There Is a Traitor Among Us!

Former Village, Longxing County, Changle Commandery, Shu Region, Great Shun 955.

The winter chill was severe. The desolate autumn winds had grown increasingly harsh by now, resembling invisible swords and sabers that constantly slashed away at the vitality of the earth.

Yet even so, come early morning, the Blackheads of Former Village still bundled themselves tightly in their clothing, pushed open their doors, and stepped out into the bitter cold. Some of them were determined to head up the mountain to chop firewood, while others resolved to try their luck in nearby Longxing County city to see if they could find any work.

People converged upon the muddy village paths.

They said nothing. Even neighbors meeting one another merely nodded in mutual acknowledgment, simply because speaking would cause the biting cold wind to rush into their mouths.

The vast village remained dead silent.

Only the silent footsteps of the Blackheads and the whipping sound of the cold wind blowing could be heard, making the entire village resemble a frozen wild beast crouching deep within the mountain forest.

After reaching the entrance of the village, the crowd went their separate ways. Some went to the back mountain, some went to the county city, and another portion headed toward the north of the village.

A Daoist temple stood there.

The exterior of the Daoist temple did not look large, and could even be described as crude. Yet upon drawing closer, one could feel a wave of scorching heat rushing toward their face.

Upon entering the temple, one could see a huge incense burner placed right in the center. A large amount of charred stone was thrown into it and ignited, subsequently stirring up towering heat that dispelled the bitter cold of deep winter. The sound of human voices drifting from inside the temple made it the only place of vitality in this deep winter.

"Ah... comfortable!"

A few Former Village villagers walked into the temple and immediately let out a long sigh of relief. Following that, a young man draped in Daoist robes was seen walking out from the back courtyard.

"Are you all here?" the young Daoist asked.

"Greetings, Senior Brother Xie."

The villagers bowed one after another, their expressions carrying an indescribable fanaticism. Their hands intertwined to form a lotus-shaped mudra as they chanted in praise:

"The Lotus descends to the world, saving all living beings."

Hearing this, the young Daoist also formed a mudra with his hands and returned the bow, only then continuing, "Master has been waiting for you all for a long time. Follow me inside."

The group thus entered the back courtyard, only to see a full dozen or so men in the prime of youth inside. Sturdy as little calves—clearly eating meat at every single one of their three daily meals—they were drilling and practicing martial arts, shouting ha and hey with robust internal breath as they wantonly cast off their youth and sweat.

And the one responsible for leading them was a youth.

He was bare-chested, sweat rolling down his shoulders and back. His skin revealed a bronze luster under the sunlight, possessing clear contours and a handsome, refined face.

"Junior Brother, stop for a moment."

The young Daoist said in a loud voice, yet the youth did not respond. Instead, he stood frozen in place, seemingly lost in memories, unable to snap out of it for a long time.

"Junior Brother?" The young Daoist looked a bit curious upon seeing this.

...Nothing.

Wang Ping shook his head, driving away the bewilderment in the depths of his eyes. He quickly pulled himself together, smiled, and said, "Master has returned, and he wants to see us?"

"That's right."

The young Daoist smiled. "Junior Brother, you have constantly helped organize the congregation in Former Village without a single complaint, and your contributions are not small. Master has returned precisely for you."

"Good days are coming for you, Junior Brother!"

Hearing this, Wang Ping immediately revealed a look of joy.

Yet deep in his heart, his emotions remained completely unfluctuated, and he even felt a little like laughing—ancient dynasties, feudal society, what kind of good days could there possibly be?

To be able to live was already a blessing begged from the heavens.

Having transmigrated here twenty years ago, he had also muddled along for twenty years in this wretched place called Great Shun, completely integrating into life here.

If nothing unexpected happened, he would end up just like Er-gou next door, finding a wife in the village, then spawning a few kids, working at sunrise and resting at sunset. If he could just live out his life peacefully like that, he would successfully manage to die in this very patch of land around the age of thirty.

When he had first transmigrated over, he had even harbored extravagant hopes of having some kind of cheat.

Yet by now, after experiencing who knows how many bouts of anger, despair, and self-consolation, he had already abandoned those unrealistic pipe dreams.

However, despite saying that, Wang Ping had not simply given up either.

Over twenty years of life, he had played both sides and racked his brains, finally managing to find a chore that allowed him to feed himself while saving up a little bit of a nest egg.

"Come, everyone gather around."

