Chapter 75: The Mustard Seed of Mount Sumeru, the Illusion of the Heavenly Net

Murders have been occurring in succession within Chang’an city—an absolutely abnormal phenomenon, and clearly premeditated. Coupled with last night’s massive fire in the Western Market, Lu Xin was certain that one or more factions were plotting something behind the scenes. Their chief aim was to plunge the entire populace into terror.

Take the Eastern City for example, where they now stood—a district where officials of various ministries resided. Even if only commoners were slain here in a violent rampage, it would be enough to terrify the officials. If the officials panicked, the Three Departments and Six Ministries, along with the Nine Temples and Five Bureaus, would all descend into chaos. Once the government fell into disorder, the entire realm of Great Tang would fracture in an instant.

This was clearly a plot of immense proportions.

“Master Du, Master Du, what’s wrong? Blood—why is there blood?”

The man, wounded by a knife, had collapsed. Only then did the young lady react. Seeing the blood on her hands, her face turned pale, and she burst into tears. Judging by her demeanor, she was unmistakably a noble daughter, never having witnessed such violence, and now utterly at a loss.

“Thank you, young hero, for saving us. Please… please, take Lingyu somewhere safe. She—she is from Hejian, the Princess of Hejian…”

The man raised his head to look at Lu Xin, as if wanting to say more, but only managed half a sentence before slipping into unconsciousness. The girl, seeing this, cried even harder. Lu Xin felt troubled; pursuers could arrive at any moment. He wished to leave the city at once, yet could not bear to abandon the two before him.

“Don’t worry, he isn’t dead, just fainted. Miss Lingyu, go inside, and don’t come out for anything.”

“I can’t… no, I can’t go in!”

At the suggestion to enter the house, the girl shook her head repeatedly, panic deepening in her eyes. Lu Xin had no time for her hesitation, and was about to scold her when Tu Chengli’s loud voice came from behind.

“Xin, people from the Divine Shrine are here, hurry up and leave.”

“Don’t just stand there—take him inside!”

Lu Xin roared, no longer daring to delay, and shot out like an arrow. Instantly, sounds of fighting erupted nearby; Yue Buhui and the others had already engaged with the Divine Shrine’s forces.

“Who are you, daring to commit murder under the emperor’s nose, slaughtering so many innocent citizens?”

“Hmph, you’re unreasonable. These people weren’t killed by us—the murderer has already fled.”

Yang Qin, furious, launched herself at the shrine’s spiritual officer with a flurry of blows. Yue Buhui and Yang Xiu stood aside, watching the fight, showing no intention of fleeing. Lu Xin cursed inwardly—this was bad—and rushed back. The only survivor of the Desolate Temple case in Xuanzhou, Wang Quanyi, was already dead; even if he himself were caught, there was still hope for exoneration. But if they killed anyone from the Divine Shrine now, it would mean true enmity with the entire imperial court. The charge of rebellion would be unavoidable, and even washing in the Yellow River would not cleanse them.

“Stop!”

“Xin, why are you back again?”

Seeing Lu Xin shouting from afar and running back, Tu Chengli drew a sharp breath, signaling him with his eyes to hurry and escape. At the same time, Yang Xiu entered the fray, quickly forcing the spiritual officer to retreat. Both sides paused their struggle in that instant.

“We didn’t commit these murders. If the Divine Shrine wishes to arrest someone, take me—it has nothing to do with them.”

Lu Xin stepped forward, his gaze dark but resolute. The spiritual officer stared at him for a moment, then swept his eyes over Yue Buhui and the Yang sisters, sneering coldly.

“Wang Quanyi had just reported locating the main culprit in the Xuanzhou Desolate Temple massacre, then died mysteriously. You claim it’s unrelated to you—who would believe that?”

“You don’t believe me? Then examine the wounds—every one was inflicted by a dagger. These people were killed before we entered the alley. If the Divine Shrine lacks expertise, let the Grand Tribunal examine them.”

“The Grand Tribunal? Well then, speak of the devil and he appears. I’ll wait and see what their verdict is.”

The Divine Shrine’s men were clearly wary of Yue Buhui and the Yang sisters, showing no intention to press the attack. Lu Xin, following the sound of footsteps, turned to see the Grand Tribunal’s party at the entrance to the alley, coming from the direction he had just fled. Yet, the Tribunal officers did not immediately notice Lu Xin and his group; their attention was drawn to the man lying in the middle of the alley and the young girl.

“You are… from the Hejian Prince’s residence? Zhu Guangde of the Grand Tribunal, at your service, Princess Lingyu.”

“Get up—hurry, save him, save him!”

Upon seeing the Grand Tribunal’s officers, the girl finally recovered a fragment of her composure. Lu Xin, seizing the opportunity, hissed at his companions to make their escape. But the Divine Shrine would not give up so easily. The spiritual officer stomped several times atop the wall, leaping over the heads of the crowd to block the only exit. The other onmyoji each produced a jade talisman, pressing their palms to it and drawing swords seemingly out of thin air. These swords were wrapped in yellow charms, emanating powerful magical energy.

