Chapter 628: Passing Each Other By

They had luckily avoided both drought and locust plagues here. Liaocheng, the seat of Dongchang Prefecture, was already a canal junction, and Linqing Subprefecture was a flourishing northern metropolis. Moreover, Dongchang was the smallest of Shandong's six prefectures. All things considered, it was no surprise it had managed to look this prosperous.

In Liaocheng, the prefectural seat, daily life still looked normal, and inns were open for business. Zhao Jin's party rested and reorganized there for a day, replenishing what needed replenishing at very fair prices, then continued pressing northward.

Time was actually very tight. The journey would take at least half a month, yet they had set out on the third day of the new year, and the capital exams began in the second month. Even if one only wanted to go and broaden their horizons, they still had to arrive early and make preparations.

After leaving Liaocheng, everyone's spirits relaxed considerably. Some of the younger household guards dozed off on horseback during the day, but Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing did not rein them in. After nearly ten days of tension, a few days of slack was only right. The road ahead might not be entirely safe, but it would at least be somewhat better than the stretch through Jining Subprefecture.

They had originally planned to rest comfortably for a night at Weijiawan, but just as they were settling in, they discovered several groups in the town harboring ill intentions. Once they strengthened their guard, however, the other side went silent. Even so, at first light the next day, Zhao Jin's party rode out fast with blades drawn and bows strung, heading straight for Linqing Subprefecture.

Indeed, they could not afford to be careless. Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing discussed it and decided that until they reached Tongzhou, the party would resupply in towns during the day and camp in the wilds at night. Stopping in villages and market towns like this, even if no one meant them harm, left too easy a trail. This time they sought absolute safety; comfort along the way was secondary. The key was to avoid all risk.

On the road from Weijiawan to Linqing Subprefecture, Zhao Jin's party traveled rather urgently. By the time the sun dipped west, they had already reached the outskirts of Linqing City.

The canal surface was frozen solid, but horses could not be walked on the ice after all. Linqing City lay on the canal's eastern bank, so Zhao Jin and his group chose to travel along the western bank. It had already been bitterly cold back in Xuzhou, and now they were heading even further north. The wind on horseback cut like a knife through bone. The mounts were covered in felt blankets, and the men wore felt hats that shielded their faces.

On the open road they could gallop freely, but near a city they could not ride too fast, lest they draw too much attention. This also served as a rest for the horses. Reaching this point, Zhao Jin and his men simply dismounted and led their horses on foot, breaking off pieces of the hard flatbread they carried against their chests to feed the horses as they walked, letting the mounts eat some solid fodder to replenish their spent strength.

The area outside Linqing City was much the same as the canal banks at Qingjiangpu—bustling and lively, clearly a place that had never suffered natural disaster or war. Zhao Jin and his group unconsciously slowed their pace, taking in the prosperous sights so different from those of South Zhili.

As they walked, they suddenly heard the clamor of gongs and drums from the opposite bank, punctuated by strains of string and woodwind music, followed by a boiling roar of voices. Many people there were loudly chanting the same phrase in unison.

The commotion made Zhao Jin and his men tense up and go on guard by reflex, hands moving to their weapons, ready to mount at once. But they quickly realized the noise and uproar were not directed at them. They could see common folk on this side of the canal stepping directly onto the ice to cross the river, running toward the opposite bank.

Looking toward the source of the sound in the distance, they saw people in colorful clothes at the front, carrying banners and flags of every hue. Others circled them holding incense, while some beat gongs to clear the way. The procession advanced along the street like this, and many of the commoners who had run over knelt and kowtowed at the roadside.

From south to north, this was the first time Zhao Jin and his companions had ever seen such a sight. Curious, they could not help but stop and stare.

"Isn't this just like the lantern festival parades back home?" one young household guard couldn't resist saying.

The moment the words left his mouth, Wang Zhaojing turned his head and shot him a fierce glare. The guard immediately lowered his head. Zhao Jin, direct as ever, simply grabbed a man running past and asked, "Fellow villager, what's going on over there? Why all the excitement?"

