Chapter 47:
Interrogation
AFTER SHEN QIAO had humiliated him, Chen Gong sent men to the monastery twice.
The first time, they were courteous, claiming they wanted to invite Shen Qiao to the Duke of Pengcheng’s residence as a guest. They refused to believe that Shen Qiao wasn’t there, so the abbot let them search the entire monastery before they left, angry.
The second time, they weren’t so courteous. They swaggered in with great arrogance. Chen Gong understood Shen Qiao fairly well and knew he disliked dragging other people into his problems, so he’d commanded his men to apprehend the abbot and his two disciples and take them away. Shen Qiao was sure to show up at Chen Gong’s door himself after that.
But the abbot anticipated this. He took his two disciples and hid inside the cellar, leaving Chen Gong’s men empty-handed. They figured the priests must have absconded the previous night. At a loss, they could only report back.
Chuyi had never been as quiet as Shiwu. After a few days in the cellar, he was already anxious to leave. The place was dark, the air musty—much less comfortable than staying above ground. The city happened to be holding a fair just then, so Chuyi pleaded and wheedled for hours before the abbot finally relented and let him head out to visit the fair. The abbot even warned him not to return too early.
But there was no escaping fate. Although Chuyi had kept his arrival back at the monastery as quiet as possible, the newcomer was a skilled martial artist—it was impossible to escape their notice.
When they spoke, Shen Qiao’s expression fell.
“Do you live here, young priest?” the newcomer said.
“Who are you?” asked Chuyi.
Two holes had been bored into the cellar so that the inhabitants could breathe. The people who’d first built the place gave it a very special design—though the people within could hear noises from without, it was very difficult for those outside to find the cellar.
Seeing Shen Qiao’s expression, the abbot mouthed, Who is he?
Shen Qiao covered his mouth, forcing down his urge to cough. Then he dipped his finger in some water and quickly wrote a few words atop the table.
Xiao Se
Member of Hehuan Sect
Yuan Xiuxiu’s disciple
I was injured during a fight with Sang Jingxing.
It was true that Yuan Xiuxiu and Sang Jingxing were at odds with each other, but they were also both from Hehuan Sect. Regardless, Xiao Se’s sudden arrival wasn’t likely to mean anything good.
Shiwu was still a little confused, but the abbot understood. His frown deepened, and his complexion took on a pale tinge of green.
When Shen Qiao had first begun lodging here, he took the three for ordinary Daoist priests. Only when the abbot took his pulse did he realize the man was probably from the jianghu too.
But the identity of the abbot didn’t matter anymore. What did matter was that Xiao Se had shown up at the monastery. It wasn’t possible he was there with good intentions—most likely, he’d come for Shen Qiao.
“My name is Xiao Se,” they heard him say. His voice was gentle, more like a guest than someone who’d come looking for trouble. “Young priest, have you ever met a man named Shen Qiao?”
“I—I haven’t!”
Xiao Se laughed. “Young priest, you can’t even lie. Tell me, where is he?”
“I don’t know!” Chuyi said loudly. “Who are you?! Hurry up and leave, or my shifu’ll beat you to death when he gets back!”
Xiao Se wasn’t at all put off. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to bring you back to Elder Sang,” he said softly. “He’s in a terrible mood nowadays—he’s already killed three of his beauties. And I was just worrying that his esteemed self wouldn’t have anyone left to take his anger out on! Don’t do something so foolish for little old Shen Qiao!”
In the cellar, Shen Qiao struggled to get out of bed while the abbot held him down firmly. His strength was so great, Shen Qiao couldn’t shove him off.
“Listen to me!” He dropped his voice low, his mouth pressed to Shen Qiao’s ear as he spoke. “Hehuan Sect revel in slaughter. They won’t let Chuyi go just because you show yourself. You’d only end up in trouble together. You stay here and look after Shiwu. I’ll go!”
Shen Qiao knew the abbot was right, but he couldn’t imagine hiding in safety while someone else bore the brunt of what should have been his responsibility.
He shook his head. Just when he was about to say that he’d save Chuyi at all costs, the abbot moved with lightning speed, locking his acupoints. Then he swiftly fished an object from his lapels and shoved it into Shen Qiao’s hand. “If anything happens, take Shiwu to Bixia Sect on Mount Tai. Tell them that their good-for-nothing disciple Zhu Lengquan accepted his own disciple while out in the world. Let Shiwu return to his sect and forefathers.”
When the abbot finished, he also locked Shiwu’s acupoints. “I didn’t press too hard,” he said to them both. “They’ll undo themselves in about a quarter of an hour. I’ve entrusted Shiwu to you, Shen-gongzi. Remember: this is your duty now.”
Then he stood and left the cellar, never looking back.
The way out of the cellar led in many different directions. To prevent Xiao Se from discovering the entrance, the abbot purposefully took the path to a different room, then walked outside from there.
“It’s the middle of the night! Who’s going around disturbing people’s sleep?” He stretched as he walked out, drowsiness written all over his face. “Who are you? Why are you clutching my disciple?”
