Appointing Fates

If the previous time was due to a physical instinctual reaction that gave the game away, then why did he die again this time?

Choosing [Start Over], Zhu Yuanzhang thought to himself while the loading screen flickered.

"Divining fate..."

Zhu Yuanzhang briefly recalled the historical background surrounding Yang Lianzhenjia.

At this moment, the Great Yuan had just annihilated its two greatest rivals, the Great Song and the Mongol faction of Ariq Boke, placing it at the peak of its power—truly invincible across the world.

Kublai Khan had established his capital at Dadu, and the Mongol iron cavalry rampaged across the land.

As the true disciple of the Imperial Preceptor Phagpa and a favorite of the Great Yuan Chancellor Sangha, Yang Lianzhenjia had been appointed "Director of All Buddhist Affairs in Jiangnan," overseeing all religious matters in the region.

It was precisely by leveraging this position that Yang Lianzhenjia could find various excuses to destroy temples and excavate the imperial tombs of the Zhao Song dynasty, amassing vast amounts of wealth in the process.

However, judging by Yang Lianzhenjia's behavior, his visit did not seem to be for the purpose of plundering Imperial Awakening Temple.

"Divining fate for the imperial prince..."

Zhu Yuanzhang muttered to himself, recalling the words of Master Mingguang.

"What on earth is that thing?"

How exactly did he die?

Wait!

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly realized something.

From the moment he received permission to enter the hall, Yang Lianzhenjia's initial behavior had been perfectly normal.

It was only when Master Mingguang appeared and addressed him as "Envoy of the Chancellor" that Yang Lianzhenjia showed signs of vigilance.

"Hold on, could it be related to this title?"

"A disciple of Imperial Preceptor Phagpa, an envoy of Chancellor Sangha... these two identities, both applicable to Yang Lianzhenjia, actually represent two completely different factions."

"And Imperial Awakening Temple happens to be caught in the vortex of the struggle between these two powers, splitting into two camps because of it."

"No... that's not right. If I connect this to the earlier mention of divining fate for the imperial heir!"

"Then there are more than just two factions!"

"You have to realize! Besides his eldest legitimate son Zhenjin, the Yuan Emperor Kublai Khan had eleven other sons!"

Thinking of this, Zhu Yuanzhang's expression turned to one of shock.

He had been dragged into the Yuan Dynasty's succession struggle right from the start?

You damn system, are you playing with me!

The darkness receded... the light emerged.

Zhu Yuanzhang returned to the starting point.

Relying on his "stay silent and act aloof" strategy, Zhu Yuanzhang accompanied Yang Lianzhenjia back into the Mahavira Hall.

This time, however, Zhu Yuanzhang kept his head lowered, refusing to look even a fraction at the candlestick in Master Mingguang's hand.

"I come under the orders of the Imperial Preceptor."

Just as the "True Light" was about to swallow Zhu Yuanzhang, Yang Lianzhenjia stepped forward, seemingly having realized something. Countless blood-worms crawled out from his sleeves and surged toward Mingguang, his voice laced with cold intent.

Zhu Yuanzhang noticed that any blood-worm that touched the halo of light from the candlestick in Master Mingguang's hand turned to ash in an instant.

But Master Mingguang was not without his own losses; as the blood-worms launched their fearless, suicidal attacks, the lamp oil in the candlestick consumed itself significantly faster than before.

"Amitabha."

A sacred chant rang out, instantly separating the two who were locked in a stalemate.

The already dim Mahavira Hall seemed to grow even gloomier.

"Guests are to be treated with courtesy. Junior Brother Mingguang, how can you be so rude to a disciple under Imperial Preceptor Phagpa?"

Within the Mahavira Hall, all the light and shadows trembled and swayed, as if they were about to be snuffed out by some invisible force in the next second.

And amidst the dim light and shadows, a lotus throne emerged, and upon that throne sat a mummified corpse draped in a blood-red kasaya.

As the corpse raised its arm and pointed gently, the candlelight in Master Mingguang's hand extinguished abruptly, and even the "True Light" that had been blocking the path vanished along with it.

Master Mingguang let out a muffled groan, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth; he appeared to have suffered a significant injury.

"Hah!"