The young Daoist reached out a hand to beckon them. Wang Ping followed closely behind, and the crowd inside the temple quickly assembled, solemnly arriving at the main hall in the back courtyard.

On the corridor pillars on both sides of the main hall hung a striking couplet:

[The earth shakes the high ridge, a branch of streams and mountains remains eternally beautiful.]

[The gates face the vast ocean, the converging river waters flow for ten thousand years.]

Wang Ping raised his head, only to see a four-character horizontal inscribed board right above the lintel:

[Boundless Compassion and Salvation]

Just at that moment, an aged voice suddenly arrived:

"These were the words left behind when the Patriarch first founded my lineage of the Daoist tradition, having been moved by the sight of heaven and earth and nature. They can also be considered a commemoration."

Wang Ping looked up in response, only to see that right in the center of the hall, a table desk was prominently set up. On the desk were various kinds of offerings and a divine shrine. Right beside it, an old Daoist wearing tattered Daoist robes was leaning against the shrine, casually picking up the offerings from the table and eating them with loud smacks of his lips.

"Master!" the young Daoist frowned and said, "You've been eating the Patriarch's offerings again!"

The old Daoist waved a hand at those words. "What can you do? With a tyrant ruling the world and chaos everywhere, we're driven by circumstance. The Patriarch will certainly understand."

"That still doesn't mean you can eat the offerings."

The young Daoist shook his head and lowered his voice. "Master, you're going to regret this."

"Shut up, I'm the sect master!"

As the words fell, the old Daoist waved a hand to make the young Daoist stand aside, and the young Daoist clearly refused to indulge the other, turning around and slamming the door shut with a heavy crash.

"Bang!"

As the door closed, the previously bright main hall suddenly grew dim, and the old Daoist sitting beside the shrine had most of his face shrouded in darkness.

Wang Ping instantly realized something was wrong: A master and disciple quarreling, slamming the door and walking out... It looks like a farce, but in reality, without anyone reacting in time, it directly sealed off the main hall. If that fellow Xie Shi is squatting outside the hall right now, this is simply a classic case of catching turtles in a jar.

Wang Ping's heart quietly leapt to his throat.

"Fellow comrades."

Right at that moment, the old Daoist spoke, his expression filled with emotion. "Twenty years ago, it was right here in Former Village that I set out on my expedition, raising troops to rebel against the tyrannical Great Shun."

The old Daoist sighed softly. "The Lotus Flower descends to deliver all living beings—how formidable was the momentum of that slogan back then? Which county in Changle Commandery did not respond to our call? Wherever the White Lotus Sect went, the people welcomed us wholeheartedly. That surging vitality, that scene of all things contending to flourish, is still fresh before my eyes."

"However..."

Speaking to this point, the old Daoist's tone made an abrupt turn. "After a mere twenty years, has this place actually changed into our burial ground?"

"Sect Master... what do you mean by this?" someone asked.

"What do I mean?"

The old Daoist shook his head, his expression growing increasingly sorrowful. Looking at the assembled crowd, he murmured, "I have already investigated. There is a traitor among us."

A traitor!?

As soon as these words came out, an uproar broke out among the crowd. Everyone in the main hall revealed expressions of astonishment, then instinctively glanced around, wearing scrutinizing looks.

At the same time, some people wore looks of sudden realization, saying with bitter hatred, "No wonder our White Lotus Sect's cause has suffered repeated setbacks these past few years and we've had to relocate our hall several times, only to still be chased around like dogs by the government with zero ability to fight back... So it's because there's a traitor in our midst!"

"Investigate! We must thoroughly investigate!"

Right at that moment, Wang Ping stood up. His expression was resolute, his gaze fanatical, and he said without a single look back, "Lord Sect Master, please give the order!"

As soon as these words were uttered, quite a few people immediately looked at him:

"Give an order?"

"What order?"

Even the old Daoist beside the shrine revealed a look of bewilderment, then curiously said, "Tell me, Wang Ping, what kind of order do you want me to give?"

Wang Ping looked around, his tone calm:

"Let's all commit suicide."

As the words fell, the previously bustling main hall instantly plunged into an extreme, deafening silence. Even the old Daoist's mouth opened slightly, revealing a look of surprise.

Wang Ping, however, didn't care in the least and continued, "If the mole has already been found, then Lord Sect Master wouldn't need to call all of us here. Clearly, we are all suspected subjects. Yet wanting to precisely ferret out the mole from among so many people is undoubtedly finding a needle in a haystack."

"So it's better to take care of it all in one step."

