13: Talking

Wei Zhen's face turned from ashen to purplish-black, his palm already resting on the bronze tiger tally at his waist, a symbol of supreme power.

The tiger tally, sensing its owner's murderous intent, emitted a low hum, and a bone-chilling surge of Qi instantly swept out, causing the clamoring crowd to shiver involuntarily, their voices also quieting down.

The two Grandmaster-realm thugs, as if granted a great pardon, took the opportunity to break free from the jostling crowd and retreated in disarray behind Wei Zhen, their faces filled with shock, bewilderment, and humiliation.

They were accustomed to bullying and had never suffered such indignity, being besieged by commoners.

What shattered their composure even more was that the small, tattered stall, which still appeared empty in their eyes, clearly displayed divine objects in the hundreds of other eyes.

This cognitive dissonance terrified them more than any martial defeat.

"Zhang Xuanyi!" Wei Zhen's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, each word carrying the metallic chill of friction. "You dare to incite people's hearts and stir up commoners to resist the Black Armor Division! You are digging your own grave!"

Zhang Xuanyi, however, seemed not to hear his threat. He merely lowered his head and carefully placed the photocopied yellow talisman, which Little Bean had called "golden paper," into the child's cold little hand.

The moment the talisman touched his skin, a faint warmth spread from Little Bean's arm throughout his body. His empty, blind eyes seemed to brighten for an instant.

"Child, hold it tight." Zhang Xuanyi's voice was impossibly gentle, completely at odds with the tense atmosphere. "This talisman isn't worth much; what's valuable is the sentiment your father exchanged for it by kneeling before the incense burner all night, with his piety and his body covered in incense ash. If the sentiment is there, the gods and buddhas will surely see it."

After speaking, he slowly looked up, his gaze calmly meeting Wei Zhen's eyes, which were almost spitting fire. He grinned, revealing a brilliant yet annoying smile: "Lord Wei, you can't say that. I didn't incite anyone; I was just speaking reason. If you can't see it, it's not because the cloth is problematic, nor is it because their eyes are problematic; it's because there's no fire in your heart."

"What fire?" Wei Zhen subconsciously asked back.

"Incense fire." Zhang Xuanyi stretched out his finger, pointing remotely towards the mountain gate, where incense smoke curled, and devotees prostrated themselves every three steps, utterly devout. "It's also the heart fire of a seeker of the Dao. Your heart only holds iron-clad rules and cold regulations, but it lacks this fire that can resonate with heaven and earth. Therefore, the Dao does not allow you to see, and the Dharma does not allow you to hear. The things on this stall are not meant for you."

"Nonsense!" Wei Zhen, enraged, laughed instead, Qi waves surging around him, making his brocade robe flutter. "My Black Armor Division defends the Dragon and Tiger's vital pulse of Great Xia and protects countless living beings, relying on order and power! You, a country Daoist priest, dare to speak of 'Dao' with me?!"

However, his roar could not suppress the balance in the hearts of the common people.

Zhang Xuanyi's words, simple and direct, resonated deeply with them.

They didn't understand grand philosophies, but they understood who genuinely cared for them and who was high above, treating them as insignificant.

"Celestial Master Zhang is right! We believe in the Celestial Master!"

"The officials' eyes are blinded by power, of course they can't see the real treasures!"

"Get out of Mount Longhu! You are not welcome here!"

The waves of sound grew higher and higher, converging into an invisible torrent that fiercely impacted the "order" Wei Zhen upheld.

His heart was greatly shaken. He found that his proud Grandmaster's pressure seemed somewhat powerless in the face of this aura, formed by the collective wishes of countless commoners.

This power was formless and immaterial, yet as heavy as a mountain.

Wei Zhen's expression flickered. To openly suppress "public opinion" in front of so many people—if this matter reached the capital, his political enemies would surely seize the opportunity to label him as having "incited popular unrest."

He could afford to lose face, but he could not afford to lose his position.

"Good, very good!" Wei Zhen gave Zhang Xuanyi a deep look, his gaze as sinister as a snake. "Zhang Xuanyi, you are very good. You incite ignorant commoners and disturb the peace of the mountain gate. The Black Armor Division will remember this debt. This Mount Longhu is not your personal Daoist temple!"

With that, he flicked his sleeve abruptly and coldly commanded, "Let's go!"

The two thugs felt greatly relieved and dared not speak, following closely behind.

The three parted the crowd and, under the gaze of countless eyes filled with disdain or anger, hurried down the mountain.

Their figures, stretched long in the morning sun, appeared particularly desolate.

As the Black Armor Division left, the tense atmosphere finally eased.

Su Qingzhu rushed forward, lowering her voice, her tone filled with lingering fear and excitement: "My heavens, Xuanyi! You're playing too big! That was an envoy from the Black Armor Division, with a tiger tally on his waist that can mobilize an entire province's army! You just talked him back like that?"

"What else?" Zhang Xuanyi patted the dust off the tattered cloth in front of his knees and sat back on the doorstep, as if nothing had just happened. "Should I really let him pack up the stall and take the mung beans to be 'allocated on demand' to those nobles in the capital?"

He spoke lightly, but in his heart, he dared not be careless in the slightest.

Wei Zhen's retreat was only temporary; his next arrival would surely be with overwhelming force.

He had to improve his strength as quickly as possible.

Just then, in the shadow of the distant bell tower, the Deaf-Mute Daoist Child, who had been silently observing everything, withdrew his gaze.

He turned around, facing the mottled wall, and extended his tender finger. Beside the half-finished character " deep" (abyss) he had just carved, he slowly carved two more characters—" Can cross" (can be crossed).

The three characters together formed " deep Can cross" (The abyss can be crossed).

After carving, his small figure, like a wisp of smoke, silently melted into the deeper shadows, as if he had never appeared.

The crowd did not disperse immediately. Many gathered around, some genuinely seeking talismans, others simply curious, wanting to see what this "divine object" that could make an official suffer looked like.

Zhang Xuanyi's stall suddenly became even livelier than before.

He looked at the faces before him, some simple, some eager, some greedy, and then at the tattered cloth in front of his knees. The feeling of "Well, this stall... has it really become a market?" grew stronger in his heart.

This was no longer a simple street stall.

It had become the center of a vortex, a battlefield where Dao and Dharma, human hearts and power clashed.

Today he won a round, relying on surprise and popular sentiment.

But behind Wei Zhen was the most powerful violent machine of Great Xia, and what divine being did that mysterious Deaf-Mute Daoist Child represent?

Zhang Xuanyi took a deep breath. The morning breeze in the mountains carried a hint of coolness, making his worn Daoist robe sway slightly.

He knew that today's clamor was just the prelude; the real storm had probably just begun to brew.

What would the stone steps at the foot of Mount Longhu look like tomorrow?

He had a faint premonition that today's victory might deter some opportunists, but it would also inevitably attract more and more powerful observers.

Night would eventually fall. And the darkness before dawn is often the deepest.