Chapter Fifty-Six: A Helping Hand

As soon as martial arts were mentioned, Xuanfa’s eyes lit up with excitement. He said joyfully, “You saw it just now too? Excellent, excellent, please give me your assessment, tell me what’s lacking. You weren’t bad yourself—knowing you couldn’t match my palm strength, you used your sword energy to deflect it. There are few in the world capable of that. You’ve made remarkable progress in the years since we last met.”

Zi Wuzhuo sighed, “You truly are still that martial arts fanatic who can’t see anything else.” In their youth, both had been outstanding talents of their generation, fighting side-by-side in the famous dispute between the southern and northern factions of Tianshan. Their mutual admiration had blossomed into deep friendship. Xuanfa had once remarked that while the Great Demon-Subduing Pestle art possessed immense power, its techniques were overly simple and lacked adaptability. There was always someone stronger in the martial world, and if he were to meet an opponent with even greater internal strength, he would surely be at a disadvantage. He was seeking to create a new move to elevate the Great Demon-Subduing Pestle beyond the reach of ordinary men, transforming its nine stances into ten.

At that time, the Great Demon-Subduing Pestle was already renowned for its formidable power. How could it possibly be improved? Zi Wuzhuo had thought Xuanfa was simply boasting and paid it no mind. Little did he know that Xuanfa’s will was unwavering. After returning to Shaolin, he secluded himself for over a decade, finally creating the technique known as the Three Infernal Catastrophes.

Why name it so? Because mastering this move was extremely arduous. Each of the three forms brought agony akin to descending into the deepest hell. Zi Wuzhuo said, “Using such fearsome palm force against a young man seems beneath your dignity as an elder.”

Xuanfa looked perplexed. “I asked you to critique my martial arts, not to scold me.”

Zi Wuzhuo replied, “Do you know who that young man you injured is? Or how he relates to me?”

Xuanfa scratched his head and smiled wryly. “Huizhu said his name was Li Chongyuan, but as for his relationship with you, I don’t know. Well, Zi Wuzhuo, is there a connection?”

Huizhi, who had been watching, groaned inwardly: “This uncle is a martial artist of the highest order, but he’s utterly oblivious to the ways of the world. Didn’t he see the youth perform the disciple’s salute to Zi Wuzhuo just now?”

He dared not speak his mind and could only gesture frantically. Xuanfa grew even more confused. “Huizhi, why are you making hand signs? Did I injure your throat so you can’t speak?”

Huizhi was mortified.

Zi Wuzhuo, furious, said, “Li Chongyuan is my personal disciple! You attacked him without justification—do you think so little of the Tianshan Sect?”

“Ah!” Only then did Xuanfa understand. Though simple-minded, he knew that if handled poorly, this would jeopardize decades of good relations between the two sects. He hastily retrieved a handful of Supreme Nine Yang Revitalizing Pills from his robe and hurried over to press them into Li Chongyuan’s hand, laughing, “Here, young man, these pills are miraculous—they’ll help your injuries, and may even benefit your internal strength. Just take them as my apology. If that’s not enough, how about I stand here and let you land three solid palm strikes? I won’t block or dodge.”

Li Chongyuan, holding the pills, could only smile wryly. This venerable monk acted just like a child. Huizhi, however, was heartbroken; the Supreme Nine Yang Revitalizing Pills were incredibly rare. Most martial artists would treasure even a single one as a priceless heirloom, yet here his uncle was, handing out a whole handful as if they were candies from a street vendor.

Zi Wuzhuo, knowing Xuanfa’s naivety, didn’t press the matter. Thankfully, Li Chongyuan’s injuries were not severe and would heal with a few days’ rest. Gaining these pills also gave him a valuable safeguard for his future travels. Zi Wuzhuo cupped his hands and said, “Very well, let’s call it even—my pupil is inexperienced, and hardship is a necessary teacher. We won’t trouble you further. Farewell!” With that, he led his group toward the boat.

But Xuanfa called after him, “Wait, my friend! You haven’t yet critiqued my new technique!”

Zi Wuzhuo’s anger flared. “You injure my disciple and now want the master’s commentary? That’s outrageous! Why don’t I experience your Three Infernal Catastrophes myself?” With that, he leapt before Xuanfa, hand on his sword hilt.

Xuanfa was overjoyed. “Excellent, excellent! It’s best if you try it yourself. Let’s spar quickly, and you can critique me after. That way, we won’t delay your journey.” He began to channel his energy, preparing to fight.

Though quick-tempered, Huizhi was thoughtful and understood the gravity of the situation. One was the head of Tianshan’s Mingxin Grotto, the other a high monk of Shaolin’s Damo Hall—if they fought, it would be no minor matter. It would surely sow discord between the sects and give schemers in the martial world ammunition. Even if the abbot would be powerless against Xuanfa upon their return, he would surely punish Huizhi heavily.

Panicked, he knelt before Xuanfa to plead. Seeing the great disciple of the Disciplinary Hall kneeling, the other young monks dared not remain standing and all knelt in supplication.

