Chapter 42: Common Goods Everywhere

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Amid the clatter of wooden clogs dragging across the floor, a young man emerged from the rear hall. He bore a certain resemblance to Murong Xing. There was no need to ask—he was none other than Young Master Murong.

Kumazhi saw that the man was in his twenties, dressed in a white linen yukata with his chest exposed. His hair hung loose, his face was stubbled, and he looked utterly unkempt.

He seemed to have just come from bathing.

How improper, Kumazhi thought. Young Master Murong had actually come out to receive guests dressed in a yukata, with his hair hanging loose!

Who on earth appeared before guests in such attire? It was a blatant breach of etiquette.

Worse still were the man’s next words.

“Holy Preceptor, what skill is there in burning a living man?”

“As the revered state preceptor of Tubo, you ought to use this man’s skin to make a thangka. Refine it with pearls, agate, and mineral pigments for three full years, then cover it with a hundred and eight repetitions of the Great Compassion Mantra, written in tiny characters in both Chinese and Sanskrit.”

“Only then should you take it to the old bastard’s grave and burn it. That would truly show how deeply you mourn him!”

“It would also be far more fitting for someone of your exalted station.”

“Oh, and the skin must be flayed while he is still alive. It will be more elastic that way.”

The man’s mocking sarcasm made Kumazhi so furious that his nose nearly twisted out of shape, while Duan Yu was thoroughly frightened.

Duan Yu had never imagined that compared with the monk, the young master of the Murong family would be even more vicious.

“I…I have never wronged your Murong family, nor have you wronged me…” Duan Yu stammered in terror.

He had originally thought he would be burned alive. Now it seemed he was to be flayed instead. How could he not be afraid?

Murong Fu—or rather, Shi Fei—looked at Duan Yu’s foolish expression and found it amusing.

“Do not be afraid. Once you are dead, your father may well seek revenge on the Holy Preceptor.”

“Your father’s martial arts are probably no match for Kumazhi. When the time comes, Kumazhi can send him to join you. Then the two of you can be reunited beneath the earth. Truly, truly meritorious!”

“You…” Duan Yu thought the man before him was utterly vicious. It seemed he was doomed today.

Then he noticed Murong Xing winking at him. At once, he understood that Young Master Murong was probably only ridiculing Kumazhi.

After Young Master Murong arrived, the usually reckless Murong Xing did not dare say a word. As for A Zhu and A Bi, they stood to one side in complete silence.

The Murong family was ruled by Young Master Murong. Duan Yu finally understood that much.

Kumazhi said, “Young Master Murong is prejudiced against this humble monk. In years past, when I met Old Master Murong, I found him refined and elegant, a man worthy of admiration. I happened to pass by today, and so I came especially to pay my respects at Old Master Murong’s grave.”

“Yet after all these years, this is how the Murong family treats its guests. What a disgraceful decline in family tradition!”

When insulting someone, one had to strike where it hurt.

He was making a veiled attack on the Murong family. In his experience, scions of great houses placed enormous importance on their lineage and upbringing.

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Shi Fei said in surprise, “The Holy Preceptor actually thought that old bastard refined and elegant, a man worthy of admiration? It seems the Holy Preceptor is blind as well. That old bastard was a two-faced schemer, sweet-tongued yet treacherous, and accomplished nothing in his entire life.”

“…”

When Kumazhi heard Young Master Murong speak of his own father, he was astonished to find not the slightest trace of respect in his words. On the contrary, he held his father in utter contempt.

Since ancient times, there had been no shortage of sons who turned against their fathers. Could the current generation of the Murong family be the same?

His original plan had been to force Duan Yu to reproduce the Six Meridian Divine Sword Manual from memory, then present it to the people of Murong Manor in exchange for the chance to read the books kept in the Returning-Stars Pavilion.

It would have been a win-win arrangement—he would win twice over.

Even if Duan Yu refused to write out the Six Meridian Divine Sword Manual, the people of the Murong family would still keep him there and owe Kumazhi a favor, allowing him to read the books in the pavilion.

Either way, he would not lose.

But Young Master Murong clearly showed little respect for Murong Bo. Would he honor his agreement with Murong Bo?

