Chapter 15

Rong Tang pauses, and his expression involuntarily turns chilly.

Shuang Fu is confused: “Young Master?”

“It’s nothing.” Rong Tang puts down the Anhui ink he is holding and enters the bedroom.

“What is this? Heavenly Law’s self-modification?” Rong Tang asked.

Compared with the previous life, when he’d begged all the way to Princess Duanyi’s Palace in order to rescue the male protagonist from the cold palace, Sheng Chengli didn’t come out until the twenty-ninth of the second month of this life, which was indeed a bit late.

But compared to the first life… Rong Tang recalls that it had already passed the third month back then.

This time, it is even a few days early.

When he thought of this, he wants to laugh for some reason: “See, if I don’t accept any missions, what opportunities will the Heavenly Law give to its male protagonist?”

The system consumes energy to inquire about the status of others, but with regards to the male protagonist, it is just a matter of perspective.

The mainframe probably still has a sliver of hope for the host and hasn’t totally cut off the connection between the system and the protagonist.

[He was seriously ill and was about to die. Yuerong risked her life begging at the imperial physician’s compound, who alerted the Emperor. Only then was he released.]

Rong Tang frowned slightly upon hearing this.

Firstly, this illness is something he never experienced in his previous two lives. He doesn’t know whether this is a direct opportunity given by the Heavenly Law or a change brought about by the butterfly effect.

Secondly, it was due to Yuerong. Yuerong is the personal maid of the Fifth Prince’s concubine mother. She’d followed him all the way from Jiangnan to the capital. Sheng Chengli calls her Yue Mama. At the moment, she is the only one serving the male protagonist in the cold palace.

But in Rong Tang’s memory, this Yue Mama wasn’t a loyal servant. She had always wished that the Fifth Prince will die early so that she can choose a new master. It’s absolutely impossible for her to do any sort of move, like risk her life to beg at the imperial physician’s compound, for the sake of the male protagonist.

[Host……?] The system observes that he is deep in thought and asks spontaneously.

“It’s alright.” Rong Tang regained his senses. “Old habits.”

[Are you worried about the male protagonist?]

“?” Rong Tang was surprised for a moment, then smiled. “Me, worried about my enemy’s life and death?”

[…] The system didn’t say anything and went dormant again.

Rong Tang’s smile diminished again.

He didn’t sense wrongly. During this time, the system has been going dormant for increasingly longer periods. Rong Tang has a vague hunch in mind, but he is also afraid that this hunch would come true.

He unconsciously pinches his fingers and asks, “System?”

[Host, I am here.]

“What happens if I accept a mission?”

The system seemed to hang for a moment and then immediately resume its emotionless mechanical voice: [Don’t think about it anymore, host. Although your ultimate mission is to protect the male protagonist from being killed by Su Huaijing, throughout the process, the mainframe will still issue a series of compulsory missions for you to complete.]

[In this life, do you still want to help the male protagonist deal with the villain?] The system asks him.

Rong Tang fell silent.

This is the reason why he staunchly refuses to accept any missions.

The main reason for the collapse of the storyline in this universe is that Su Huaijing took the initiative to destroy the world after he ascends the throne, but the fundamental reason still lies with Sheng Chengli.

The protagonist chosen by the Heavenly Law is no longer in his place, and the sequence cannot be corrected. This is the reason why the system was born and Rong Tang has been pulled in to carry out missions.

Not only does he have to protect the male protagonist from being killed by Su Huaijing, he also has to save the male protagonist from the cold palace, fight for the emperor’s heir on his behalf, help the male protagonist win the hearts of the people and gain the emperor’s favour, and smooth the way ahead for him…

It’s so tiring. Positively, absolutely tiring.

There was a time in Rong Tang’s previous life when he didn’t even dare to sleep. He can’t remember how many officials, who clearly cared about the people, had fallen into his hands due to differing stances. Despite having absolute imperial power and receiving hidden threats from the system, he even had the luxury of conscience.

All he could do was try his best to permit them to leave the military and return to civilian life in order to preserve their lives.

As for the other things, Rong Tang wasn’t able to do it, and Sheng Chengli didn’t allow him to either.

……

Ultimately, the system still remained dormant. Rong Tang sat at the table and thought for a while, then went to the study to copy half a Buddhist scripture. After that, he couldn’t bear the body’s weakness and returned to the bedroom to sleep.