The man he grabbed looked to be in his thirties, a seemingly ordinary local resident. He appeared very impatient at being stopped, but Zhao Jin's felt hat masked his face, and he had the look of a fierce, imposing man. Coupled with the commanding aura of someone long accustomed to authority, it instantly cowed the man, who dared not show any irritation. He obediently replied, "You must be from out of town, sir. Today the Holy Maiden bestows blessings. The villagers are all rushing over to receive some good fortune, so the whole year will go smoothly."

When the man noticed the retinue of riders and the large number of horses behind Zhao Jin, he subconsciously switched to addressing him as "sir." Zhao Jin paused, then repeated, "Holy Maiden?"

"You wouldn't know, sir. Before Maitreya descends to the world, he first sends the Holy Maiden to sow blessings. When Linqing suffered plagues and disasters in previous years, we only pulled through thanks to the Holy Maiden's healing. Come along, sir. Spend a little money on incense, and blessings will come upon you." The resident actually began trying to persuade Zhao Jin.

Hearing the phrases "Maitreya descends" and "burn incense," both Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing suddenly understood. Wang Zhaojing murmured, "Zheng Quan." Zhao Jin nodded. In such a setting, they certainly could not utter the name "Smelling Incense Sect," lest they invite trouble.

"The Holy Maiden is coming, the Holy Maiden is coming! Sir, please be so kind as to let this humble one go, or I won't be able to squeeze through!" The resident was finally getting a bit frantic.

The chanting in unison from the opposite bank grew louder. Many people were prostrating themselves. They could see a sedan chair carried by eight men, topped with a wooden pavilion. Light gauze hung around the pavilion, and inside, a woman in colorful attire seemed to be seated upright. Young guards flanked the sedan chair, and further out were women carrying flower baskets. Commoners on both sides were handing silver coins to these women, receiving a stick of incense in return, then kneeling with it in their hands, utterly devout.

Zhao Jin released his grip. The resident immediately made to dash off. Wang Zhaojing fished out a small string of copper coins and tossed it over. The resident accepted it with profuse thanks and ran off without stopping, even taking a tumble on the ice, which drew laughter from Zhao Jin's party.

"Mount up and let's go. Our group stands out too much. Who would have thought the Smelling Incense Sect had such power here? Let's ride out quickly to be safe," Zhao Jin called to everyone.

They answered in unison and swung into their saddles. Zhao Jin flicked his reins and moved forward. They could not ride off too urgently or quickly at first, or they would again be too conspicuous.

"Brother, Zheng Quan did mention that the Smelling Incense Sect likes to find lonely, destitute young women and dress them up as Holy Maidens, borrowing from the tale of a fairy descending to the mortal world. They prop one up, pair her with a few skilled preachers, and can quickly take over entire subprefectures and counties, raking in huge offerings. I just never imagined they'd have one even in a wealthy place like Linqing Subprefecture, and with such grandeur. Who knows how much silver they can squeeze out," Wang Zhaojing said, riding up beside Zhao Jin and chatting idly.

Though Zhao Jin's horse column was not moving fast at the moment, they had already spread out front and rear, ready for battle. Zhao Jin was not particularly tense. He just said in a muffled voice, "Shandong is the Smelling Incense Sect's foundation. Their roots are planted in the Three Eastern Prefectures, and they constantly draw in believers from the Three Western Prefectures, steadily amassing strength."

"In every dynasty, cults like this always end up rebelling. Judging by the Smelling Incense Sect's behavior, they're heading straight down that path. The only question is when they'll make their move," Wang Zhaojing remarked with feeling.

Zhao Jin chuckled. Frost had already formed on his felt hat. He said in a muffled voice, "They'll probably come to our Xuzhou too. When the time comes, we'll likely have to clash with them again."

With that, Zhao Jin waved his hand, signaling the column to speed up slightly. He turned his head for another look at the procession now receding into the distance. The sedan chair raised high above the crowd was very conspicuous. Zhao Jin was always curious about novel things, and now he felt a slight regret in his heart, wishing he had gotten a better look.