If a man did not even respect his own father, why would he respect his father’s words?

“In that case, I suppose I was merely indulging in wishful thinking!” Kumazhi had already made up his mind. “This humble monk shall take the heir away at once and spare the Murong family any trouble.”

Of course, saying that he did not wish to trouble the Murong family was simply another way of saying that he looked down on them.

Murong Xing opened his mouth as if to speak, but Shi Fei cast him a glance. Murong Xing immediately shrank back and dared not say another word.

Shi Fei said, “Were you not here to pay your respects to the old bastard? Why are you leaving already?”

Kumazhi asked, “Are you willing to let this humble monk take the heir to the grave?”

Shi Fei shook his head. “The Holy Preceptor has come all this way to pay respects to the old bastard. How could we possibly prevent you from fulfilling your vow? As for burning a living man, however, we shall let that pass.”

“We are kindhearted people.”

Shi Fei sighed and continued, “Come to think of it, ever since the old bastard died, no one has burned paper offerings for him during the Tomb-Sweeping Festival. He must be terribly lonely in the underworld.”

“Since the Holy Preceptor has already come, why not hold a grand Water-and-Land Assembly at Swallow Dock, lasting seven times seven—that is, forty-nine days?”

A Zhu, standing nearby, nearly lost control and burst out laughing.

Everyone outside knew that the old master of the manor had been dead for more than a decade. As the steward of Canhe Manor, she often saw a mysterious figure return.

Though no one ever said who that mysterious figure was, her intelligence had naturally allowed her to deduce the truth.

She remembered the mysterious man she had seen a few days earlier—the one Young Master Murong had angrily berated as a good-for-nothing, despite having spent twenty years preparing for the examinations and still remaining merely a licentiate.

Now she saw her own young master begin milking Kumazhi, preparing to make a great show of conducting Buddhist rites for the old master.

A Zhu felt that even if everyone in Canhe Manor were combined, none of them possessed as much malicious humor as their young master.

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“A Water-and-Land Assembly?” Kumazhi’s eyelid twitched.

He naturally knew what that meant.

It was a grand Buddhist ceremony, held specifically to pray for peace and bless the living while delivering the souls of the dead.

“This humble monk came in haste and did not bring enough people with him,” Kumazhi declined tactfully. A Water-and-Land Assembly was not something one man could arrange alone.

Shi Fei said, “There is no need to worry. With the Holy Preceptor’s status, a single letter should be enough to bring many people here.”

He did not merely intend to fleece Kumazhi. He also meant to make him work for free.

Kumazhi’s expression darkened. Then he suddenly said, “What of my agreement with the old master?”

That was the true reason he had come to Canhe Manor.

He was a martial arts fanatic. All he wanted was to read the books kept within the manor.

Shi Fei said, “The Holy Preceptor has traveled thousands of miles and gone to all this trouble to conduct a Water-and-Land Assembly for the old bastard. In return for such a small favor, the manor will naturally present you with the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts.”

Kumazhi’s dark expression brightened at once. He could not help asking, “Truly?”

“Of course. If you mean the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts of the New Shaolin, those would indeed be exceedingly rare. But the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts of Mount Song Shaolin alone? They are everywhere in the streets. Nothing worth treasuring!”

Shi Fei shook his head.

“What? The Seventy-Two Supreme Arts are everywhere in the streets?” Kumazhi asked incredulously.

He had never visited the martial world of the Central Plains, but he had heard of the legendary fame of Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Supreme Arts. Quite a few of them had supposedly been lost for many years.

He himself possessed the Flower-Arranging Finger and the Prajna Palm, both of which he had acquired only after enduring countless hardships.

How could these techniques be common as dirt in the martial world of the Central Plains?

Then what had been the point of capturing the heir of Dali?

Had he not merely been helping that young fellow pad his step count?

Shi Fei continued, “Holy Preceptor, the martial world is ever turbulent, its changes impossible to predict. Every three to five years, it is practically as though an entirely new age has begun.”

“A few years ago, Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Supreme Arts were still shrouded in mystery.”

“But now…what age are we living in? Who still uses those traditional Seventy-Two Supreme Arts?”