The next day is the thirtieth of the second month. At dawn, a series of majestic carriages drove from Duke Ningxuan’s Palace to the outside of the city.

Rong Tang hadn’t rested well and was still drowsy. Fortunately, the interior of the carriage is warm. Wang Xiuyu presumed that the journey would take a long time, so she added several layers of soft cushions to the seats in his carriage. After being smouldered by the warm charcoal smoke, Rong Tang fell asleep again.

Wang Xiuyu worries about Rong Tang’s health, so they would refresh on the spot every half an hour. With all the moving and pausing, it was almost sunset when the group entered the Buddhist temple.

Tuolan Temple is located on the west mountain outside the city. It is one of the oldest Buddhist temples in Dayu. Although it is not the national temple, its reputation is rather high. In the hearts of the people, the monks of Tuolan Temple are living bodhisattvas who save people from suffering.

Today is the beginning of the month and the day of offering incense. Countless carriages coming from the capital are decorated with incense pouches and golden bells. Rong Tang is afraid of bumping into any noble ladies, so he keeps the carriage doors closed all the way and only opens a small gap at the top of the window to allow the charcoal smoke inside the carriage to escape.

The side rooms of Tuolan Temple are also divided into several areas. There are so many people coming from Ningxuan Palace this time that they occupied two courtyards.

In one courtyard are Wang Xiuyu, Rong Tang, and his two half-sisters; in the other courtyard are the second aunt, her three daughters, and her son, who has just turned three-years-old.

Rong Tang doesn’t want to socialise much. Although he slept for a long time during the day, sleeping in a moving carriage isn’t terribly comfortable after all. As soon as he entered the temple, he fell asleep again and didn’t wake up until three quarters past the Xu period*.

(*TN: 7 p.m. to 9 p.m.)

At this time, the people’s voices in the temple have waned. Rong Tang opened his eyes and lay there for a while, then put on his clothes and walked out with a lantern.

There are monks who perform evening school at the Songjing Pavilion. Rong Tang has been here before and knows the way. He moves quietly around people and locates a small corner, then casually picks up a cushion and joins the monks around him in reciting scripture.

During this period, the system appeared once and seemed to want to say something. When it saw him like this, it silently suppressed itself and returned. However, this time it didn’t go dormant again. Instead, it hopped around the map and curled itself up next to Rong Tang’s legs to listen noiselessly to him recite sutras.

By the time half the night passed, almost all the monks in the Songjing Pavilion have left. Only then did Rong Tang thump his already-numb legs before standing up and making his way to the side room.

The capital has gotten a lot warmer. It is no longer like the time when he first woke up, when he could faint from just standing in the cold wind for a second or two. However, the nighttime moisture is heavier, and the winds are still frigid. As Rong Tang walks, he passes by a lit room with simple furnishings: a portrait of Buddha, an incense burner, two offering candles, and a praying mat.

The door is open, and there is a young man in grey monk’s robes who is chanting sutras with his back to Rong Tang. His voice is soft, and his manner is calm.

Rong Tang’s initial reaction is that he is a monk from Tuolan Temple, but with another look, he notices that his head isn’t shaved. His long hair is gathered behind his back and nearly reaches the floor.

Rong Tang was a little surprised and raised his eyebrows.

Dayu believes in Buddhism, and every first day of the month is when married women and unwed ladies go to the temple to worship Buddha. The average man usually avoids this day. Only those who are young or in poor health, like Rong Tang, are likely to be brought along by the mistress of the family to conduct prayers together.

Presumably, it’s the same for this person. But for some reason, he hasn’t gone to Songjing Pavilion to recite at night but found a side room for himself instead.

But it has to be said that his place is truly very peaceful.

Rong Tang takes a second look, then withdraws his gaze, returns to the side rooms, and continues to sleep. This time, he is even in the mood to think about Su Huaijing’s plan before going to bed.

He has an inexplicable trust in Su Huaijing. He’s suffered setbacks after falling into his hands several times in his previous life, and he’s been lucky enough to trick him back a couple of times too. Rong Tang is thoroughly aware of how capable this man is.

Chen Feiyi’s matter isn’t hard to deal with. The only thing that he needs to pay attention to is the issue of public opinion. If he can make full use of his influence and expand on it, Chen Feiyi will turn out to be a good sword for Su Huaijing in the future.

