Chapter 1019 of 1346
Chapter 1019: Entangled and Complex
Chapter 1019: Entangled and Complex
With deep unease in his heart, Chen Jianchou met Chen Jianqiu once again.
This uneasiness was not born solely of affection but also out of worry for his own future.
Their meeting place was a bookstore run by Westerners, quiet and unassuming. Few locals came here because it sold only Western books. The store owner was also a Western lady, making conversation difficult for those who did not speak her language.
Chen Jianqiu was of mixed Western descent, so she spoke the language fluently. This bookstore was one of her frequent haunts.
It was a three-story shophouse. The first floor was a spacious hall filled with bookshelves; the second floor held small private rooms for reading or quiet meetings; and the third floor was the owner’s private residence, where guests were usually not allowed.
Chen Jianqiu was waiting in a small sitting room on the third floor.
Chen Jianchou was a remarkably gifted man, fluent in five languages. Besides the official language of the Central Plains Court and the local dialect of Poluo, he also mastered the languages of the Lune Kingdom, the Ibia Kingdom, and Shakya.
Thus, he conversed easily with the beautiful Western proprietress, who was in her fifties. Both of them spoke Lunic with effortless grace. In this regard, Qi Xuansu could not compare to Chen Jianchou.
Language itself held power. To master a tongue was to gain the source of its spells and incantations. Language was also the mirror of a civilization’s beliefs, so if one delved too deeply, one would be shaped by its worldview—a truth both beneficial and perilous.
The Daoist Order encouraged Western studies, believing disciples should understand the West deeply so as to adopt its virtues and discard its flaws. Yet they did not advocate learning Western languages early on due to the mental influence they carried.
The Wanxiang Daoist Palace offered no Western-language courses. Only after one became a high-ranking Daoist—when one’s mind and beliefs were deemed mature—could one study Western tongues for diplomatic or scholarly contact. Even then, it was optional, treated merely as a tool and never an ideology.
This was what cost Chen Jianchou a spot in the Daoist Order. He had learned too much and thought too deeply when he was at a low rank. Since few knew his relationship to Xu Jiaorong, the Daoist examiners viewed him with suspicion and disfavor.
Climbing to the third floor, Chen Jianchou suddenly realized why Chen Jianqiu had chosen this place. There must be a back entrance leading straight to the owner’s residence, likely an external staircase, built apart from the main hall.
The third floor was furnished in a blend of Eastern and Western styles. The screens, carvings, and railings were of the traditional Central Plains design, but the furniture was distinctly Western. Chen Jianchou sat gracefully on the sofa, having already prepared a pot of red tea.
Chen Jianchou took a deep breath to calm himself, inhaling the soothing and refreshing fragrance that lingered in the air. Then, he seated himself across from Chen Jianqiu.
The two exchanged glances. Chen Jianqiu felt a little awkward. However, for Chen Jianchou, it was mostly joy, as such moments of solitude with the princess were rare and precious.
Oftentimes, the lonelier a person was, the more they yearned for affection. Having lost his parents at a young age, Chen Jianchou had only Xu Jiaorong, his godmother, whom he saw just a few times each year. Deep down, he still longed to meet a gentle and beautiful woman of his dreams.
Unable to withstand Chen Jianchou’s intense gaze, Chen Jianqiu averted her eyes and asked, “Brother Chou, have there been any new developments lately?”
Chen Jianchou collected his thoughts and shared his theory. “In the past, the followers of Wu Luo entered her divine kingdom willingly through their dreams. But I believe those elixirs might act as a catalyst, forcing people to enter Wu Luo’s divine kingdom involuntarily in their dreams.”
Chen Jianqiu pondered for a moment and said thoughtfully, “What you say does make sense. The first time my father saw the blood-red bodhisattva, he was still far away. But each time since, the distance has grown shorter. That suggests that the more elixirs he consumes, the deeper he falls into his dreams and the closer he is drawn to Wu Luo’s divine kingdom. Perhaps he would have fully entered Wu Luo’s divine kingdom when he finally stood before the Bodhisattva.”
Chen Jianchou took out the medical record from Huasheng Hall and said, “The record clearly states that the King should not continue taking any elixirs, yet Chief Deputy Chen still insisted on them. There must be something deeply suspicious about this.”
In a hushed tone, Chen Jianqiu asked, “Do you mean to say that Chief Deputy Chen might be connected to the Lingshan Witch Cult?”
“I didn’t say that,” Chen Jianchou quickly denied it. “It’s all just speculation for now. There’s no solid proof.”
Chen Jianqiu smiled gently. “It’s just the two of us here. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Has there been anything in the palace related to the Lingshan Witch Cult?” Chen Jianchou asked.
Chen Jianqiu thought carefully before replying, “Of course there’s nothing in the palace tied to the Lingshan Witch Cult. Even if there were, it would be well hidden.
After all, Thanglong Prefecture lies right under the eyes of the Sheji Palace, unlike other remote corners of the kingdom. I know that the Poluo Daoist Mansion has planted spies in the royal palace, so anyone caught worshipping the Lingshan Witch Cult would be taken away by the Daoist authorities in no time.”
