Green Silk White Horse Comes to Shouyang

In an instant, nearly boundless light poured out from the White-Robed Monk.

Like a golden sun slowly rising.

Yet faintly, Zhu Yuanzhang heard the White-Robed Monk cry out in despair and defiance.

"No!!!"

The sun rose, and pain stabbed at his eyes. Zhu Yuanzhang instinctively closed them.

For a moment, he seemed to hear a fragmentary system notification coming from the dazzling Buddha-light before him.

[In the first year of Datong, the Emperor gave himself up at Tongtai Temple and changed the era name to Datong.]

[The ministers submitted memorials begging him to return to the throne. After three petitions, he agreed.]

"This is some part of this world's history, and it's connected to Dingguang Buddha—or, more accurately, to the spell the White-Robed Monk just lost control of."

As he looked at the text before him, a sudden realization dawned on Zhu Yuanzhang.

A scene seemed to suddenly enter Zhu Yuanzhang's mind.

Another cutscene!

"System, don't mess with me! I'm in the middle of a real-life showdown with the White Lotus Sect!"

To no avail.

Zhu Yuanzhang once again turned into an emotionless movie-watching machine.

Amid the Buddha-light born from the White-Robed Monk's self-detonation, the swaying figures gradually came into focus, eventually becoming an ancient, imposing temple.

The instant he saw it, three large characters flashed before Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes.

[Tongtai Temple]

In the Mahavira Hall, before countless golden Buddha statues, sat two figures clad in monk's robes.

The monk on the left wore splendid robes. His hair and beard were white, and his face was dignified and serene.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged monk in a patched robe. Though compassion showed between his brows, an irrepressible aura of killing intent lingered there too.

Names appeared above the old monk and the middle-aged monk.

[Bodhidharma] [Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan]

The middle-aged monk on the right let out a long sigh and shifted his gaze from the oil lamp before the ancient Buddha, its body cast from gold, silver, and precious stones.

The construction of this temple had drained Southern Liang's strength, and it was filled with countless lavish decorations and gold and silver ornaments like these.

Even the copy of the Ode to Pure Karma in his hands had been specially treated with fragrant broth to prevent decay. It was usually kept in a jade box and worth a fortune.

Yet despite his devout worship of the Buddha, the middle-aged monk still had many unanswered questions as he faced the compassionate statue before him.

"May I ask you, venerable monk—"

"What merit have I earned by building temples and copying scriptures?"

At his words, the old monk lifted his eyes slightly. His blue-green gaze rested on the Emperor's earnest question, then he finally shook his head with resignation.

"No merit."

"How can there be no merit?" The middle-aged man's voice held confusion, anger, and resentment, as though he had been toyed with.

"These are but small rewards among men and gods, tainted sounds that follow one like a shadow. Though they exist, they are not real."

"Then what is true merit?"

The old monk's answer made the middle-aged man's eyes light up. He looked like a gambler who had wandered lost in the desert for days and had finally found an oasis, unable to contain his delight.

The old monk saw the change in the middle-aged monk's expression.

But his face remained impassive, as though he had already seen through the monk's karmic ties across nine lifetimes, past and present.

Nothing the middle-aged monk did could surprise him.

Closing his eyes and pressing his palms together, he answered as serenely as a lotus on the verge of nirvana.

"Pure wisdom, wondrous and complete, has a nature that is empty and still. Such merit cannot be sought in the world."

"Only then is it true and wondrous merit!"

The words had barely left his mouth—

Rumble!

Thunder crashed over Tongtai Temple!

A bolt of lightning struck one of its wooden pillars, and in an instant, fierce flames erupted.

Cries of "Fire!" rose one after another from the monks inside Tongtai Temple.

In an instant, the world spun!

The last thing Zhu Yuanzhang saw was the joy on the middle-aged man's face and the calm in the old monk's eyes.

Zhu Yuanzhang's vision went dark. When he opened his eyes again, his viewpoint had risen to a tremendous height, as if he were looking down on all living things with scorn.

The once magnificent Tongtai Temple had become a pile of broken bricks and rubble.

The raging fires in Jinling burned through the night. Their towering flames consumed the palaces of Southern Liang and the countless Buddhist temples south of the Huai River, reaching into the sky and forming a line of clear text.

[In the first year of Taiqing, Hou Jing executed Zhu Yi, the Chief of the Central Guards, Xu Lin, the Minister of the Imperial Treasury, Lu Yan, the Right Guard Commander of the Crown Prince, and Zhou Shizhen, the Director of the Palace Arsenal. He raised an army in Shouyang.]

