Chapter 30: Proclamation of the Divine Constable Manor-Mensageiro das Calamidades(Amanhã)

Anguo Temple, Chang'an City.

The Great Zhou Dynasty held a profound reverence for Buddhism. As Anguo Temple was a site frequently bestowed with offerings by the Empress Dowager, news of the fire there spread through Chang'an County like a gale. Not only did many within the city walls rush to assist in firefighting efforts, but devout believers from outside the city also hurried over to help. Even the elderly, unable to contribute, knelt in the distance to pray for divine protection.

For a major incident within Chang'an, the Grand Chancellor, Duke of Jin, naturally arrived to inspect the situation. Consequently, none were more panicked than the Watchman’s Outpost. While they were capable of catching petty thieves, the scarcity of open flames in Chang'an meant they had long neglected fire-extinguishing drills. Faced with such a massive inferno at the temple, they were in complete disarray.

The captain of the outpost directed his men to haul water while keeping a nervous eye on the Duke of Jin’s expression, fearing he would be demoted to a gatekeeper in some remote region. *Why is my luck so wretched? Why did this disaster have to happen on my watch? Alas...*

"Duke of Jin."

Pharmacist Moke was staring intently at the burning temple when he heard a voice. Turning, he saw an elderly man in a wheelchair slowly approaching. The old man wore a hat, his face a map of wrinkles and scars, yet his beard was meticulously groomed. Even seated, his broad shoulders lent a warrior’s air to his ornate robes. Though followed by attendants, no one pushed his chair; the old man was clearly controlling its movement through some unique method.

"Old Minister Yang." Pharmacist Moke hurried forward, bowing to steady the wheelchair, offering the respect due to a senior. "To think this would trouble you to come in person..."

"I've been cooped up at home for too long; it's good to get out and soak in the sun," Old Minister Yang chuckled. "Forgive this old man for not rising to salute you."

"Your words shame me! If you had not saved Moke from the thick of the enemy lines all those years ago, I would not be here today," Pharmacist Moke replied immediately. "You only needed to send word; why endure the trouble of coming yourself?"

"I had no desire to draw attention in this wheelchair, but I heard my granddaughter, who had been missing for days, was finally found. Driven by a grandfather’s love, I had to come." Old Minister Yang sighed. "They say she escaped from beneath Anguo Temple, having starved for days. My poor little granddaughter..."

Pharmacist Moke’s gaze shifted behind the old minister, where a young girl was being tended to by several women. Though she had been cleaned up, her gaunt face and thin frame were proof enough that she had endured what only the impoverished usually face: imprisonment and starvation.

Meanwhile, another voice erupted nearby: "Make way!"

Amidst the clanking of armor, a tall, young martial general strode forward with the gait of a dragon, shoving aside even the formidable ghost warriors in his path. He reached Pharmacist Moke and knelt on one knee. "Your subordinate pays respects to the Duke of Jin!"

"Longchen!" Pharmacist Moke helped the young general up, then spotted a youth nearby sipping warm broth. "Could it be that your kin was also..."

"It is my nephew, sir. He has always been mischievous, and it was only natural he would be deceived," the young general said, cupping his hands. "But for Anguo Temple to dare store lamp oil within Chang'an... their treacherous intent is clear. Every person who knew of this must be executed to serve as a warning!"

Even the monks knew the utility of lamp oil, and the Great Zhou court was certainly no exception. Under the laws of the Great Zhou, lamp oil was strictly forbidden within Chang'an; discovery meant death without exception. Beyond the fire hazard, the greater threat was that anyone could turn themselves into a mobile incendiary device by dousing themselves in oil—a threat others were powerless to stop or neutralize.

Had Anguo Temple not stored lamp oil, the crime of abducting women and children—even if those victims were born into high society—would have been negligible for the temple. In a world where the power of Messengers existed, where demonic entities in secret realms could resurrect infinitely, and where "Main Cities" served as safe zones, the demand for faith was unprecedented. Everyone believed, or rather needed to believe, in a supreme being who could explain these incomprehensible and immutable phenomena.

Commoners aside, nine out of ten Messengers were themselves devout followers of Buddhism. Given such a dense religious atmosphere, even if Anguo Temple committed grievous sins, the public would merely strip the corrupt monks of their titles to preserve the purity of the Buddhist order...

