The Terror of Taicheng

Where did all the salt in Taicheng go?

This was a mystery.

But as for who was pulling the strings behind the scenes, the answer seemed self-evident to Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan."

"To be able to move the entire city's supply of salt out of Taicheng out of thin air, such a method is truly..."

No, that was wrong.

He thought of the severe abdominal bloating and edema seen in the refugees who had been moved into Jiankang Palace.

That was certainly not something that could be caused by merely cutting off salt intake for a few days.

Generally speaking, the cycle of chronic salt deficiency usually takes about several weeks.

From persistent fatigue and unsteady walking to muscle spasms and abdominal swelling... as long as one does not engage in prolonged, strenuous exercise, the loss of salt from the body is destined to be a long process.

Yet, the symptoms of those Jiankang refugees were as if something had instantly drained all the salt from their bodies.

"Is this right? Is this still the Northern and Southern Dynasties?"

"Physics has ceased to exist!"

Unable to make sense of it, Zhu Yuanzhang tossed aside the grain sack in his hand and draped his tiger-skin monk's robe over his shoulders.

He rummaged through the ruins of the three meditation rooms, searching for any weapon he could use.

He needed to prepare for Consort Ding of Hualin Garden and that large black eye that had abducted Prince of Yuzhang, Xiao Dong.

From the meditation room of Zen Master Faming, Zhu Yuanzhang unearthed a monk's staff.

The staff was seven feet and nine inches long, gilded all over, and covered in layers of cloud-dragon patterns.

Zhu Yuanzhang tried swinging it with one hand; it was very heavy, at least seventy or eighty jin.

Zhu Yuanzhang found it difficult to control with one hand.

He would likely need both hands to wield it perfectly.

"Mountain-Shrinking Fist!"

Zhu Yuanzhang whispered softly.

He then switched into his Deep One form.

This time, when Zhu Yuanzhang swung it with one hand, it felt as easy as moving his own arm.

"Very good."

Zhu Yuanzhang deactivated the Deep One form.

He then used two strips of cloth to strap the staff to his back.

By the moonlight, Zhu Yuanzhang looked at his palm.

Even though he had deactivated the Deep One form, his right index finger still remained a bluish-gray color.

It secreted a viscous oil, and the fingernail had transformed into an ugly growth of deep black scales and webbing.

Zhu Yuanzhang tried to reverse the abnormality on his finger.

However, it had no effect whatsoever.

The change was irreversible.

This was rather bad.

Looking at his little finger, which had completely transformed into that of a Deep One, Zhu Yuanzhang's heart sank.

He suddenly realized something.

The seemingly harmless Mountain-Shrinking Fist was likely far more dangerous than the Dingguang Demon-Subduing True Fire.

Without a sufficiently profound foundation in the Great Wisdom Zen Technique, his transformation into a Deep One via the Mountain-Shrinking Fist was practically a certainty.

And at this speed! It was likely much faster than the rate at which the Dingguang Demon-Subduing True Fire would burn away his lifespan!

"To be safe, I must prioritize improving the Great Wisdom Zen Technique in the real world."

"Before doing anything else."

Zhu Yuanzhang made up his mind.

He then strode forward with long, purposeful steps, heading in the direction of Jiankang Palace.

He was going to see Fu Qi.

Let us try one more time to see if we can successfully bring Prince of Yuzhang Xiao Dong to the Grand Marshal Gate.

Leaving Jiankang Palace.

However, he did not get far.

Suddenly, Zhu Yuanzhang stopped in his tracks.

"Something is wrong."

His mind raced, recalling the scenes of his meetings with Fu Qi and Yang Kan.

"If Xiao Yan had cast some kind of spell to erase all the salt in Taicheng,"

"Then why did Yang Kan appear completely unaffected?"

"And why was the impact on Fu Qi so minimal?"

"He truly seemed like nothing more than an old man who had gone three days without salt and felt a bit weak."

A terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in Zhu Yuanzhang's mind.

"Could it be that the deprivation of salt from the body was actually selective from the very beginning?"

