Journey to the West: Treasure Vase of the Great Dao

The leader of the trusted aides apologized to the gentleman, "I'm sorry, sir. You shouldn't have said what you just did."

"It seems the current Duke of Tang has become a startled hare; such words have frightened him," the gentleman in the green robe said slowly, savoring the tea in his hand and shaking his head with a smile.

Shortly afterward, as Li Yuan waited in the back hall and received a message from the trusted aide, he was playing with his child, his face adorned with a kind smile, making it hard to associate him with the noble who had just ordered a killing.

"How did it go? Was it handled cleanly? What a pity, he was talented." Li Yuan sighed lightly. After all, he had a favorable impression of this gentleman, but for his own safety, he could only choose to silence him forever. It was a shame that the gentleman had spoken words he should not have.

At that moment, he looked up and realized that something was off with the trusted aide's complexion. He asked in confusion, "What's wrong, you couldn't handle a scholar without the power to truss a chicken? Or did the gentleman say something unpleasant before his death? Don't take it to heart. After all, once a man is dead, there's no need to mind what he said."

"Reporting to the Family Head, the gentleman was composed and chatting with us merrily, but when we were about to make our move, he suddenly vanished right before our eyes, into thin air," said the trusted aide, his face showing a look of pure terror, for it was indeed frightening when a living person disappeared in broad daylight.

"Vanished!" At this moment, Li Yuan could no longer remain seated; he stood up with a sudden movement from his chair, startling Li Shimin in his arms into wailing.

At this time, he could no longer maintain his composure, a fear developed within him; he feared that the gentleman in the green robe would seek revenge on him. In the following days, he remained restless, constantly fearing the sudden appearance of the elusive gentleman, but as the years passed, he never saw the gentleman again—it was as though he had never existed in this world at all.
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Li Yuan gradually came out of his reverie, feeling dispirited, just like any ordinary old man.

He slowly sat down in his chair, his aging hands tightly clutching his graying hair, mumbling to himself in despair and helplessness, "Sir, is this your retribution against me? How cruel indeed."

In this moment, it seemed he had come to an understanding; this was the punishment from the Immortal, to watch his own flesh and blood tear each other apart. He was old now, his heart no longer as steadfast as in his youth; he wished his family could live in harmony and enjoy the bliss of kinship. Yet, the fresh blood from Xuanwu Gate, yet to dry, had thoroughly shattered his dream.

The latter part of his life was to be spent in agony.

Meanwhile, Lu Yu, strolling down Changan Main Street, suddenly sneezed mightily. He rubbed his nose and whispered in a voice only he could hear, "I'm not taking the blame for this; it was clearly you who lost balance in your own game, and now you're making it my problem. I'm really wronged here."

In his hand, he held a Fire Crystal Persimmon, which he was sucking on with a straw, drawing out its sweet juice. The sweetness filled his stomach, making his whole being feel content.

Lu Yu squinted, basking in the autumn sun, a look of satisfaction on his face. To him, the messy affairs of the Li Yuan family were nothing compared to the Fire Crystal Persimmon."

The Changan market was bustling with activity, the bloodstains of Xuanwu Gate already forgotten by the masses. These were matters of the Imperial Family, after all, bearing no consequence to the common folk. As long as the reigning Emperor was diligent and loved the people, it didn't really matter to them who wore the crown.

The season was approaching late autumn, and the peasants were busy gathering vegetables, preparing to welcome the annual winter.

Jinshan Temple was a famous temple in Changan, with a long history. Despite having witnessed wars, it had not suffered damage. Instead, its incense offerings thrived even more. Today, the temple nourishes many monks, and there are endless streams of commoners visiting the temple daily to offer incense.

Even some of the city's officials and nobles would occasionally visit Jinshan Temple for this purpose.

As the saying goes, "One lives off the resources available in their surroundings." The people living near Jinshan Temple survived by relying on it. They set up stalls at the foot of the temple, mainly targeting those offering incense. Of course, some of the nearby residents also sold their surplus goods. Over time, this place surprisingly turned into a bustling market, alive with voices every day.

When the autumn sun was high in the sky, it marked the most lively moment at the market. The sounds of hawking mixed with bargaining were incessant, forming a very worldly tapestry.

A little monk, with red lips and white teeth, was curiously observing everything at the market. To him, the worldly atmosphere here was completely different from that within the temple, which he found quite intriguing.

Just then, a small stall caught his attention. It was a fish vendor's stall, where fish, already strung up, were displayed in baskets for people to see.

The vendor was a middle-aged man with a full beard, a square face, and sun-drenched, dark skin. His hands, roughened by long periods of labor, were especially coarse, with thick calluses standing out prominently on his palms.

"I'm not exaggerating. Within a hundred miles, ask around, and you'll know that my Bearded Wang's fish are the best, absolutely honest to all ages," Bearded Wang was energetically promoting the fish in his basket to a passerby. Those were all money, after all.

"Uncle, may I look at your fish?" A crisp voice came through, drawing Bearded Wang's attention. He turned his head and saw the little monk with red lips and white teeth.

"Where are you from, little master? Monastics should not partake in meat and fish," Bearded Wang said, smiling fondly at the adorable little monk.

"Master said monastics should have compassion in their hearts. I find the fish in your basket to be quite pitiful. Could you sell them to me so I can set them free?" the little monk asked with an innocent look.

"It is rare for a little master to have a compassionate heart. I won't ask for much. I caught these fish from the Jing River today; ten copper coins, what do you say?" Bearded Wang said with a smile. For him, whether the fish were eaten or released did not concern him, as long as he could sell them for money.

The little monk reached into his Monk's Robe and pulled out a small cloth bag. This was his pocket money, which he had saved little by little over many years. After pouring it all out, he found he only had nine copper coins.

"Uncle, I only have nine here," said the little monk, nervously questioning whether nine coins were enough to buy the fish.

"Forget it, let it be nine coins. The missing coin can be considered my donation to the incense funds of Jinshan Temple," Bearded Wang said, taking the nine copper coins from the little monk and weighing them before adding with a smile.

"Here, this is the fish you wanted." He reached into the fish basket, grabbed a fish, and handed it to the little monk.