Chapter 30: Announcement from the Marquis of the Divine
Chang’an City, Anguo Temple.
The worship of Buddhism was extremely fervent in Great Zhou, and Anguo Temple, having received the Empress Dowager’s favor many times, was revered as a Bodhisattva’s site.
News of the temple fire spread through Chang’an like a gale.
Not only did many in the city rush to help extinguish the flames, even faithful believers from outside the walls hurried over to assist.
Even elders unable to help knelt far off, praying for heavenly protection.
For such a major event within the city, Duke of Jin—Grand Minister—naturally came to inspect.
Thus, those most panicked on the scene were the Wu Hou Guard.
They were adept at catching petty thieves, but since fire was rare in the city, they had long neglected firefighting training.
Now, facing a blaze at Anguo Temple, they were flustered.
The head of the guard directed men to carry water to douse the flames while discreetly watching the Duke of Jin’s expression.
He thought, This time I’ll probably be demoted to a gatekeeper in some outlying district. Why does misfortune always find me—especially now, in my term of duty… sigh…
“Duke of Jin.”
Medicine Master Mo Ke, entranced by the burning temple, snapped to attention when he heard a voice and turned to see an elderly man in a wheelchair approaching.
The old man wore a hat; the wrinkles and scars on his face crisscrossed.
His beard was neatly groomed.
Even seated in his wheelchair, his broad shoulders filled out his splendid robes with the bearing of a warrior.
Although someone followed behind, no one pushed the wheelchair—he clearly controlled its movement himself.
“Old Chancellor Yang,” Mo Ke hurried forward and bowed, steadying the wheelchair in proper deferential etiquette, “Thank you for troubling yourself to come…”
“I’ve been at home too long. It’s good to come out and feel the sun,” the old Chancellor Yang said with a chuckle.
“Please forgive my inability to bow.”
“Oh, your words humble me! If not for you saving me from chaos when all armies clashed, Mo Ke wouldn’t have stood here today,” Mo Ke exclaimed.
“Next time, just send a message—I didn’t need you to trouble yourself to attend in person.”
“Ah, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself in a wheelchair,” Chancellor Yang sighed.
“But I heard that the granddaughter who had been missing for days was found at last. As a grandfather anxious with love, I hurried right here.”
He sighed again: “She escaped through the underground chambers of Anguo Temple, starving for days… my poor little granddaughter…”
Mo Ke turned his gaze to the group behind Chancellor Yang, where a little girl, surrounded by several women attending to her, stood.
Although she’d received basic cleansing, the haggard face and frail features spoke volumes of what she had endured these past days—only the impoverished suffered such things: imprisonment and hunger.
At that moment, another voice rang out from nearby: “Move aside!”
With the clang of armor, a tall young general strode forward.
Even the Ghostly Warriors made way for him.
He reached Mo Ke, dropped to one knee, and said: “Your servant greets the Duke of Jin!”
“Long Chen!” Mo Ke helped the young general to his feet.
He spotted the youth across the way drinking hot soup.
“Is he your relative…?”
“He is my nephew,” the young general bowed, clasping his fists.
“He’s always been unruly. It’s no wonder he was deceived. But how could Anguo Temple dare to hoard petroleum within Chang’an? Their intent is plain—they must be exterminated, all those in the know, as a warning!”
Even the monks knew the value of petroleum.
The Great Zhou court surely could not be ignorant.
Under the law, petroleum was strictly forbidden within city limits.
Once discovered, the sentence was death without exception.
The danger of fire was only one concern; more critically, anyone doused in petroleum could become a walking inferno, unstoppable and able to harm others.
If Anguo Temple had not hidden petroleum, human trafficking of women and children—even if those victims were reincarnated into lucky lives—was a minor crime in comparison.
In a world with divine messengers powerful enough to resurrect endlessly, secret realms with monsters, even secure zones like the capital city, faith was at an unprecedented high.
Everyone believed—or required—a supreme presence to explain the incomprehensible and immutable.
Not only commoners, but among the messengers themselves, eight or nine out of ten who pursued the Buddhist path were devotees.
In such a devout religious atmosphere, even if Anguo Temple committed serious sins, people would simply expel or defrock corrupt monks to preserve Buddhism’s purity…
But hiding petroleum was different.
Even a Tier‑3 Messenger might be incinerated by a person self-immolating in petroleum.
Most defensive tokens consumed spirit power by count or by time—those warrior-monks in Anguo Temple who were burned resisting the blaze wore Arhat robes that held flames for seconds until their spirit gave out and they were engulfed.
