Coveting

Forget it; thinking about these things now is completely useless.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat cross-legged and began to clear his thoughts.

He had already checked the two bright lamps at the cave entrance; they would last for at least another three hours.

This meant he did not need to worry about the threat of the Shadow Walker outside for the time being.

As for why Zhu Yuanzhang considered the Incense Army to be the rebel force with the greatest influence on later generations among the Red Turban Army.

It was not because this armed force was particularly formidable.

When all was said and done, compared to the Red Turban Army of Liu Futong and Xu Shouhui, the Incense Army was not even in the same league.

They were at the level of being easily crushed by a casual kick from the Great Yuan imperial court.

As for why he believed the Incense Army had such great influence, that was purely a personal factor.

When Zhu Yuanzhang was in high school, his teacher's entire family practiced the "Great Incense Stake."

They even brought the students along to practice during their spare time.

It was claimed to cure illnesses if one was sick and promote health if one was well.

And this so-called Incense Stake originated from this very Incense Army under Peng Yingyu.

Zhu Yuanzhang suppressed the urge to practice the Incense Art for the moment and began to contemplate the current situation.

"The Incense Army sent people to infiltrate Imperial Awakening Temple, seeking a precious treasure."

"A treasure that had been passed down to Imperial Awakening Temple since the fall of Yinglong Temple, held for sixty years, and sufficient to carve out a territory to rule."

"And there was a reason why Peng Yingyu dispatched Zhao Zhen to infiltrate Imperial Awakening Temple."

"Because that treasure was nothing else but a great destiny capable of defying the heavens and changing one's fate."

"Moreover, it was best if it were a descendant of the Zhao Song imperial lineage, as they would be more favored by it."

"Even if that failed, it didn't matter; as long as Zhao Zhen could temporarily trap everyone in Imperial Awakening Temple, Peng Yingyu and Zhou Ziwang, who were arriving shortly, would personally seize this 'Legacy of the Zhao Song'."

Zhu Yuanzhang opened his eyes.

The more he recalled the descriptions of this great destiny in the letters between Zhao Zhen and the Incense Army, the stranger his expression became.

"A sixty-year cycle," "great destiny"—this seems to be talking about... the role I am playing in the secret history, right?

Wait? Why they needed to kill every monk who entered the temple in the third year of Zhizheng also seems to be explained.

Because Minghe never actually died, because Minghe is me! I am Minghe!

If they don't kill Minghe, if they don't shatter the vessel, they will never be able to obtain this blessing.

A flash of realization crossed Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes.

But then, he frowned again.

The schemes of the White Lotus Sect and the Incense Army were clear.

But the problem was... what about Imperial Awakening Temple... no, what about Yinglong Temple?

Where were the arrangements made by Minghui, Mingguang, and the others?

"Forget it. Since the second act has already begun and a new round of secret history has been discovered, it is time to leave just as in history. I still know too little information, and this is not the right time for a head-on collision with the Incense Army."

Zhu Yuanzhang stood up and stretched toward the Shadow Walker, which was the incarnation of the monk Zhao Da at the cave entrance.

Watching the Shadow Walker stare at him unblinkingly with its pure white eyes, Zhu Yuanzhang took a deep breath.

"After all, the true mastermind behind the Incense Army, Peng Yingyu, the leader of the Jiangxi White Lotus Sect, will be here soon."

"Before I am certain of the opponent's strength, it is better to slip away first."

Peng Yingyu, known as Monk Peng, was a native of Yuan Prefecture.

He was a general under Xu Shouhui of the Red Turban Army at the end of the Yuan Dynasty and the founding ancestor of the Southern Red Turban Army.

He organized multiple uprisings at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, and after he was defeated and killed, most of his disciples defected to Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhang Shicheng, becoming the backbone of their armies.

"After all... there will be plenty of time in the future."

"This might be the only chance Peng Yingyu has to intercept me, considering he and his troops are currently being hunted by the Mongol general Huonichi."

Zhu Yuanzhang walked toward the cave entrance.

Under the gaze of the Shadow Walker's pale eyes, Zhu Yuanzhang moved the two large jars beneath the torch, poured the Corpse Incense Tribute from both into a single earthenware pot, sealed it, and strapped it to his back, preparing to pack it away.

"Roar!"

As the Shadow of the Dingguang Buddha extinguished, the Shadow Walker let out a threatening roar at the sight of Zhu Yuanzhang, yet it did not immediately pounce.