But storing lamp oil was a different matter entirely.

Even a Third-Rank Messenger could be burned to death by a suicide bomber doused in oil if caught off guard. Most defensive artifacts consumed spiritual energy by usage count or duration; the warrior monks who died in the temple fire had resisted the flames for a few seconds with their Arhat Robes before their energy was depleted, leaving them to be consumed. A Third-Rank Messenger might last longer, but the toxic fumes generated by such a fire would trap them regardless.

"I have already dispatched men to raid the Zhengde Temple and Dajue Chan Monastery in Chang'an County," Pharmacist Moke said, his face darkening. "The fleeing monks of Anguo Temple will be brought to justice soon. To dare store lamp oil is a crime deserving of death!"

He looked around and declared loudly, "Anguo Temple has committed countless evils, abducting goodness knows how many innocent women and children over the years. I will get to the bottom of this, find as many missing loved ones as possible, and bring you all justice!"

"The Duke of Jin!"

"With the Duke of Jin in charge, there is finally hope for justice!"

"Duke, you must find my poor child!"

The people surrounding Pharmacist Moke were no commoners; they were influential figures of Chang'an, scions of noble houses or wealthy landowners. Every one of them had a relative missing in the city. Now that Anguo Temple was exposed as the culprit, their despair ignited with the hope of reclaiming their kin.

Of course, there were many other powerful figures, like Old Minister Yang and the young general, who had already recovered their loved ones. They came to offer thanks and to lay the groundwork for carving up the spoils of Anguo Temple. The temple had been able to support Messengers because, beyond donations, it controlled a secret realm. Now that the colossus was falling, they, as victims, were entitled to compensation.

The young general walked out of the crowd toward Xue Yan, who was still sipping his hot pork bone soup. "Third Uncle—"

"Rest assured, Anguo Temple is finished this time." Xue Huaiyi reached out and ruffled Xue Yan’s hair. "The compensation due to you will not be a penny short. You are at the right age; it is time you promoted to a Messenger. Let the accumulated wealth of Anguo Temple serve as your foundation."

"Heh, I knew Third Uncle wouldn't let me suffer," Xue Yan said, clearly idolizing his uncle. However, he was more concerned with another matter: "Did you find An Wu, An Liu, and the others?"

Xue Huaiyi shook his head. "The fire is too intense; we cannot even extinguish it, let alone search inside. And based on what you told me... there is no chance they survived."

"Is that so..." Xue Yan’s expression didn't change much, but his tone dropped.

"Go back and practice your spearwork," Xue Huaiyi advised. "Stop dreaming about secret manuals. If you were a Messenger, those bald donkeys wouldn't have dared to harm you. Even in Chang'an, you need power to protect yourself."

"Yes," Xue Yan nodded. Then he asked, "And... did you find that group of people?"

"No," Xue Huaiyi replied. "We only confirmed they ate noodles at the shop across from Anguo Temple before vanishing. There are no eyewitness reports at the city gates. While it's possible they are still in the city, if their message was true, then... they have already left Chang'an and returned to the Thieves' Home."

"What is the Thieves' Home?" Though Xue Yan knew of secret realms, he had never studied such obscure information.

"We'll talk when we get home." Xue Huaiyi didn't want to explain it here.

"Did they steal something very precious?" Xue Yan asked curiously. "I saw their leader carrying a large bag and holding a new blade; it must have been from the vault! They seemed to treat it with such care—was it a powerful artifact?"

"Nothing truly precious is stored at Anguo Temple; what they keep there are merely vulgar, inconsequential items," Xue Huaiyi said. "As for that blade... it is indeed valuable, but it is not a magical artifact."

"Hey, Blackie!"

Hearing a voice from behind, Xue Yan turned to see the young Miss Yang calling to him. Irritated, he retorted, "Stop calling me Blackie! I’ve put up with you long enough. Do you have any manners?"

"I didn't know your name, so I called you by the impression you left on me," Miss Yang pouted. "I only know you’re a brainless Blackie."

"My name is Xue Yan!" he snapped. "As if you’re so brilliant."