Xuanfa sighed. “Back in the day, Zi Wuzhuo and I would fight at the drop of a hat, and fighting made us friends. There were none of these rules.”

Huizhi pleaded, “Uncle, times have changed. Back then, you were both young disciples—no matter how hard you fought, it was just practice among peers. But now you are both highly esteemed. If you fight, it’s not just a personal contest—it’s Shaolin versus Tianshan. You must reconsider.”

Xuanfa patted his head and smiled wryly. “Ah, why is everything so complicated? You’re right, we’d best not fight.” Zi Wuzhuo snorted and turned to board the boat. Just then, one of the younger monks, lacking sense, called out, “We were here first—why are they boarding before us? Boatman, when you return, ferry us across first!”

Li Chongjun, already seething with anger, retorted, “Nonsense! Since when does the Yangtze belong to you? Do you decide who crosses first?”

Huizhi, equally frustrated, replied, “Of course the Yangtze isn’t ours, but is it yours?”

Li Chongjun sneered, “All under heaven belongs to the ruler. You could say it’s mine!”

Huizhi shot back, “And what makes you say that?”

Li Chongjun answered proudly, “Because I am the legitimate imperial prince, the Prince of Yixing!”

At this time, Wu Zetian had abdicated in favor of the Li clan; Zhang Jianzhi and others had enthroned Prince Li Xian, and it was already known throughout the land. But Huizhi and his group hadn’t realized Li Chongjun was of royal blood. They stood dumbfounded, speechless, as they watched Zi Wuzhuo’s party sail away.

Xuanfa asked, “Imperial prince? Prince of Yixing? Is that important?”

Huizhi sighed, “Uncle, an imperial prince is of the highest status.”

“How high?” Xuanfa pressed.

Irritated, Huizhi replied, “Even our abbot would have to kneel before him! We’re fortunate he didn’t hold our disrespect against us—Buddha truly protected us.”

“Ah!” Xuanfa gasped, sucking in a breath.

Having crossed the Yangtze and returned to the northern bank, Li Chongyuan and Lin Qingli first knelt before Zi Wuzhuo and explained all that had happened privately at Tianshan, presenting the letters from Master Wuhua and Wen Wuya. Zi Wuzhuo was not a harsh master, so he merely rebuked them lightly. Upon learning that Zi Lan had already been rescued and was recuperating at Wang’s Apothecary in Luoyang, attended by Wuhua, Wen Wuya, and Du Xin, he breathed a great sigh of relief.

Eager to reunite, they dared not tarry. Li Chongjun purchased several swift horses at great expense from the post station, and they rode through the night toward Luoyang. By the time they reached the outskirts of Zhuma Town, darkness had already fallen.

The Tang dynasty enforced a strict curfew; all city gates were closed by now. Li Chongjun had considered ordering the gates opened, but Zi Wuzhuo forbade it. Although he was of royal blood, Li Chongjun had not yet presented himself in Chang’an to his father, the emperor. If he revealed his status now, the local officials might not believe him, and if word reached the capital, he could be accused of disrespecting his sovereign. So, instead, they found a quiet forest, lit a bonfire, and sat around it sharing dry rations and water.

After some idle conversation, the flames began to die down. Li Chongjun said, “Master, I’ll go gather some firewood nearby.” Zi Wuzhuo nodded. Li Chongyuan quickly offered to accompany his senior. “Don’t stray too far,” Zi Wuzhuo cautioned. He knew that, as the emperor’s legitimate son, Li Chongjun was almost certain to become crown prince, and the struggle for succession was always perilous. He intended to keep his disciple safe at all costs.

Still, with Li Chongyuan accompanying him, he was confident no harm could befall them both.

As they walked and chatted, Li Chongjun asked about the events at Tianshan after Li Chongyuan had been confined to Shengxian Peak. Li Chongjun laughed, “Junior brother, now that the Wu clan has returned the throne to the Lis, my father has ascended the throne. Soon I’ll travel to Chang’an to pay my respects—why not come with me? I could use an ally at court. To be honest, I’ve always roamed the martial world and have no real connections in the capital. The ministers there may not be friendly to me. But if you’re there, it will be different—your father was once a high official, and though he was framed by traitors, now you could reclaim his title. If we support each other, over time, we’ll gather loyal officials. Then you’ll hold high office and enjoy every honor—surely that’s better than wandering the world?”

Li Chongyuan, however, had no desire for officialdom. Since his father’s murder, he knew the dangers of court far outweighed those of the martial world. He smiled and replied, “Thank you for your kindness, brother, but I’m too accustomed to freedom and would chafe under the constraints of office. Still, if you ever need assistance, just send word and I’ll come at once. What I truly seek is justice: those who framed my father and tried to kill me are still at large. When you return to Chang’an, could you use your status to help me investigate? I would be eternally grateful.”

Li Chongjun replied, “That’s easily done. Once I’m in Chang’an, I’ll check the Ministry of Justice’s records.”

As Li Chongyuan seemed about to say more, he quickly changed the subject.