“Shifu!” Xiao Se’s hand was clamped over Chuyi’s shoulder. When the boy saw the abbot, tears just about streamed down his face.
“Are you the master of this monastery?” asked Xiao Se.
“I am. And who are you, exactly?” The abbot frowned. “If my disciple has offended you, I’ll apologize, as his master. Please let him go.”
Xiao Se didn’t release Chuyi. His gaze swept over the sword in the abbot’s hand, and he smiled. “Where is Shen Qiao?”
“Who’s that? I’ve never heard of such a person.”
Xiao Se narrowed his eyes. “We’re both intelligent men here. Playing the fool won’t do you any good. Say, if I crush your disciple’s shoulder, will he cave to the pain and call out to the one you’re hiding?”
He tightened his grip, causing Chuyi to howl and scream. The boy began “paying his respects” to eighteen generations of Xiao Se’s ancestors using all sorts of popular vulgarities.
“Stop!” No longer hesitating, the abbot drew his sword. The edge trembled slightly as he lunged at the other man.
Xiao Se kept hold of Chuyi, but his movements weren’t slowed by the boy in his clutches. His other palm struck out as he muttered, “This is your shifu’s matter, but you dumped the responsibility onto me. If you keep out of it now, you’ll just have to demand Shen Qiao’s whereabouts yourself later. After all, this young priest is quite decent-looking—bringing him back will be sufficient for my report to Shifu.”
From above and to the side, a delicate laugh rang out. “Xiao-shixiong, your shifu might be the sect leader, but her influence in the sect doesn’t even compare to my shifu’s! I say you should just switch sides and join mine instead!”
Xiao Se snorted but didn’t respond.
The abbot’s expression, however, fell drastically.
Two more people appeared in front of him, accompanied by laughter.
One of them wore white, and her appearance was tender and sweet. This was Bai Rong, whom Shen Qiao had met many times.
As for the other person, though his head was shaved, he was no monk, for his clothes were even more extravagant than the average rich young master. It was a terribly incongruous combination.
But the abbot didn’t dare look down on him on account of his strange clothing because he knew who this person was.
It was another problematic member of Hehuan Sect, Yan Shou.
He had a moniker: “the Buddha with the Blood-Soaked Hand.” Though he possessed the dignified appearance of a buddha, his heart was as savage as a demon’s. His hands were thoroughly bloodstained—no one knew how many lives they were laden with.
Yan Shou wasn’t as deranged as Huo Xijing, who’d loved to skin people’s faces day in and day out, but he’d taken just as many lives.
It was obvious now: Shen Qiao had injured Sang Jingxing gravely, so he hated Shen Qiao to the bone. Naturally, he sent his disciples to look for him.
If it had been only Xiao Se, the abbot thought, he still might have been able to force a retreat if he gave it his all. But with two more, it was now one against three. He couldn’t hold on to that hope any longer.
“Give us Shen Qiao,” said Yan Shou.
Though he barely moved, Chuyi went from Xiao Se’s hands to Yan Shou’s in the blink of an eye. Chuyi knew little of martial arts—some mild torture was enough to flood his face with tears as he cried, “Shifu, save me!” But no matter how he wailed, he didn’t say where Shen Qiao and Shiwu were.
The abbot felt like his heart was being torn open, and he put aside any concerns about his lack of strength. With a twirl of his sword, he thrust forward.
But Yan Shou didn’t meet him—Bai Rong did.
Blessed with incredible talent in martial arts, her skills grew in leaps and bounds every day. She was at a higher level now than when Shen Qiao had last seen her: her “Blue Lotus Palms” transformed into hundreds of thousands of lotus flowers, all blossoming around the abbot. As he pierced each of them one by one, they rebloomed, growing and multiplying endlessly, perhaps infinitely.
Sweat trickled down the abbot’s forehead. He could still manage Bai Rong on her own, but Yan Shou and Xiao Se were on the sidelines, so the pressure on him was immense. He knew very well that even if he could beat back Bai Rong, the other two might attack at any time.
And if he withdrew now, he might be able to escape intact, but Chuyi was in their hands. It was impossible for the abbot to abandon him.
Yan Shou saw this weakness, and his grip on the boy tightened. “Where is Shen Qiao?”
Chuyi let out another wail of pain.
The abbot’s heart trembled, and his hand quivered in tandem. Spotting an opening, Bai Rong slammed one of her palms into his chest. He hacked up blood, stumbling back three steps.
“I don’t know any Shen Qiao! How unreasonable can you lot be to attack us the moment you arrive! The two of us have been living peacefully in this broken-down place, and we’ve never offended anyone!”
Suddenly, Xiao Se laughed. “Elder Yan, look at his moves. Don’t they look those from like Mount Tai’s Bixia Sect?”
“Mm,” said Yan Shou. “There is indeed some resemblance.”
“Why would someone from Mount Tai’s Bixia Sect run away here and conceal his identity? Perhaps a disciple who’d been expelled?”