For the first time, a look of shock appeared on Yue Buhui’s usually impassive face.

“Spatial divine talismans—Buddhist techniques—Sumeru Mustard Seed! The Divine Shrine truly wields astonishing power.”

“Fox, what is Sumeru Mustard Seed? These fellows clearly carry no weapons—where are these swords coming from?”

The scholar, startled by Yue Buhui’s tone, hurriedly hid behind Lu Xin. The expressions of the Yang sisters grew grave as well.

“According to Buddhist lore, in the western lands of India there stands a sacred mountain, vast and boundless, the center of the universe. The mustard seed is tiny, smaller than dust. Yet the monks believe that in each flower lies a world, in each leaf a Bodhi. This world of ours is but one small realm among the three thousand great worlds. Sumeru contains the mustard seed; the mustard seed contains Sumeru. It is the Buddhist understanding of the Way of Space, mysterious and profound. But now, it seems the imperial court harbors a truly extraordinary monk!”

Yue Buhui stared intently at the Divine Shrine’s men, his voice low. Hearing this, Lu Xin immediately recalled the venerable Master Xuanzang he had met upon first arriving in Chang’an. If the court possessed a great monk, it could only be him.

“Oh? You can discern Buddhist technique? Young man, your perception is impressive. Alas, aiding fugitives of the court is unforgivable.”

The spiritual officer sneered, six golden talismans flying out behind him. He too drew a longsword from his jade talisman. The sword crackled with lightning, resonating with the other onmyoji’s magical blades.

Boom!

A massive thundercloud began to form above the alley, plunging the surroundings into darkness.

“Now, surrender, and it’s not too late to return with me to the Divine Shrine. Otherwise, there will be no mercy!”

“We are innocent—why should we go with you?”

Lu Xin shouted in fury, his aura exploding forth, peculiar patterns appearing in his pupils—resembling Buddhist Sanskrit, or perhaps Taoist incantations. Yue Buhui and the Yang sisters looked on in astonishment.

“Xin, you’ve cultivated magical power?”

“Yes, it’s a long story—I’ll tell you later. For now, we must find a way to escape.”

“Hahaha… Under the emperor’s nose, where do you think you can flee? Soul Wardens, form the demon-slaying array!”

“We obey!”

All members of the Divine Shrine suddenly bowed their heads, each wielding a sword, forming seals with their other hand, chanting incantations. The thundercloud above their heads grew ever larger, its light flickering, colors swirling—a sense of terror brewing within. Yang Qin, impatient as ever, cared little for being trapped in an array. She darted forward, rushing the spiritual officer, but was blocked by a sudden bolt of lightning.

Roar!

A sound as if from another world—it was not merely a streak of lightning, but a figure emerging from the depths of the thundercloud. Not a ray, but a deity!

The word “deity” is usually reserved for idols in temples, yet what Lu Xin saw now was a three-headed, six-armed, crystal-clear divine figure. Though only half its body was visible, its majestic countenance, the third eye open, the golden armor and jade-belted robes, all radiated supreme divine might. This was no clay idol, but a true celestial being.

The scholar, gazing up at the scene in the thundercloud, trembled in fear, his legs giving way as he nearly knelt. Lu Xin too felt the pressure, as though his body were crushed by countless mountains, about to collapse at any moment.

“This is bad—it’s the Heavenly Net Illusion. Everyone, close your eyes and quiet your mind—banish this deity from your thoughts!”

Yue Buhui shouted, quickly supporting the scholar to halt his kneeling. He himself bowed his head and shut his eyes tightly. Lu Xin and the others followed suit, closing their eyes and shutting off their hearing. Two seconds later, the oppressive force vanished. Yet those two seconds were enough for the Divine Shrine to launch their attack.

As soon as Lu Xin opened his eyes, the spiritual officer’s magical blade was upon him; there was no time to retaliate, only to dodge to the side. No sooner had he evaded the sword than six golden talismans appeared overhead, unleashing a mountain of fire that crashed down fiercely.

“Heavenly cycles, life and death are void—seal of fate!”

Without hesitation, Lu Xin’s pupils contracted, both palms rising to unleash an enormous Buddha hand. In an instant, Buddha’s light filled the air, blocking the flames for half a second. Seizing the moment, Lu Xin rolled from beneath the spiritual officer’s feet, fleeing toward the alley’s exit without looking back.

“Fox, Miss Yang Xiu, do not harm anyone—split up and escape!”

“Hmph, Buddhist arts? With such meager skill, you think you can escape?”

The spiritual officer, seeing his attacks thwarted, his gaze turned cold. He glanced at Yue Buhui and the others, sneered, and then turned to pursue Lu Xin. After all, the Divine Shrine’s true target was the youth involved in the Desolate Temple case.

Bursting out of the alley, Lu Xin found himself in the wide space between two wards. The once-bustling street was now devoid of citizens. In the distance, hordes of soldiers approached, armed with swords and bows. The entire city of Chang’an seemed to have entered a state of emergency lockdown.