Yang Lianzhenjia gave a cold laugh, then stepped past the grim-faced Mingguang and walked toward the depths of the Mahavira Hall.

"Minghe... you come along as well."

That voice echoed in Zhu Yuanzhang's ears once more.

Zhu Yuanzhang sighed inwardly.

He knew that he would likely have to enter the eerie and unfathomable Mahavira Hall before him.

Imperial Awakening Temple, Mahavira Hall.

The interior of the hall was draped in red silk, the floor was paved with bluestone, and the walls were painted a milky white.

Zhu Yuanzhang caught a whiff of a rich, heady fragrance, and in a daze, he seemed to see hallucinations.

Countless celestial maidens descended from the heavens, their shoulder straps half-loosened, holding delicacies in their hands, smiling as they invited him to engage in dual cultivation.

"Minghe, recite the Great Wisdom Sutra; only then can you attain Prajnaparamita, realize supreme enlightenment, and cast off the influence of Mingguang's human-oil lamp upon you."

"Yes..."

After receiving the reminder from the desiccated corpse on the lotus throne, Zhu Yuanzhang pressed his palms together. As if by instinct, he circulated the Great Wisdom Zen Technique. In an instant, his mind cleared, and the hallucinations before his eyes vanished.

Even his body felt significantly more agile.

"Truly a fine talent; Master Minghui is worthy of being the Southern Dynasty's foremost monk."

Yang Lianzhenjia watched from the side as Zhu Yuanzhang recited the Treatise on the Great Wisdom, speaking in a tone that was neither masculine nor feminine.

"What do you mean?"

Hearing Yang Lianzhenjia's words, Zhu Yuanzhang, who had just been marveling at the miraculous nature of the Great Wisdom Zen Technique, felt a sudden surge of vigilance.

Is there something wrong with this cultivation technique?

In truth, Zhu Yuanzhang had felt something strange the moment he saw Mingguang.

As fellow monks of the "Ming" generation, why did Mingguang and Minghui possess such immense power?

Yet he, "Minghe," was like a piece of trash, easily slaughtered by others.

However, although suspicion stirred in his heart, Zhu Yuanzhang knew this was not the time for a showdown. Thus, after dispelling the illusions, he stood to the side as if he had heard nothing.

He stood as still as a stone statue.

Since he appeared to be on the side of the desiccated corpse before him, perhaps, with Minghui's protection, he could survive the night.

Zhu Yuanzhang thought to himself.

Yet for some reason, he felt a faint sense of unease, as if he had overlooked something.

"When will Master Minghui be able to cast a fortune for His Highness Zhenjin?" Yang Lianzhenjia asked with a hint of urgency, looking at the desiccated corpse seated on the lotus throne.

This was the first time Zhu Yuanzhang had seen this Tibetan demon monk display such anxiety.

So, Yang Lianzhenjia and Minghui are supporters of Crown Prince Zhenjin.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood in place, observing the two out of the corner of his eye, his thoughts in turmoil.

On the surface, Crown Prince Zhenjin, as the eldest legitimate son of Kublai Khan, stood firmly with the Han Confucian scholars amidst the power struggles between the Han, Mongol, and Hui factions, and thus held the greatest influence.

But thinking of the original course of history.

Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes darkened.

Although Zhenjin was the crown prince in the history books, he died of illness before he could ascend the throne.

The one who ultimately inherited Kublai Khan's throne was Crown Prince Zhenjin's third son, Temür.

He would become Emperor Chengzong of Yuan.

In other words.

Zhu Yuanzhang raised his eyes to look at the two men preparing to cast a fortune for Crown Prince Zhenjin.

If these two had come to seek a mandate of heaven for Crown Prince Zhenjin—

They were in for trouble!

"For this day, the temple has been preparing for a long time," the desiccated corpse named Minghui replied calmly. He then pointed to the altar table where a pure gold Buddha statue was placed and answered, "Please move the Maitreya Treasure Statue, and the drawing of lots may begin."

"There is no time to lose. Sangha has already petitioned the imperial court to revoke the Prince of Anxi's golden seal; their counterattack will surely come within a few days."

Yang Lianzhenjia replied as he took out a bone bowl from his robes, inlaid with turquoise, pearls, and jade, and poured all the bone tiles from behind the golden statue into the bowl.