But curiosity was one thing; he could still distinguish what was important. After glancing back a few times, his party rode off into the distance along the canal bank.

Mu Shulan sat upright on the sedan chair. In such freezing weather, only thin gauze screened the pavilion. To maintain the image of the Holy Maiden, her clothing could not be too thick or bulky, so it was relatively light. Yet Mu Shulan did not feel particularly cold, because a ring of white-copper charcoal braziers was arranged around her seat. Before setting out, they had been filled with a precisely measured mix of charcoal. As long as she completed the route as planned, from the moment she left the door to the moment she re-entered, she would not feel the cold at all.

In fact, Mu Shulan even had to leave gaps in the gauze; otherwise, the heat was stifling. When she first began these processions, Mu Shulan had been very nervous. Having done it many times now, she was quite composed. She knew to keep a gentle smile on her face at all times, knew when to sit upright and when to part the gauze curtain and scatter the mind-clearing medicinal pills prepared by the herbal shop, and even when to halt the procession to take in the destitute and suffering.

These acts, done too frequently, lost their sense of rarity and divine mystery. One had to grasp the rhythm well; only then would the devout incense-offerers below become frenzied and ecstatic, only then would they spend money to buy incense and talismans.

Every year at this time, she would make one procession before the Lantern Festival. The harvest along the way was not just the devout hearts of believers. The income from selling incense and talismans could match a normal month's take. Moreover, because of this procession, wealthy households in Linqing Subprefecture and even from Liaocheng and Gaotang Subprefecture would donate and contribute money. Some sought career advancement, others vied for prestige and to outdo rivals. That sum of money was even more staggering.

But Mu Shulan also knew very well that the bulk of that silver was divided up by her second uncle and fourth uncle. She could only take a small portion, which, together with the subsidy from Inspector Li's family, was barely enough to support the boys and girls under her care.

Mu Shulan looked at the youths guarding the sedan chair and could not suppress a smile. Though the silver spent was considerable, it was entirely worth it. Not only had she saved lives, but she finally had people she could rely on. In this Linqing Subprefecture, the more someone belonged to the Mu clan, the less they could be trusted.

She should never have left with her second uncle back then. She should have gritted her teeth, cried, and insisted on staying in Xuzhou. Knowing Brother Xiaojin's nature, he would certainly have taken charge and let her stay. But now, now it was all too late.

The girl in the sedan chair took a deep breath. This was something Zhao Jin had taught her back then, saying this method could calm one's heart. It really was useful. She had these youths as her confidants now, but she also had to maintain a proper sense of measure. The surveillance was growing stricter by the day. These boys and girls could not leave the place where she lived; they could only move as a group. If they tried to leave Linqing City or go any farther, the Mu family would resort to murder.

Thinking of the two youths she had sent out made Mu Shulan's heart ache. Although those two had been willing to die for her, and under torture had only said they wanted to go home, never implicating her, Mu Shulan still could not let it go. The Incense Master who had helped her gather information was already too afraid to show his face...

Amid the chanting and the clamor of gongs and drums, Mu Shulan quickly collected herself. She had to maintain the current situation; otherwise, even greater trouble would follow.

Faintly, she heard the sound of hoofbeats. Sitting in the sedan chair, Mu Shulan looked in the direction of the sound. On the opposite bank of the canal, a horse column was departing. The riders were wrapped up tightly, even their heads and faces hidden in felt hats. Perhaps merchants from out of town. Mu Shulan glanced at them, then turned her attention back.

After a day of procession, it would be dark by the time she returned to her residence. She would have no mind to think of anything else. Mu Shulan steadied herself and sat up even straighter. After all, it was only a few times a year. Once settled, Mu Shulan looked back again. The horse column had already gone far. In this season, such a party appearing in Linqing Subprefecture was indeed uncommon. The man at the lead was tall and powerfully built; ordinary households did not produce such a stature...

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