Saying this, Wang Ping's tone was exceptionally solemn.

"If all of us commit suicide and everyone dies, the mole will naturally die as well. As for the loyal followers who die because of this, they can enter the Vacuum Hometown after death."

"How is that not a wonderful thing?"

The silence in the main hall grew even more deafening.

Seeing this, Wang Ping furrowed his brows. "What, are you all not loyal White Lotus followers? Since you're loyal, you shouldn't hesitate when it's time to die."

"You must know that the most important thing to the White Lotus Sect is Lord Sect Master. He is the sun to the followers. If we die, the sun can continue to shine upon all things."

"But if the sun dies, how can we live?"

"What's more, death is merely an effect on our fleshly bodies for us; our souls will enter the Vacuum Hometown to enjoy eternal life, so why fear it?"

When Wang Ping finished speaking, the crowd looked at each other in dismay.

Finally, they looked at Wang Ping with an indescribable gaze, as if asking: No way, you actually believe ghost stories like the Vacuum Hometown?

People die when they are killed!

Seeing that the crowd still wasn't speaking, Wang Ping shook his head, then directly drew the short blade at his waist: "In that case, I'll be the first to..."

Whoosh—!

The blade's gleam flashed forth, yet no blood surged, simply because in the split second before Wang Ping was about to slit his throat and ascend to heaven, another dazzling silver light stopped him.

"Alright, little brother Wang, you're still too extreme."

The old Daoist criticized in a tone neither light nor heavy, having Wang Ping sit back in his original seat, before continuing, "In any case, rooting out the mole is imperative."

"I've decided to hand this task over to someone loyal, reliable, and trustworthy to take charge of."

The old Daoist looked at Wang Ping and smiled gently.

"Wang Ping, I remember you. When I left Former Village back then to found the White Lotus Sect, you had just been born, and I even held you when you were small."

"Aside from Xie Shi, you are the one I trust most among all the believers."

"I am putting you in charge of this mission."

Wang Ping stood up on the spot and said excitedly, "I guarantee the completion..."

At this moment, the old Daoist seemed to recall something else and quickly added, "Do not kill the innocent indiscriminately; I want to see conclusive evidence related to the mole."

"...Oh."

Wang Ping sat back down with a blank expression.

Seeing him look this way, the old Daoist felt rather helpless as well and could only change the subject: "From now on, you are the Hall Master of our Former Village branch hall."

"Understood."

Wang Ping bowed respectfully.

Since the task was to investigate a mole, entry and exit naturally had to be restricted. Everyone was placed under house arrest in the main hall for this reason, and only Wang Ping was permitted to leave temporarily.

"You practiced martial arts all morning and haven't eaten yet, right?"

Outside the main hall, the young Daoist Xie Shi was indeed lying in wait. If that mole had truly wanted to burst out through the door just now, the only result would have been getting killed by him waiting for a hare by the stump.

"Let's go, I'll take you to get a bite?" Xie Shi said warmly.

"Then I'll trouble Senior Brother."

Wang Ping cupped his fists and said casually, "Better go to my household first. Wanting to investigate who the mole is will likely necessitate using some interrogation tools..."

"That works too!"

Xie Shi's tone was casual. The two of them thus left the Daoist temple in brisk strides, and later arrived at a residence in the northwest corner of Former Village. That was Wang Ping's house.

Five years ago, this was still only a thatched cottage.

Ever since he joined the White Lotus Sect five years ago under the introduction of the village elders, the thatched cottage had gradually upgraded into a brick-and-stone house, and then into a large courtyard.

Nowadays, it had even become a hall master of the White Lotus Sect.

With this identity, one did not need to worry about grain even in winter. Having meat for three meals belonged to the standard configuration, and occasionally he could even go off to spend money in the neighboring county town.

Placed in these chaotic times, he could also be considered a local tycoon.

There was only one small problem.

Wang Ping walked all the way into the courtyard, invited Xie Shi to sit down, and subsequently went over to the woodshed, only to see a fat black mouse suddenly crawl out from a hole in the corner.

The mouse's eyes were bright, charcoal ash dusted its paws, and it fluently wrote a line of characters on the ground:

[Tomorrow at the Shen hour, rendezvous at the Grass Market outside the city]

"..."

Wang Ping glanced over it, then raised a foot and kicked the mouse away, conveniently wiping away the charcoal-ash handwriting on the ground—this was the small problem on his person:

The very turncoat that the old Daoist spoke of was none other than himself.