Coveted

Forget it. There was no point thinking about all that now.

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

He had checked the two lamps at the mouth of the cave. They would stay lit for at least three more hours.

This meant he didn't need to worry about the Shadow Walker outside the cave for the time being.

As for why Zhu Yuanzhang thought the Incense Army was the rebel force among the Red Turban Army that had the greatest impact on later generations—

It wasn't because the army was particularly powerful.

When all was said and done, the Incense Army was nowhere near the same level as the Red Turban forces led by Liu Futong and Xu Shouhui.

It was the sort of force the Great Yuan court could crush with a single kick.

As for why he thought the Incense Army had a great impact, that was purely down to personal experience.

When Zhu Yuanzhang was in high school, one of his teachers and his entire family practiced the Great Incense Stake.

He even led the students in practicing it after class.

He claimed it could cure illness if you were sick and promote good health if you weren't.

The so-called Incense Stake came from this Incense Army under Peng Yingyu.

Zhu Yuanzhang suppressed his urge to try practicing the Incense Art for a while and began to consider the situation at hand.

"The Incense Army sent someone to infiltrate Imperial Awakening Temple in search of a treasure."

"A treasure that had been passed down to Imperial Awakening Temple after Yinglong Temple was destroyed. It had been inherited for sixty years and was powerful enough to carve out a domain and rule it."

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

"Because that treasure is none other than a great destiny capable of defying fate and changing one's life."

"And it would favor someone with blood from the Zhao Song imperial family most."

"Even if that doesn't work, it doesn't matter. As long as Zhao Zhen can hold the people of Imperial Awakening Temple at bay for a while, Peng Yingyu, Zhou Ziwang, and the others will arrive and take this 'Legacy of the Zhao Song' with their own hands."

Zhu Yuanzhang opened his eyes.

The more he recalled how Zhao Zhen and the Incense Army's letters described this great destiny, the stranger his expression became.

"'Sixty years'... 'great destiny'... Isn't that talking about the role I play in the Secret History?"

"Wait. Does that also explain why they want to kill every monk who entered the temple in the third year of Zhizheng?"

"Because Minghe didn't actually die, even though they said he did. Minghe is me! I am Minghe!"

"If they don't kill Minghe and shatter the vessel, they'll never be able to claim this blessing."

A glimmer of understanding flashed in Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes.

But then he furrowed his brow again.

The White Lotus Sect and the Incense Army's plans were clear.

But what about Imperial Awakening Temple—or rather, Yinglong Temple?

What were Minghui, Mingguang, and the others planning?

"Forget it. The second act has already begun, and I've discovered a new Secret History. It's time to leave, just as I did in history. I still know too little, and this isn't the right time to confront the Incense Army head-on."

Zhu Yuanzhang stood and stretched in front of the Shadow Walker that had taken the form of Monk Zhao at the mouth of the cave.

The Shadow Walker stared at him without blinking with its pure white eyes. Zhu Yuanzhang took a deep breath.

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

"Until I know how strong he is, I'd better make myself scarce."

Peng Yingyu, known as Monk Peng, was from Yuan Prefecture.

He was a general under Xu Shouhui in the Red Turban Army at the end of the Yuan dynasty, and the founding patriarch of the Southern Red Turbans.

He organized several uprisings during the late Yuan dynasty. After he was defeated and killed, many of his disciples went on to join Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhang Shicheng, becoming key figures in their armies.

"After all... there's plenty of time."

"This may be Peng Yingyu's only chance to ambush me. He and his men are still being hunted by the Mongol general Huonichi, after all."

Zhu Yuanzhang walked toward the mouth of the cave.

Under the Shadow Walker's pale gaze, he moved the two large jars beneath the torch, poured the Corpse Incense Tribute from both into a single earthenware jar, sealed it, and slung it over his back to take with him.

"Roar!"

As the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing Art's true fire went out, the Shadow Walker let out a threatening roar at Zhu Yuanzhang, but didn't pounce right away.