If the main villain in the middle and later stages of his previous life is able to fool everyone in the capital until the extent that he is well known within three days, it’s a little too early in this life. Su Huaijing has only been in the capital for three months, and there have been many great changes in the past nine years. He can’t disclose his identity. This matter is actually a bit difficult to handle.

Since Rong Tang is outside the city, he is a little curious about what he can achieve, but he isn’t worried.

After thinking about it, he dozed off until the first glimmers of daybreak the next morning, and Shuang Fu called him to wake up. He went to offer the first incense with the Wang Fei and personally purchases a safety talisman on behalf of Su Huaijing.

Duke Ningxuan’s Palace donates a lot of merit money*, likely because the palace will be hosting a joyous event this month. The Wang Fei stays especially long this time. Everyone ended up remaining at Tuolan Temple for a whole five days.

(*TN: monetary donations made for religious or virtuous purposes to accumulate merit and good karma.)

Rong Tang copies Buddhist scriptures in his room during the day and goes to the Songjing Pavilion to recite scriptures at night.

These days persisted for three days. On the fourth night, he carried a lantern and walked towards Songjing Pavilion. As he passed by the side room with the door open, the man from inside is standing in front of the door and gazing upward at the moon. When he saw him coming over, he joins his palms, recites Buddha’s name, and asks in a warm voice, “Devotee, where are you heading to?”

Rong Tang also returned the greeting, “Songjing Pavilion.”

The man in the monk’s robe smiled: “Devotee is sincere. There’s no need to constrain yourself to specific locations. If you don’t mind the plainness of this place, why not chant sutras with this humble monk?”

Rong Tang was somewhat dumbstruck by what he called himself. He looked up and glanced inside the door. The praying mat where the man usually kneels has been moved a little to the left, and a newer praying mat has been placed on the right.

This place is closer than Songjing Pavilion, and there are far fewer people. Rong Tang considered it for a moment, then thanked him and agreed.

There was no conversation all night, and they recited for two hours without disturbing each other. Rong Tang quietly stood up and left from the rear side without notifying the other party, who also didn’t look up.

When the last day came, the man had already started chanting sutras. There is an empty praying mat next to him, and his waterfall-like long hair is scattered behind him. Under the glow of the new moon, he doesn’t resemble a monk, but like a deity who’s strayed into the mortal world.

Rong Tang doesn’t presume. He merely bows a little in greeting at the doorway, then walks in, kneels in front of Buddha’s portrait, and starts chanting sutras.

He still recites for two hours before leaving, but as soon as he got up, the man calls out to him, “Devotee, please wait.”

Rong Tang’s steps pause as he glances at him. The other person has his eyes closed and doesn’t get up until he finishes reciting the last volume of scripture.

Inexplicably, as Rong Tang eyes his face, he detects a strange sense of familiarity emerge.

However, he’s never seen him in his previous life, and he doesn’t resemble anyone Rong Tang knows. If he is going to delve into it, he more resembles Buddha in the portrait.

It isn’t their looks that are similar, but rather the sense of extreme peace and gentleness they evoke. Yet it’s not akin to having experienced the vicissitudes of life; instead, it’s more like an indescribable tranquillity.

Rong Tang has died three times and is used to seeing life and death, but acknowledges that he himself isn’t as tranquil as him.

Moreover, this young man is only around thirty-years-old.

After the other party finished reciting the sutra, he stood up, joined his palms towards Rong Tang, and recited the Buddha’s name, then asked, “Devotee recites the sutra every night; what do you seek?”

Rong Tang appeared somewhat astonished. Monks are categorically detached from human desires and passions, paying no heed to the mundane world. Although the man in the monk’s robes before him hasn’t shaved his head, he is a true Buddhist disciple, yet he actually takes the initiative to ask him his thoughts.

Rong Tang can’t help but wonder: has he reached the point where all his thoughts are displayed on his face for the entire world to see?

He is little exasperated, but still answers truthfully, “Requesting peace of mind.”

The monk asks again, “Has this devotee ever done any deeds that weigh on your conscience in this life?”

Rong Tang then laughs: “Living in this world, for power, fame, life, and death, who dares say that they have never done anything wrong?”

The monk stares steadily at him and shakes his head. “Devotee is not this kind of person.”

“Master thinks too highly of me,” Rong Tang said.

