Chapter 1476 - 799: Han King, Crown Prince, Iron Abacus (Two-in-One) (2)

After speaking, he didn't dare look at Chen Yi's expression again. He turned and followed the maid, almost trotting as he went toward the inner compound.

Chen Yi understood in his heart.

So be it. If he had to go out himself to make inquiries, it was no more than spending a little extra legwork and thought. Troublesome, yes—but it could only be troublesome.

He did not linger, but turned to walk out of the residence. Just as he passed through the Moon Cave Gate of the front courtyard, he saw a servant rushing in with an anxious look, almost running straight into him. The servant didn't even bother to apologize, his feet never stopping, darting like a gust of wind toward the inner courtyard.

Chen Yi's steps paused slightly. He shifted his body to let the man pass, and looked at the servant's retreating back with a thoughtful gaze.

He pondered for a moment, but did not immediately leave, remaining where he was for a short while.

Sure enough, not long after, Steward Li—who had just left in such haste—now came hurrying back, moving at a brisk stride. A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and on his face was a far more obsequious smile than before. From a distance he cupped his hands toward Chen Yi and called:

"Mr. Chen, Mr. Chen, please stay!"

Chen Yi turned around, surprised. "Steward? Weren't you going to report to the Old Master? Why have you come back?"

Steward Li came up in a few quick steps and said, "Ah, look at my memory. After the Old Master finished questioning me, I kept thinking about what you, Mr. Chen, had just asked! In all this flurry, I nearly forgot!"

"Oh? Steward, didn't you just say… 'we'll speak later'?"

"Well, isn't this just that 'later'?" The steward slapped his thigh and lowered his voice. "Didn't Mr. Chen want to seek out some… ah, more reliable channels? Just now it was my poor consideration; my words were rash. You're Third Master's honored guest, and you've come bearing his token—that makes you one of our own. There are some things that, with outsiders, we naturally can't say. But to you, we can speak of them."

......…

Today, Qinglong Temple's gates were rarely shut tight, and within, the sight was entirely different from the solemn, pure land of former days.

On the square lay scattered kneeling mats trampled out of shape, overturned incense burners, shattered porcelain cups, and even a single shoe someone had somehow left behind. The high platform for the Dharma seat was now no more than a charred frame; the wind passed over it, lifting fine drifting ash.

The vast temple was eerily silent. The morning bell and evening drum, the waves of Buddhist chanting of days past, were gone. The monks all cowered in the various halls or cells, not daring even to recite sutras in a low voice.

Several figures in black tough clothes with half-face black iron masks moved back and forth through the temple like soundless specters. Their steps were light, their movements stirring almost no wind. Their eyes were sharp as hawks, sweeping every corner, examining every remaining object; even the ash on the ground they picked up between their fingers to scrutinize. At their waists hung standardized, narrow long sabers, their scabbards dull, pitch-black.

The abbot of the temple was at this moment following closely, half a step behind the leader of the black-clad men. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead; even the posture of his joined palms was somewhat stiff.

The leader of the black-clad men was not particularly tall, but he had broad shoulders and a thick back, a tiger's back and a wasp's waist. Hanging at his waist was a palm-sized Mystic Iron waist card, which swayed slightly with his subtle movements. On the surface of the card was an incised character with razor-edged strokes, as if carrying baleful energy—"Inspection."

The Inspection Department.

Unlike Great Yu's Division of Ceasefire, the Jinyi Guard, and the East and West Factories, which were stratified and split into different branches to handle different matters, in Da Jin all affairs concerning Martial Artists were handled solely by the Inspection Department.

"When did he die?"

Qiao Tumen's voice came muffled through the mask.

The abbot quickly bent at the waist, his voice trembling. "R–reporting to the official, it was yesterday… yesterday at dusk, in the middle of a sermon…"

"A sermon?" Qiao Tumen cut him off, his gaze sweeping over the charred Magic Platform. "What sutra? For whom was he preaching?"

"It—it was the Lotus Sutra… Pu Hui, he… he was expounding the Buddhist Law to the faithful. At the time there were several thousand devotees below the platform…"

"Several thousand people saw it with their own eyes?" Qiao Tumen's tone made it unclear whether he was asking or stating.

"Y–yes."

"Truly Karmic Fire on his own body, burned clean on the spot?" Qiao Tumen finally moved his gaze from the platform to the abbot's face. That gaze felt almost tangible, leaving the old monk nearly unable to stand.

The abbot swallowed, forced himself to speak. "Reporting to the official… it—it was indeed so. The Fire burst out suddenly, its color blazing gold, and in an instant surged to full strength. Junior brother Pu Hui… he was engulfed in a heartbeat, and before the eyes of the multitude, turned to ash… Such a scene is no common Fire. It must—must be that his karmic burden was too heavy, calling down Karmic Fire upon his own body. This is… this is Heaven's retribution made manifest!"

Qiao Tumen gave no comment, only remained silent. Another black-clad man, who had been crouched at the edge of the Magic Platform carefully examining the charred ground and remaining traces, suddenly rose and walked quickly to Qiao Tumen's side, cupping his hands and speaking in a low voice: "Chief, the manner of death is wrong."

Qiao Tumen scrutinized him for a moment. "Record as you speak and report."

"The distribution of ash, the remaining personal effects, and the scorch marks on the ground all show subtle discrepancies from recorded cases of Karmic Fire or ordinary fierce flames consuming a body. More importantly, beneath several patches of ash, your subordinate sensed extremely faint traces of Primordial Qi disturbance. It is neither Buddha Power nor the natural force of Fire, but more like… the residue left when some Evil Array is violently destroyed."

"Array backlash?" A cold light flashed in the narrow eyes beneath Qiao Tumen's mask.

"Yes."

"Impossible!" The abbot to the side, struck as if by lightning at these words, cried out, "Junior brother Pu Hui devoted himself to the Buddhist Law. In his youth he journeyed to the Western Regions for scriptures, compassionate at heart—how could he be tainted by any Evil Array? Official, please discern clearly, do not heed such wild talk!"

His words cut off abruptly.

Because that black-clad man under Qiao Tumen suddenly, without any warning, drove a fist into his chest.

The punch was not particularly heavy and did not use Inner Strength, but it was extremely fast, its angle vicious.