Instead, it retreated step by step with extreme caution, a sharp contrast to the mindless state it had been in when it chased Zhu and the others into the cave.

"Realized something is wrong? But now that you want to leave... is it still in time!"

The Shadow of the Dingguang Buddha manifested behind Zhu Yuanzhang; seemingly attracted by the "Corpse Incense Tribute" on his back, the true fire stirred impatiently.

However, Zhu Yuanzhang did not use the Shadow of the Dingguang Buddha.

Instead, he assumed the stance of the Mountain-Shrinking Fist.

"Shrink Mountain!"

Following Zhu Yuanzhang's low shout.

Surging fist shadows appeared before Shadow Walker in an instant.

Zhu Yuanzhang heard the sound of ocean waves! The sound of massive waves! The sound of waves recklessly crashing against jagged reefs!

BOOM!

Zhu Yuanzhang retracted his fist.

The Shadow Walker before him stumbled back two steps, looking down at his own chest in disbelief.

A bowl-sized wound had appeared on his chest.

It revealed shriveled muscle fibers and atrophied internal organs within.

"Weaker than I imagined."

Zhu Yuanzhang watched the Shadow Walker collapse and turn into dust, muttering to himself.

The reason he had used the Mountain-Shrinking Fist instead of the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing Art was precisely to test if there was another way to enter the second act.

After all, the opening kill performed by Mingshan in the Scripture Depository was simply too terrifying.

Zhu Yuanzhang did not believe for a second that his current strength could withstand it.

He guessed that perhaps when he finally mastered the Four True Fires one day, he might be able to tangle with him for a while.

But for now... it was better to look for another path!

"First, I'll find Master Gao Bin in the temple to get a certificate of ordination, then I'll head down the mountain immediately and hide in Hao Prefecture for a while."

"Whether it's Peng Yingyu... or Minghui and Mingguang, who might still be alive."

"If I can't beat them, surely I can at least outrun them?"

Zhu Yuanzhang made up his mind. He looked up at the Imperial Awakening Temple in the distance, which appeared gloomy and shrouded in thin mist.

"According to Zhao Zhen, he was already one of the strongest among this group."

"A total slaughter of noobs!"

"I love slaughtering noobs!"

"This Imperial Awakening Temple! It has truly fallen into decline!"

The familiar Mahavira Hall.

Several armed men stood in place, facing the visibly nervous monks of the Imperial Awakening Temple.

"That demonic monk Gao Bin has been severely wounded."

A member of the White Lotus Sect, dressed in white monk robes with a red cloth wrapped around his head and a large character for "Buddha" written on his chest and back—the traditional attire of the Incense Army—raised his hand and fired two silver flying shuttles, pinning a monk of the Imperial Awakening Temple firmly to the ground.

Following this, he drew his waist saber and brought it down in a clean strike.

Bright red blood sprayed out, and viscera and intestines splattered as the chosen monk of the Imperial Awakening Temple was sliced in two.

The remaining monks of the Imperial Awakening Temple watched this with grief and indignation, yet they were powerless to stop it.

"Junior Brother Wang!"

"White Lotus demons! To commit such wanton murder in the Mahavira Hall!"

"The Buddha will not forgive you!"

Someone cried out the name of the monk who had been cut in half.

They glared with hateful eyes at the few members of the Incense Army who had infiltrated the Imperial Awakening Temple.

Sensing the hateful gazes of the Imperial Awakening Temple disciples, a scarred member of the Incense Army frowned and raised his waist saber.

"Ignorant of the true scriptures, babbling about the emptiness of Buddhism; they are merely ants, pay them no mind."

The white-robed monk spoke with indifference, turning his head to look at the Incense Army soldiers beside him.

"I've finished my side, what about Zhao Zhen?"

"It is said that he only needs to finish off the last few people under Yuanhui to eliminate all the monks who entered the Imperial Awakening Temple in the third year of Zhizheng."

The scarred man replied.

He gritted his teeth, preparing to ask the white-robed monk if he had the confidence to deal with the monk Gao Bin inside the temple.

But he heard the white-robed monk sigh.

The white-robed monk turned around, looking at the mountain path behind him that was only wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side. He wiped his saber clean with his sleeve, his gaze locking onto a figure looming in the thin mist from afar.

A moment later.

He said.

"No need to wait for Zhao Zhen; it seems he has already fallen."