Tier‑3 Messengers could hold on longer, but the fire toxins would eventually weaken them too.
“I have already dispatched men to inspect Zhengde Temple and Dajue Zen Monastery in Chang’an County,” Mo Ke said, his face dark.
“The escaped Anguo Temple monks will soon be captured.**
“To dare hide petroleum is a crime worthy of ten thousand deaths!”
He swept his gaze around and loudly proclaimed:
“Anguo Temple has committed atrocities for years, abducting countless innocent women and children.
"I will expose everything, find every missing person’s kin, and give everyone justice!”
“Yes, Duke of Jin!”
“Now that the Duke of Jin governs this matter, Heaven is clear again!”
“Duke of Jin, you must find my wretched child!”
Those around Mo Ke were no ordinary folk—they were prominent named figures in Chang’an, noble scions or wealthy merchants and landlords.
Each had relatives missing in the city—and now that Anguo Temple was exposed as the likely culprit, their hopeless hearts ignited with hope of locating their loved ones.
Of course, many, like Chancellor Yang and the young general who found their missing kin, were here both to express gratitude and to lay groundwork for dividing Anguo Temple’s assets.
Anguo Temple had sustained the messengers and possessed a secret realm.
Now that this giant was collapsing, the victims deserved compensation.
The young general stepped from the crowd.
Xue Yan, sipping a hot bowl of pork ribs soup nearby, immediately greeted him: “Third Uncle—”
“Don’t worry, Anguo Temple is done for this time.”
Third Uncle Xue Huaiyi reached out and ruffled Xue Yan’s hair.
“Everything they owe you will be paid in full.
You’re about the right age—it’s time to change your class to Messenger.
Use Anguo Temple’s resources to build your foundation.”
“Hehe, Third Uncle would never let me suffer a loss.”
Xue Yan clearly admired his uncle, though compared to the monks of Anguo Temple, he was more concerned with another matter.
“Did they find An Wu and An Liu?”
Xue Huaiyi shook his head.
“The fire is too intense—extinguishing it is impossible right now, let alone searching inside.
And based on what you said… it’s absolutely impossible they survived.”
“Is that so…”
Xue Yan’s expression didn’t change much, but his tone turned gloomy.
“Go home and practice your spear technique properly.”
Xue Huaiyi said, “Stop relying on manuals all the time.
If you were a Messenger, those bald monks wouldn’t dare harm you.
Even in Chang’an, you need strength to protect yourself.”
“Mm.”
Xue Yan nodded, then asked, “So… did they find that group?”
“No.”
Xue Huaiyi shook his head.
“We only confirmed that they ate noodles at the shop across from Anguo Temple.
Then they disappeared.
No sightings were recorded at the city gates.
Although it’s possible they’re still inside the city, if their message was true, then… they’ve already left Chang’an and returned to the Thieves’ House.”
“What is the Thieves’ House?”
Xue Yan knew of secret realms, but clearly hadn’t heard of something as obscure as the Thieves’ House.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
Xue Huaiyi didn’t want to explain too much here.
“Then did they steal something really valuable?”
Xue Yan asked curiously.
“I saw their leader carrying a big sack and holding a new blade—it must’ve come from the treasury!
They all treated it very seriously—was it a powerful token?”
“Truly valuable things wouldn’t be stored at Anguo Temple.
What’s kept there is just trivial junk.”
Xue Huaiyi said, “As for that blade…
It is valuable, yes, but it’s not a token.”
“Hey, Greenhorn!”
Hearing the shout from behind, Xue Yan turned his head and saw that brat Miss Yang calling to him.
He replied grumpily, “Don’t call me Greenhorn! I’ve had it with you.
Don’t you have any manners?”
“I don’t know your name, so I can only call you based on my impression.”
Miss Yang pouted.
“All I know is you’re a brainless Greenhorn.”
“My name is Xue Yan!”
Xue Yan said irritably.
“And you talk like you’re some genius.”
“If I hadn’t pulled you away, you’d have been roasted like a pig.
Clearly, I’ve got a bit more brains than you.”
Miss Yang proudly declared, “I’m Yang Qianqian.
Come play with me sometime!”
She was soon pulled away by her aunts, and faint scolding could be heard like “A proper lady doesn’t speak so loudly.”
Xue Yan turned back to find Third Uncle looking at him with a smirk that wasn’t quite a smile.
For some reason, Xue Yan’s cheeks turned red.