"Perhaps the princes and ministers were spared to maintain stability within the city, hence the minimal impact."

"And perhaps the garrison commanders were left untouched because they were needed to repel the siege by Hou Jing."

Thinking of this, Zhu Yuanzhang took a deep breath.

He looked up and gazed once more at Jiankang Palace.

In a Taicheng where supplies were scarce and even firewood was in short supply, Jiankang Palace remained brightly lit.

It stood like a lighthouse in the darkness.

Yet, it could no longer provide Zhu Yuanzhang with any warmth.

Instead, it sent a faint chill through his heart.

After all, if his hypothesis was correct, Then from the very beginning, The fate of everyone in Taicheng had already been quietly sealed.

"The common people of Jiankang will die in agony, one after another, from hunger, cold, and disease."

"The princes and ministers will suffer the same, only a little slower."

"Because once the commoners are dead, these administrators will be completely useless."

"They will be nothing but liabilities."

"As for the soldiers and generals, they must fight to the death against the Xianbei barbarians and the slave soldiers Hou Jing plundered from Huainan, all while under the siege of Hou Jing's massive army."

"With the feudal lords' reinforcements watching coldly from outside the city, the defenders inside—whether they surrender to Hou Jing or vow never to yield—"

"Are equally doomed."

"The only difference is,"

"Whether they die at the hands of Hou Jing's army before Taicheng falls,"

"Or later, when Hou Jing is defeated and the feudal lords launch a massive purge of those who surrendered, all to demonstrate their loyalty to Xiao Yan."

"What a godforsaken court, what a godforsaken emperor."

"Absurd, it is absolutely f***ing absurd!"

"No matter what the people inside Taicheng do! They are destined to die!"

Zhu Yuanzhang steadied his mind.

[Name: Zhu Yuanzhang (Minghe Monk)]
[Occupation: Investigator, Tongtai Temple Monk (Disguised)]
[Status: Beset by Misfortune, Certain Death]
[Skills: Great Wisdom Zen Technique (1st Layer Complete), Mountain-Shrinking Fist (2nd Layer), Dingguang Demon-Subduing True Technique (1st Layer), Buddha Speaks of the Soapberry Sutra (Fragmented), Sangqiwo Jataka Sutra (Fragmented)]
[Equipment: Tiger-Skin Monk Robe, Demon-Subduing Vajra Pestle]
[Note: Green Silk White Horse Comes to Shouyang!]

Looking at the "Certain Death" in his status bar, Zhu Yuanzhang began to understand why the system rated Taicheng—a place guarded by heavy troops that historically held out for over a hundred days before falling—as even more dangerous than Yinglong Temple.

Furthermore, Looking at the [Buddha Speaks of the Soapberry Sutra (Fragmented)] and [Sangqiwo Jataka Sutra (Fragmented)] displayed by the system, Zhu Yuanzhang's expression turned thoughtful.

The system did not display the Fixed Light Demon-Subduing Secret Mantra.

Furthermore, he had only mastered the Sangqiwo Jataka Secret Mantra and the Buddha-Spoken Soapberry Secret Mantra.

He had not practiced the two scriptures themselves.

Yet, according to the system's judgment.

He had somehow mastered the fragments of those two scriptures.

In other words, the system did not consider the secret mantras to be true cultivation techniques.

They were merely a functional part of what these scriptures inherently possessed.

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression turned thoughtful.

Did this mean that if he brought the practice of these secret mantras to perfection.

It would be equivalent to him directly mastering these fundamental Great Arts of Buddhism?

But what use would that be?

Zhu Yuanzhang shook his head, deciding to stop dwelling on this question.

Right now, the most pressing matter was to rendezvous with Fu Qi as quickly as possible.

Today was already the twenty-eighth day of the tenth lunar month.

There were only three days left until the first day of the eleventh lunar month, when Xiao Zhengde, with the assistance of Hou Jing, would usurp the throne and the mission would conclude.

Time was running out for Zhu Yuanzhang.

He had to act as soon as possible.