“Those who really want something have their thoughts written on their faces. Reciting sutras and chanting Buddha’s name are merely anticipating that Buddha will satisfy their wishes.” The monk says, “But when this devotee recites sutras every night, there is no desire in your eyes.”

At this time, Rong Tang really wants to find a mirror and have a look at his own face. He wants to see what eyes devoid of desire are like.

“This humble monk and this devotee are predestined.” The monk smiles, leans forward, and removes the Buddha scroll from the wall under Rong Tang’s surprised gaze. He rolls it up, hold it in both hands, and hands it to Rong Tang. “I hope this devotee will accept it.”

Rong Tang inadvertently takes half a step back and frowns slightly. He glances sideways at the brickwork on the wall, where, all of a sudden, there is an empty spot left due to the lack of sunlight for many years.

He said, “This is a valuable item; I can’t accept it.”

But the other party said, “Devotee is a kind person. This item is fated for you. It chose you on its own.”

Rong Tang frowns and they remain deadlocked for a long time. In the end, he bows to receive it and asks, “Dare I ask this master’s name?”

“Huimian.”

Rong Tang is startled; his eyes widened a bit as he stares at Huimian, then feels himself rude, steps back, and bows courteously to Huimian: “Thank you, Master, for gifting this treasure.”

Rong Tang has heard the name ‘Huimian’ from his two previous lives. He is also familiar with the way to Tuolan Temple for the sake of helping the male protagonist find him.

In the original plot, Master Huimian’s heart encompasses the world, and his compassion is boundless. He is a true living Buddha. Emperor Renshou issued numerous orders inviting him to the imperial palace to perform rituals, but not once has he successfully persuaded this eminent monk over.

Moreover, in Rong Tang’s imagination, he ought to be a simple, peaceful old man of seventy or eighty years of age. He never expects him to actually be a young man, just over thirty, with long hair reaching his waist.

Rong Tang smiles bitterly to himself and tells the system, “Even if I’m able to come to Tuolan Temple another ten times, I still may not be able to invite him back.”

The system is clearly a little surprised. It pauses for two seconds before saying, [Stereotypes are unacceptable.]

Rong Tang can’t resist laughing, and he views Huimian with a little more respect.

He actually wants to ask why he gifts him the Buddha picture, but most likely he will get a “it’s fate” response. It will be troublesome to ask over and over again, so he simply stopped asking, turned around, and walked to the side rooms.

After he leaves, Huimian puts away one of the praying mats before kneeling again in front of the blank wall and slowly reciting the sutra. Under the silver moon, the three thousand fine black hairs behind him suddenly turn white, like snow blanketing the wilderness.

–

The next day is the fifth day of the third month. They still burn incense before heading back. The carriage moves and pauses all the way. It was already sunset when they arrive back at Duke Ningxuan’s Palace.

Rong Tang holds the safety talisman between his fingers. He noted that it was getting late, so it would be better if he goes looking for Su Huaijing tomorrow morning. But as soon as he gets out of the carriage, he runs into Duke Ningxuan: Rong Mingyu.

The Eldest Princess’s consort is previously the number one scholar, and Duke Ningxuan has inherited more of his features. He exudes an elegant and composed temperament with a jade-like visage which doesn’t look threatening when viewed from a distance.

He is dressed in court clothing, and there is a carriage parked at the door. It is likely that Emperor Renshou has summoned him into the palace to discuss matters.

Wang Xiuyu leads everyone to stand at one side to greet Duke Ningxuan. The latter came over in a few steps, holds Wang Fei’s hand, and releases it after two or three seconds: “Wang Fei has worked hard.”

A slightly girlish smile brims Wang Xiuyu’s face. Seeing it made Rong Tang feel a little distressed. He simply lowered his hands and glanced at the big stone lion on the side. His fingers pinches the safety talisman he obtained for Su Huaijing in his sleeve.

Unexpectedly, Rong Mingyu actually shifts his gaze over, with a deep voice and the look of a caring father: “The weather in the capital is sometimes hot and cold these days. After coming back this time, Tang’er shall not leave the house again. Accompany your mother at home to prepare for the wedding.”

Rong Tang paused. His gaze drifts from the bronze bell-like eyes of the stone lion at the entrance of the palace to Rong Mingyu’s eyes and slowly revealed a question mark. “?”

You want me to not meet with the villain for a full eighteen days?

Aren’t you afraid that he’ll suddenly turn black and destroy the country??