He snapped, “What?”
“Nothing.”
Xue Huaiyi looked toward the old man in the wheelchair in the distance.
“The granddaughter of former Palace Attendant Chancellor Yang…”
Among the victims were the Xue family, the Yang family, the Li family, the Su family…
All major Central Plains clans from the court.
Not a single victim came from the northern border’s martial nobility…
Xue Huaiyi exchanged glances with Chancellor Yang in the distance—they both saw frustration in each other’s eyes.
“Third Uncle,”
Xue Yan hurried to change the subject.
“So even though Anguo Temple’s treasury was robbed, they didn’t really lose anything valuable?
But they saved us and burned Anguo Temple—why did they do all that?”
“I don’t know either.”
Xue Huaiyi suppressed his irritation and speculated, “Maybe they got something from the secret realm…”
Just then, a vast voice echoed over the skies of Chang’an.
It rang clearly in everyone’s ears:
“Announcement from the Divine Marquis Estate: Recently, four unknown thieves arrived from the Thieves’ House.
They successfully stole the legendary token ‘Bingzi Pepper Forest’ from Anguo Temple in Chang’an.
This is a wanted notice.”
…
…
“Announcement from the Divine Marquis Estate: Recently, four unknown thieves arrived from the Thieves’ House.
They successfully stole the legendary token ‘Bingzi Pepper Forest’ from Anguo Temple in Chang’an.
This is a wanted notice.”
In Jiangnan City, some hadn’t yet processed the first announcement, but when the second echoed, nearly everyone dropped to their knees.
“It’s a divine oracle!”
“The gods are speaking!”
“So immortals really do exist!”
“Blessed by the immortals, blessed by the immortals!”
In a merchant’s home, Shang Qiao listened dazedly to the three announcements.
Suddenly, he grabbed the nearest servant.
“You, go call someone to notify Father—no, wait.”
He immediately rejected his own idea.
“Tell the chief instructor to seal the estate gates.
No one is allowed in or out.
Everyone is to stay within their courtyards.
Act as though it’s a curfew.
Whoever disobeys will be punished by family law!”
……
…
Outside Buye Tian City.
“Do not kneel!”
“Get up, stand up!”
“Why are you kneeling to those freaks from the Divine Marquis Estate? Get up!”
Ying Le held a horsewhip, lashing everyone on the road who dared kneel as she drove her war chariot into the city.
But if anyone actually stood up, she still lashed them anyway, cursing angrily, “How dare you not kneel before your emperor—such insolence!”
She whipped and killed her way down the road, lashing commoners and officials alike.
Faced with the nearly deranged emperor, no one even had the courage to run.
They could only pray that the whip might hear their silent pleas.
As the war chariot approached the city gate, everyone finally sighed in relief—some even collapsed, too weak to stand.
But then, the war chariot suddenly halted.
The guard kneeling beside it felt his scalp go numb and his mind go blank.
Despair gripped his heart tightly.
He didn’t know whether he should be kneeling or standing.
He didn’t even know whether he was still outside Buye Tian or already inside...
Though in most cases, being inside or outside only changed the way His Majesty killed.
Tap.
A pair of pale, beautiful bare feet appeared in his vision.
The arches were elegantly curved, each toe like a pearl, the nails trimmed perfectly, immaculate.
When these jade feet stepped onto the filthy mud at the city gate, the contrast evoked a strange sense of desecrated holiness.
But those feet walked right up to the guard, nearly touching his nose.
Whatever thoughts spun through the guard’s head, no one knew—
But he took a deep breath.
“Does it smell good?”
A curious voice sounded above his head.
“No... no smell.”
Knowing he was doomed, the guard replied with a trembling voice, “This lowly one only smelled the earth.”
Then Ying Le did something no one expected—
She stood on one leg and lifted the other to sniff it.
She didn’t care how indecent the pose was, or whether her skirt might reveal anything.
“Good, you didn’t lie.”
Ying Le picked the guard up and carried him to the city gate, pointing above.
“Did you put this up?”
The guard stared wide-eyed for a moment, then quickly shook his head.
“No! Definitely not!
Wanted posters are posted in our barracks—they’re never posted outside!”
“Is that so…”
Ying Le casually tossed the guard aside and narrowed her eyes at the four wanted posters on the city wall.
“Divine Marquis Estate Wanted Poster…”
She gnashed her teeth as she repeated the words, reaching up to rub her right chest.
That old scar seemed to throb with pain again.
“Divine Marquis Estate!”