhang ask this, Gao Song slowly bent down, and then, right there on the snow, performed the full prostration of the five-points-touching-the-ground before Murong Xinzhang.

"I do! I dream of it! Great King, your servant truly comes from the Gao clan of Balhae. I beg the Great King to grant this."

Why did Gao Song now so desperately want to be a Han? Naturally, for his own wealth and rank, and for his family's prosperity.

"Your servant's Gao clan was once a great house of the kingdom of Balhae, and was unfortunately destroyed by the Khitan.

When your servant grew up, for the fate of the Gao clan I served the Khitan, became son-in-law to Wang Geon, king of Goryeo, and after many turns and many setbacks, ended up with nothing.

This year your servant reflected painfully on all this and realized that the reason I have accomplished nothing is that I had never met a worthy lord.

Now that I have beheld the Sage and the Great King, father and son, in their heroic vigor and world-devouring grandeur, it is as if the clouds have parted and I see the sun.

Your servant is old and feeble, unworthy to serve the Sage himself, but if I may serve under the Great King's command, this life will have been enough!"

These were Gao Song's words from the heart. What kind of man was Gao Song? He was a Balhae man, with twenty or thirty thousand kinsmen still by the Yalu River. Why had he jumped back and forth between sides? Precisely to cling to a powerful patron.

At first he was unwilling to serve under the Khitan, for the kingdom of Balhae had been destroyed by the Khitan, so he fled to Goryeo to serve Wang Geon.

Wang Geon did marry his daughter to him, but compared with the Khitan, Goryeo was still too small a stage, so he ran back to the Khitan and served under Yelu Abaoji and his son.

But what came of it? When they marched south into the Central Plains, he was beaten soundly by Zhang Zhao time and again, and this opened Gao Song's eyes.

Sure enough, the thickest, sturdiest golden thigh in all the world was still the Celestial Court of the Central Plains!

He truly learned from his pain and reflected hard on the causes of his failures over the years, and in the end he actually found a path.

Since the Zhou kingdom of the Central Plains was the biggest thigh of all, why not cling to Zhou's thigh and follow them to strike the kingdom of Goryeo?

He could not beat the Khitan grandees, and the Celestial Court's great army of Zhou was even more beyond his strength, but going south, into the territory of Wang's Goryeo, shouting "Aish!" and slapping the faces of those Baekje and Silla lowlifes — that he could do!

Gao Song was almost forty. If he did not cling to a thigh soon and find a place to enjoy himself, who knew when his eyes would close and he would be gone. Would that not be a bitter injustice?

And his clansmen — twenty thousand of them crammed into the mountain forests south of Hengzhou, living and eating no better than dumb roe deer. If he did not lead them to a good place soon, they would turn into wild men.

Human feelings can be shared, and the emotion Gao Song felt at this moment could not be faked at all. Murong Xinzhang could feel it completely.

He looked at Gao Song, prostrated on the ground, and at Murong Yanchao and Helian Hailong, who watched him full of hope.

These three were all bear-and-tiger generals, each a match for ten thousand men! Gao Song also had the talent of a commander — even in the Khitan realm he had been one of the foremost famous generals.

Helian Hailong still had more than three thousand followers in his hands, and Gao Song could gather twenty or thirty thousand Balhae survivors. These were all things Murong Xinzhang needed.

And then there was this Master Cixian. If he could help him, the work of pacifying the Khitan people could be done with half the effort.

"Master, the three of them each have their own needs. What is yours?"

The only uncertainty now was this Master Cixian. Why would he risk coming to involve himself in this matter? It even seemed he was eagerly delivering resources to Murong Xinzhang. It was truly hard to fathom.

Master Cixian gave a bitter smile, the image of an enlightened eminent monk completely gone. He pointed at his own heart and said, "This old monk, too, has been possessed by a heart demon!

In the past, when Yanshou returned to Hangzhou, I said he would face the calamity of surging waters. How laughable that this poor monk, after entering meditation for ten days at the Great Xingshan Temple, also fell prey to the demon.

This poor monk only wished to go and meet the Unsurpassed Dharma King, to ask him whether the Eastern Videha Continent is real or false, whether the Buddha truly left treasures on the other shore to relieve the world's hunger and suffering, and whether the waters of the vast deep truly exist."

As Master Cixian spoke, his eyes grew fervent yet unfocused, and his gaunt body seemed about to topple in the wind and snow.

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