She paused briefly, then changed the topic. “However, ever since my mother passed away, my father has devoted himself to Buddhism. He often reads sutras and even invites high-ranking monks into the palace to preach.”
Chen Jianchou frowned slightly, his expression a little surprised.
Poluo flourished with Buddhist influence, and the Daoists did not restrict the common people’s faith. But a ruler was required to follow Daoism. If he did not, the Daoists would not forcibly correct him, but they would not acknowledge his legitimacy either, making his throne unstable.
Was the King of the Yu Kingdom not afraid of provoking the Daoists’ wrath by summoning Buddhist monks into the court?
That was when it occurred to Chen Jianchou why the other high-ranking Daoists, aside from Chief Deputy Chen, did not intervene when the King had fallen ill. Their silence was a statement. Since the King believed in Buddhism, why not let the Buddhists heal him?
The King of Fenglin called himself an emperor because he claimed to be the leader of the Tenmon Sect. He wrestled for power with the Daoist Order because his royal family was protected by two Immortal elders and the Three Great Kami—a foundation of immense strength.
However, these small kingdoms in Poluo had no such backing and could only be manipulated at will by the Daoist authorities. How could they ever compare with the King of Fenglin?
Besides, during the Fenglin Campaign, the Daoists stormed the capital and forced the Fenglin King to sign a humiliating treaty that stripped him of his title as emperor, demoting him to a mere king.
For the King of the Yu Kingdom to embrace Buddhism right under the Daoists’ gaze was just a recipe for disaster.
Chen Jianqiu noticed what Chen Jianchou was thinking and gave a faint, helpless smile. “I’ve tried to dissuade Father, but he wouldn’t listen. His devotion to Buddhism is tied to my late mother, so I truly have no right to press him further.”
Chen Jianchou had indeed heard the story of the King and his queen.
The queen had once been a Western naturalist who came to Poluo on an expedition. By chance, she met the King of the Yu Kingdom, who had been widowed for many years and was traveling in disguise. They journeyed across Poluo together and fell in love. Defying every obstacle, the King made this Westerner his queen, and together, they had a daughter—Chen Jianqiu.
One of the obstacles was the Daoist Order. In the East-West standoff, the Daoists would never want a Western woman to be a queen of a kingdom, as she could influence Poluo’s political balance. But the Yu King was unshakable in his resolve, and as the most powerful nation in Poluo, the Daoists had no choice but to yield.
Chen Jianchou truly believed that the King’s love for the Queen had been genuine. After all, the Yu Kingdom was often seen as a mini Central Plains. In such a climate, it was seen as an act of defiance for a King to name a Western woman as his queen. It was unacceptable not only to the Daoists but also to the royal family and ministers. Even so, the King persisted, proving that his feelings were sincere. His deep affection for his daughter, Chen Jianqiu, was another testament to that love.
Chen Jianqiu continued, “After Mother passed, Father was consumed by grief. Brother Chou, you know that the Daoists speak of longevity and that one must cherish the present life, as the dead cannot return. So Father could not find solace in such a doctrine. But Buddhism speaks of rebirth and reincarnation, so his conversion was inevitable.”
Chen Jianchou could not disagree. Having studied the scriptures of all Three Religions, he understood that only Buddhism offered spiritual comfort. It painted hope for another life when this one could not be saved. The other two were far too worldly. The Confucians ruled from above and instructed the commoners on how to live, while the Daoists busied themselves with revolutions and governance. Both were forever chasing power.
Chen Jianqiu went on. “After Mother’s death, Father fell into a despair he could not escape. The Daoist scriptures speak only of attaining longevity and perceiving the grand principles of heaven and man. Brother Chou, you’ve read the Primordial Daoist Ancestor’s
Five Thousand Words Classic.
Does it contain a single line that could ease such grief?”
Chen Jianchou shook his head.
Chen Jianqiu continued, “That’s why Father began reading Buddhist sutras. The more he read, the more he wished to hear monks preach about them. Under the encouragement of his eunuchs, he grew close to many Buddhist monks until he was drawn deeper into the religion. This stirred the Daoist Order’s discontent. Were it not for his long and firm reign, as well as the fact that he never openly defied Daoist authority and had merely worshipped the Buddha in secret, he would surely have been deposed as a King by the Daoist Order.”
She sighed softly. “But over the years, the eunuchs who lured Father toward Buddhism have all died suddenly, one after another, each under mysterious circumstances. It must have been the Daoist Order’s warning. Now that Father is gravely ill, the Daoists are surely pleased to see it, wishing for his death so they can install a new King. Even if Chief Deputy Chen was the one who caused his death, the Daoist superiors would at most rebuke her for show. In private, they’d probably praise her for doing well.”
Chen Jianchou was deeply shocked, as he had never imagined that such dark intrigue lay behind it all. Chief Deputy Chen and the King were at odds. The King’s secret conversion to Buddhism had angered the Daoist Order. Chief Deputy Chen was suspected of ties to the Lingshan Witch Cult. Second Deputy Qi harbored conflicts with Chief Deputy Chen, intending to move against her. All these tangled threads were layered atop another, which left Chen Jianchou lost, unable to discern what the truth really was anymore.