Instead, it retreated cautiously, step by step—a stark contrast to its mindless pursuit of Zhu Yuanzhang and the others into the cave at the beginning.

"Realized something's wrong, have you? But is it too late to run now?"

The Shadow of the Dingguang Buddha appeared behind Zhu Yuanzhang. Seemingly drawn by the Corpse Incense Tribute on his back, the true fire stirred impatiently.

But Zhu Yuanzhang didn't use the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Fire.

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

"Mountain Shrinking!"

Zhu Yuanzhang let out a low shout.

In an instant, surging fists appeared before the Shadow Walker.

Zhu Yuanzhang heard the sound of waves! Huge waves! Waves crashing against the reefs with all their might!

Boom!

Zhu Yuanzhang withdrew his fist.

The Shadow Walker staggered back two steps, then looked down at its chest in disbelief.

A bowl-sized hole had appeared in its chest.

It exposed shriveled muscle fibers and shrunken organs within.

"Weaker than I expected."

Zhu Yuanzhang watched the Shadow Walker collapse and turn to dust, then muttered to himself.

He had used the Mountain-Shrinking Fist instead of the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing Art to test whether he could enter the second act another way.

After all, the opening killer in the Scripture Depository—the one Ming Shan had become—had been terrifying.

Zhu Yuanzhang didn't believe his current strength could withstand it.

He guessed that perhaps one day, after mastering the Four True Fires, he might be able to contend with it for a while.

But for now... he'd better look for another way!

"First, I'll find Master Gao Bin in the temple and ask for a travel permit. Then I'll head down the mountain at once 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, I can at least outrun them, can't I?"

Zhu Yuanzhang made up his mind and looked toward Imperial Awakening Temple in the distance, shrouded in mist and seeming gloomy.

"According to Zhao Zhen, he's one of the strongest among this group."

"A farmed-fish match!"

"I love farmed-fish matches!"

"Imperial Awakening Temple really has fallen into decline!"

The familiar Mahavira Hall.

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

"That evil monk Gao Bin is badly wounded."

A member of the White Lotus Sect dressed in the traditional style of the Incense Army—a white monk's robe, a red headscarf, and a huge character for "Buddha" on both the front and back—raised his hand and fired two silver darts, pinning a monk of Imperial Awakening Temple firmly to the ground.

Then he drew his saber and brought it down in a single stroke.

Blood sprayed, and guts and entrails flew everywhere. The monk of Imperial Awakening Temple they had targeted was cut in two.

The remaining monks of Imperial Awakening Temple watched in grief and fury, but were powerless to do anything.

"Junior Brother Wang!"

"You White Lotus heretics! How dare you kill people in the Mahavira Hall!"

"The Buddha will never forgive you!"

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

He glared hatefully at the Incense Army members who had infiltrated Imperial Awakening Temple.

Feeling the Imperial Awakening Temple disciples' hatred, a scar-faced member of the Incense Army frowned and raised his saber.

"They know nothing of the true scriptures and prattle about the emptiness of Buddhism. They're ants. Ignore them."

The White-Robed Monk spoke indifferently, then turned to the Incense Army members beside him.

"I'm done here. What about Zhao Zhen?"

"I heard he only has the last few people under Yuanhui left to deal with. Once they're gone, he'll have killed every Imperial Awakening Temple monk who entered in the third year of Zhizheng."

The scar-faced man answered.

He gritted his teeth, about to ask whether the White-Robed Monk was confident he could handle Master Gao Bin in the temple.

Then he heard the White-Robed Monk sigh.

The White-Robed Monk turned around and looked toward the mountain path behind him, the one that passed through the mountain gate and was only wide enough for two people to walk abreast. He wiped his saber clean with his sleeve and stared across the distance at a figure barely visible in the mist.

A moment later,

he said,

"Don't wait for Zhao Zhen. Looks like he's already been taken out."