[That night, he crossed the Huai Water and marched on Stone City.]

[Emperor Wu of Liang favored Buddhism and built three thousand magnificent temples, exhausting the wealth of the realm. Jinling's natural defenses could not even stop Hou Jing's mere eight thousand remnants.]

[Just five days later, Hou Jing captured Jinling and made Xiao Zhengde emperor. Emperor Wu of Liang starved to death in Taicheng.]

Everything before his eyes suddenly blurred.

The heaps of corpses, the temples reduced to ashes and broken bricks, and the tragic scene of Emperor Wu of Liang in his final moments all vanished.

Countless vengeful spirits rose into the air, tracing out blood-red words.

[Immersed in Buddhism, he loosened the laws and regulations, and exhausted the people's strength on pagodas and temples!]

[When he reached old age, the Hou Jing Rebellion came. Where was the Buddha's protection then?]

The system's cold notification rang in Zhu Yuanzhang's ears.

As merciless as ever, yet it seemed to be reminding him of something.

Golden text flashed before Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes.

[Time-limited Secret History triggered: Green Silk White Horse Comes to Shouyang]

[Historical setting: Hou Jing Rebellion]

[Objective: Leave Taicheng before the first day of the eleventh month]

[Reward: Dingguang Divine Mantra mastered]

At the words "time-limited," Zhu Yuanzhang froze for a moment.

Then he was overjoyed.

This was right up his alley!

Wasn't this a dungeon for farming limited-edition skill books?

So Secret Histories could be unlocked not only at special locations, but through special people and events too.

"Wait! How far did things get in the real world?"

"That blast from the White-Robed Monk didn't kill me, did it?"

He held his breath and focused.

Back to reality!

Pain! Unprecedented pain!

Zhu Yuanzhang looked down.

A rock as wide as a bowl was embedded in his stomach.

Blood poured from the wound, staining the rubble beneath him.

Half of the Mahavira Hall, along with the monks of the Imperial Awakening Temple who had been forced there by the Incense Army, had disappeared.

All that remained were a few Hero Fragments scattered among the ruins of the hall and a few tattered scraps of monk's robes.

"What a mess! At least I've still got... Mountain-Shrinking Fist."

Zhu Yuanzhang pushed aside the severed hand on his chest, gritted his teeth, and pulled the rock out of his stomach.

The bleeding wound was immediately covered with dark blue, fish-scale-like scabs.

Then an itchy, ticklish feeling spread through his abdomen, accompanied by a warm sensation like flowing water.

Once the wound on his stomach had healed, Zhu Yuanzhang let out a sigh.

He silently recited:

"Great Wisdom Zen Technique."

A dull, knife-cutting pain rose from the wound, and Zhu Yuanzhang sucked in a sharp breath.

The fish-scale scabs on his abdomen crumbled away like leaves falling in autumn.

When Zhu Yuanzhang looked down at his stomach again, the hideous patches of strange skin had fallen off, and tender new flesh had grown over the terrifying wound.

After finishing all this, Zhu Yuanzhang staggered to his feet.

A fearsome hunger gnawed at him.

"I'm starving."

Thinking of how he'd died about a hundred times since arriving in this world, fought countless battles, and still eaten only two buns, Zhu Yuanzhang couldn't help feeling a pang of sorrow.

Was life really supposed to be this miserable for a transmigrator?

But Zhu Yuanzhang quickly regained his composure.

After all, he was still in the middle of a one-life run, slaying demons and vanquishing evil.

He couldn't afford to let his guard down for even a moment.

Where was the White-Robed Monk?

Zhu Yuanzhang looked around.

He saw only a bloodstained scrap of white robe among the ashes at the blast's epicenter.

What a walking super bomb!

After confirming that the White-Robed Monk was thoroughly dead, Zhu Yuanzhang breathed a sigh of relief.

The good news was that the White-Robed Monk's out-of-control spell had killed all the Incense Army before he died.

The bad news was that all the monks from the Imperial Awakening Temple had been wiped out too.

"Where's Gao Bin? Don't tell me he got blown up too."

Zhu Yuanzhang felt the two blank ordination certificates on his chest.

"If he got blown up too, where am I supposed to find another abbot of the Imperial Awakening Temple to sign and stamp my ordination certificates?"