Chapter Ninety-Nine: Di Miao and the White Horse Temple

At this moment, Di Miao was already stepping onto the sixth tier of earthen stairs below ground. She was not on the same side as those two people above. Upon hearing voices from above, Di Miao quietly descended the stairs, turned, and headed in small steps toward the other side of the lateral passage. She had no time to listen to the conversation outside; she needed to seize every moment to search for a chance to escape.

The passage was long and narrow, quite straight. Like the right side, there were eight tiers of earthen stairs, topped by a wooden board. Listening closely, she heard no sound. Di Miao slowly climbed up, pressing with one hand, pushing upwards. It wouldn’t budge, and fine dirt sifted down through the crevice. Clearly, this exit was blocked.

Thinking it over, she used her boot-knife to dig at the gap, hoping to let the dirt spill down. As long as it wasn’t stone pressing it shut, she still had a chance. After a few digs, earth flowed down like a fine stream, and Di Miao was overjoyed. She paid no heed to the dust pouring over her head, closed her eyes and tilted her face upward, quickening her movements.

But after a bit more digging, she paused. She quickly descended the stairs, retracing her steps along the passage, extinguishing all the oil lamps on the walls as she went. Instantly, the corridor was plunged into darkness. Di Miao closed her eyes, adjusted to the blackness, then groped her way back to the blocked exit and resumed digging.

A soft, continuous rustling echoed through the passage. Suddenly, from the other exit came a sharp "click"—the sound of a lock being opened. Di Miao’s heart jolted. Someone was coming down over there!

What to do? What to do? Second Brother, where are you?

...

Where was Di Ying?

No one—human or ghost—could say.

After nightfall, Qin Tiezhong still hadn’t received word that Di Ying had intercepted and killed Xue Huaiyi.

Because the people tasked with following Di Ying had lost him.

Qin Tiezhong could only wait. At this moment, he wanted to send Di Ying a message by dagger, arrow, or whatever means, but with no one able to find him, nothing could be delivered.

As Qin Tiezhong paced anxiously, someone from Lai Wangcai’s faction arrived to call him to the Tribunal for a meeting. Qin Tiezhong instructed his men, “Go search for that fat Di everywhere. If you really can’t find him, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Anyway, his sister is in our hands; no need to worry, let him stew for a few days. Maybe Di Ying has gone after Xue Huaiyi. We’ll just wait for news.”

With his orders given, Qin Tiezhong hurried to the Tribunal.

...

Meanwhile, Xue Huaiyi and a group of phony monks were drinking together when one mentioned Di Ying.

“The Emperor finally transferred that guy out of the Court of Justice. Now he only targets officials, so we don’t have to worry about him coming to cause trouble,” the man said, clearly pleased.

But Xue Huaiyi bristled at the mention of that name. Seeing that it was already late, the city gates locked, his mood soured by the mere mention of Di Ying, Xue Huaiyi stopped drinking. He strode straight to the Tribunal.

He had once enlisted Wu Qiongsi and Wu Chengsi to avenge him and themselves, but despite their many efforts, not a single hair on Di Ying’s head had been harmed. Xue Huaiyi then thought of the Emperor’s “knife”—Lai Wangcai. Last time, Lai Wangcai had been humiliated by Di Ying, beaten with a board and lost face. Xue Huaiyi believed that if the two of them joined forces, they could certainly bring down Di Ying.

A monk overheard Xue Huaiyi’s scheme and tried to persuade him, “Master, let it go. I hear Di Ying is a sly one—we can’t beat him. Besides, all he did was have his bodyguard slap your face, didn’t injure you for real. No need to risk everything over that.”

“Get out!”

How dare he bring that up—especially now? The nerve to mention it, and in such a pointed way!

Xue Huaiyi, furious, kicked the man and stormed into the Tribunal, loudly demanding to see Lai Wangcai.

Lai Wangcai, hearing the visitor was Xue Huaiyi, hurried out to greet him, ushering him respectfully to the seat of honor. No sooner had Xue Huaiyi sat down than Lai Wangcai summoned attendants to serve tea, pour water, bring refreshments and fruit, and himself knelt to massage Xue Huaiyi’s legs, fawning to the extreme.

No one found it strange, nor did anyone feel uneasy. In the Tribunal, composed of scoundrels, thugs, and ruffians, such behavior was all too common.

Xue Huaiyi basked in the service and the envious gazes surrounding him, his sense of achievement swelling instantly, prompting a satisfied sigh.

Qin Tiezhong, upon seeing Xue Huaiyi, felt a sudden pang of unease.

He thought, How come this man hasn’t left the city? Why is he perfectly unharmed? He doesn’t look like he’s had any run-in with Di Ying. What’s going on?

If Di Ying hadn’t gone after Xue Huaiyi, then where had he gone?

A sense of foreboding rose in him. Yet Qin Tiezhong couldn’t leave, nor did he wish to. Lai Wangcai was busy attending Xue Huaiyi, and Qin Tiezhong didn’t want to fall behind. He drove away the two men massaging Xue Huaiyi’s shoulders and took over himself, asking in gentle tones if the pressure was right.

Hearing Xue Huaiyi’s contented sighs, Qin Tiezhong redoubled his efforts, feeling secretly delighted.

He thought: If Di Ying hasn’t intercepted Xue Huaiyi, then he must have gone to White Horse Temple.

That temple was a den of depravity, corrupted by a gang of fake monks, nearly turned into a brothel. How could Di Ying allow that? Xue Huaiyi might be triumphant now, but come tomorrow, he’d see just how disgraceful his fate would be.

Imagining the scene, Qin Tiezhong’s smile became even more ingratiating.

He failed to notice Lai Wangcai’s shadowed glance toward him, nor did he realize that afterward, Xue Huaiyi would drive them all out, leaving only Lai Wangcai and Wang Hongbin.

Lai Wangcai had two chief aides: Qin Tiezhong and Wang Hongbin. The three were inseparable, always scheming together. Whatever the endeavor, they plotted as one.

Now...

When Qin Tiezhong was ushered out, his mind was occupied only with how much longer Di Miao would be kept locked up.

...

“Brother Ying, are you really not going to help Sister Miao?”

In the woodland outside White Horse Temple, Di Shun, lying in the grass, finally couldn’t hold back and asked the man beside him, who was also prone in wait—Di Ying.

Di Ying gave no answer.

Their vantage was elevated enough to see over the temple walls and into the second main hall. The double doors were wide open.

Inside: dozens of monks were drinking, feasting, listening to music, watching dances, indulging in all kinds of debauchery.

The number of women was unclear; some were willing, others forced—some laughing, some crying, some struggling, some beaten.

They: some abducted, some deceived, some robbed, some bought... all manner of suffering.