"If I hadn't pulled you away, you would have been roasted like a pig, so clearly my brain is a little bigger than yours," she said smugly. "I’m Yang Qianqian. Come visit me when you have time!"

She was soon pulled away by her aunts, with faint admonitions of "a lady shouldn't speak so loudly" drifting back. Xue Yan turned to see his Third Uncle looking at him with an inscrutable smile. Flushing, he grumbled, "What?"

"Nothing." Xue Huaiyi looked toward the old man in the wheelchair. "The granddaughter of the former Chancellor, Minister Yang..."

The victims included the Xue, Yang, Li, and Su families—all powerful clans of the Central Plains. Not a single victim had a background in the Northern martial nobility... Xue Huaiyi caught the eye of Minister Yang in the distance, and both saw the same bitterness reflected in each other.

"Third Uncle," Xue Yan tried to change the subject, "does this mean that although the Anguo Temple vault was robbed, nothing truly precious was lost? Then why did they save us and burn the temple down?"

"I don't know," Xue Huaiyi said, suppressing his own frustration. "Perhaps they obtained something from the secret realm..."

At that moment, a grand voice resonated across the sky of Chang'an, ringing clearly in everyone's ears:

*"Divine Marquis Mansion Announcement: Four unknown thieves have recently entered the Thieves' Home. They have successfully stolen the Legendary Artifact 'Bingzi Jiaolin' from Anguo Temple in Chang'an. They are hereby wanted."*

...

In Jiangnan City, some had not yet recovered from the first announcement, but by the second, almost everyone was kneeling on the ground.

"It is a divine oracle!"

"The gods have spoken!"

"So gods truly exist!"

"Gods protect us, gods protect us!"

In the Shang household, Shang Qia stared blankly after hearing the three announcements. He suddenly grabbed a servant nearby: "Go! Send word to my father... No." He immediately dismissed his own thought. "Tell the Head Instructor to seal the residence. No one is to enter or leave. Everyone is to stay in their own courtyard as if under curfew. Anyone who violates this will face family law!"

...

Outside the City of Eternal Night.

"Do not kneel!"

"Get up! Get up!"

"Why are you kneeling to the monsters of the Divine Marquis Mansion? Get up!"

Ying Le cracked her whip, driving her chariot into the city while lashing out at anyone who dared to kneel on the road. When someone actually dared to stand, she lashed them again, cursing, "To see your Emperor and not kneel—utter insolence!"

She whipped her way through the commoners, officials, and nobles alike. Facing a near-mad Empress, they couldn't even flee, only praying that their pleas might reach her. As the chariot approached the city gates, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, some collapsing to the ground, unable to stand.

However, the chariot suddenly stopped.

The guard kneeling beside the chariot felt his scalp tingle, his mind blank. Despair gripped his heart; he didn't know whether to kneel or stand, nor did he know if his current position was inside or outside the City of Eternal Night... though in most cases, the location only changed how the Empress chose to kill him.

*Tap.*

A pair of beautiful, fair, bare feet appeared in his vision. The arches were elegantly curved, each toe like a polished pearl, the nails meticulously trimmed. As these jade feet stepped into the filthy mud of the city gate, the extreme contrast held a beauty akin to the desecration of the sacred.

The feet stopped before the guard, nearly touching his nose. Whatever thoughts raced through his mind, he took a deep breath.

"Does it smell good?" a curious voice came from above.

"N-no, there is no scent," the guard replied, trembling, knowing his death was certain. "This lowly one only smells the earth."

Then, Ying Le did something no one expected: she stood on one leg and lifted her foot to take a sniff, indifferent to the indecency of the motion or whether her robes were revealing.

"Very good. You did not lie."

Ying Le hauled the guard up and tossed him toward the city gate, pointing at it. "Did you post this?"

The guard stared at the wall for a moment, then immediately shook his head. "No! Absolutely not! The wanted posters are kept in our barracks; they are never posted publicly!"

"Is that so..."

Ying Le threw the guard aside and squinted at the four wanted posters on the city wall.

"Divine Marquis Mansion wanted poster..." she ground her teeth, savoring the words, and reached out to rub her right chest, where an old, deep wound seemed to ache once more.

"Divine Marquis Mansion!"