Chapter 111: The Human Heart

"Stop, stop! What do you think you are doing? Are you rebelling? Do you not fear falling into the Avici Hell after you die?"

Magistrate Wang felt he was the unluckiest man alive. He had finally cleared the road and was waiting peacefully for the imperial dispatch to leave Guo Bei County. He truly just wanted to depart in peace, without any incidents. Yet, misfortune had descended from the heavens while he sat in his office. A mob was actually besieging a temple. This was intolerable—did they not fear the Avici Hell? While he was no devout Buddhist, in the Great Song Empire, both Buddhism and Taoism were pillars of stability; those who attacked them were, by definition, rioters.

"Lower your weapons! Put them down! Anyone who keeps holding a weapon shall be charged with rebellion and executed on the spot!" Magistrate Wang commanded.

With a flurry of movement, the bailiffs—who usually dared not step out at night—suddenly found their courage. Each held their blade aloft, pressing forward against the gathered townspeople.

The villagers were already no match for the monks alone. Now, with the addition of armed bailiffs, they were stunned, retreating step after step.

Only the woman kneeling on the ground continued to sob. Aside from weeping, she did not know what else she could do. Why had it come to this? She remembered that when she was a child, everyone in Lanruo Temple was kind. They would even distribute alms to the people during famine years. If not for that, why would her own husband have come to protect the temple? Since when had they become like this?

The monks had truly changed.

There was killing intent.

Shen Shi saw the monk’s face suddenly turn vicious. "Stop your damn wailing! Greed is a grave sin; go ask the underworld for your money!" With that, he swung his staff directly at the weeping woman!

"No!"
"Sister-in-law!"
"You madmen, you’ve lost your minds!"

The villagers were already at a disadvantage against the bailiffs. Pinned down by the blades, they couldn't reach her in time to help, and they began to curse in horror. They were men; if they were beaten, they could take it. A single blow wouldn't kill them. But if that staff struck the weeping woman, she would surely be crippled.

The woman was completely paralyzed. It wasn't that she didn't want to dodge; she simply didn't know how. Why? Why were they like this?

The long staff whistled through the air!
One arm’s length away!
One fist’s length away!

Just as the staff was about to land on the widow's shoulder, and just as all the villagers were roaring in fury, a figure appeared behind the woman!

It was Shen Shi.

He could no longer watch this. This was not his business, but seeing the monks kill, he could not stand idly by.

"Shen Shi, what are you doing? Stop!"

Magistrate Wang was startled by Shen Shi’s sudden movement. He had noticed Bao Zheng and Shen Shi when he arrived. Even though Shen Shi was dressed as a scholar, the Magistrate knew his martial prowess. In his view, if Shen Shi started fighting, these monks would surely be beaten to death.

Magistrate Wang roared for him to stop, but Shen Shi paid him no mind. They should be grateful, however, that Shen Shi did not intend to kill. After all, their purpose was to collect a debt, not to commit murder. Morally speaking, since the townspeople had died and suffered injuries protecting the temple, it was only right for the temple to take responsibility. Even an emperor would not send hungry soldiers to war. Unfortunately, this was Lanruo Temple—a temple whose monks were blinded by greed. Without sufficient pressure, they would never cough up the money they had seized. Having visited the marketplace earlier, Shen Shi understood this well.

Reason was understood, but the only remaining method was one that did not rely on logic: violence.

The monks wanted to use force so that the people would be too afraid to ask for their money. The people were desperate; if they didn't fight, they couldn't survive.

Shen Shi’s hand gripped the descending staff with precision. With a twist of his wrist, the staff was deflected, sliding sideways to strike the ground with a loud thud, just missing the woman’s shoulder.

The monk was stunned.

Before he could recover, Shen Shi flicked his wrist upward. He didn't seem to use much strength, merely utilizing the momentum of the staff’s descent. With a sharp flip of his hand, he struck the monk’s chin. A crisp crack echoed out, and the monk’s mouth filled with blood! His upper and lower teeth had slammed together, and at least five bloodied teeth flew from his mouth.

Not killing him did not mean he would not be taught a lesson. Buddhism had spread to the East, and even the Buddha demanded offerings, but why should the people protect a temple that gave them nothing in return? Instead, the monks beat their own believers—no, they should be called their providers.

Shen Shi raised his hand, twisted it, and moved behind the monk. With a heavy palm, he struck the back of the monk’s neck! The monk’s body went limp, his upper torso slamming into the ground as he passed out without a sound. With Shen Shi’s current strength, if he wanted to kill someone, it would be effortless.

"Shengzhi!"
"Junior brother!"

Seeing Shen Shi toss their own aside as if they were infants, the other monks cried out his dharma name in terror.

A young girl (Gongsun Jiuniang) rushed out, embracing her terrified sister-in-law. The girl looked at her traumatized sister-in-law, then at the toothless monk, and finally, her gaze lingered on Shen Shi for a long, long time.

"You are courting death!"

When monks rule a region and enjoy the arrogance of power, someone like Shen Shi, who dared to strike back, became a thorn in their side. The monks charged at him, eyes burning with hatred.

Courting death? Was that something a monk should say? They wanted to beat the villagers to death and that was fine, but because he struck one of them, he had to die? They were truly monks of Lanruo Temple, destined to be eaten by demons sooner or later.

"Young Master, be careful!"

The girl cried out in alarm as the monks abandoned her and her sister-in-law to swarm Shen Shi.

Shen Shi’s expression was cold. He did not retreat in the slightest; instead, he stepped forward to meet them. He was truly enraged now. He had never seen such tyrannical monks. Even in the future, in that world of rampant materialism, monks were never this oppressive. They not only dared to strike, but their every move was a killing blow.

Perhaps this was the world of *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio*—where people were not like people, and monks were not like monks. Whose fault was it? Was it the Tree Demon? Did the demon lure them into this?

Even with his extraordinary eyes, Shen Shi found it difficult to tell.

A monk reached him first! The shadow of a staff descended!

Shen Shi repeated his previous move, deflecting the staff with his hand. He did not lock weapons with him; the moment they made contact, he twisted and pulled! This was battlefield combat, where entanglement was the greatest taboo. At this moment, Shen Shi was neither a scholar nor a cultivator; he was a warrior—a warrior protecting the families of those who had fought on the battlefield.