The visitor didn't answer, but with a flick of his wrist, he unfurled a fan and with a few swift strokes, the Broken Bridge appeared on the paper, accompanied by a poem:
The best course of action is to never meet, so that we may never fall in love.
The second best thing is not to know each other, so that we won't miss each other.
Thirdly, it's best not to be together, so that there's no debt between us.
Fourthly, it's best not to cherish each other, so that we won't remember each other.
Fifthly, it's best not to fall in love, so that you won't abandon each other.
The sixth best thing is not to face each other, so that we will not meet.
The seventh point is that we should not make mistakes, so that we will not let each other down.
The eighth best approach is not to make any promises, so that the relationship can be broken.
The ninth best thing is not to rely on each other, so that we don't have to cling to each other.
The tenth best thing is not to meet, so that we can avoid being together.
The calligraphy was elegant, unrestrained, and free-flowing. A fine poem, a fine painting, a fine talent. It was indeed written by Ruwu herself.
Mo Xi said softly, "I thought you were a highly accomplished monk who could see through my disguise as a soul from another world with just one glance, but it turns out that I was the one who revealed my weakness."
Ruwu sighed, “The first time you came dressed as a man, you signed the book of merit. The characters ‘Muxi’ were indeed the same in both simplified and traditional Chinese, but the ‘liang’ in ‘silver’ was slightly different. I tricked you out of your true identity with just one sentence. Since I came here, I have had no means of livelihood. I have no clothes to cover my body and no food to fill my stomach. The only way I can temporarily get by is to become a monk. I know the hardships and difficulties you have endured. I only felt sorry for you for a moment, but it turned out to be like raising a tiger that has become a threat.”
Mo Xi then said, "I thought we were kindred spirits, sharing drinks under the moon, but it turns out it was just a ploy to lure the tiger away from the mountain." He secretly thought to himself that it was fortunate he hadn't emphasized that he wasn't a modern time traveler, but the reincarnation of the Sixth Dalai Lama, Tsangyang Gyatso, or anything like that.
“‘Su Jin, a long-time vegetarian, would often escape to meditation while drunk.’ I am merely using wine to temporarily escape the rules and regulations,” Ru Wu said calmly.
Mo Xi sneered: "You know my identity, and you were afraid that using a sleeping potion would not only fail but also expose you. So you pretended to be stingy when offering me the wine, luring me in. That night, you waited with two cups, which meant you already expected me to come. What a show of 'Bring in the Wine,' inviting me with wooden cups, reciting poetry by Li Bai, and punishing me with jade cups—all just to get me drunk. I never suspected you. I'm always alert; even when drunk, I wouldn't miss the temple bell. The bell rings every half hour, so I couldn't have been drunk for more than half an hour. And you don't know martial arts; you couldn't possibly make a round trip from the meditation room to Songwu Courtyard in half an hour, not to mention your fastidious nature. Such a hurried pace would surely soil your white robe, requiring you to wash and change to avoid arousing my suspicion. But it was that superfluous incense that gave me away, making me suspicious of you." The incense coils you used were scented with osmanthus, while the incense you used to prove the time of Eighth Miss's death was the temple's standard incense. You knew Eighth Miss's habit of relighting incense every time she saw you. You were afraid I would eventually discover the secret of the passage and suspect you, so you deliberately created a false impression by replacing the original incense with freshly lit one. Thus, judging from the length of the incense, I would naturally assume Eighth Miss died at the time we started drinking. As for why you didn't notice the incense Eighth Miss used was different from the temple's, it's because the air was filled with the fragrance of osmanthus, and this fragrance overpowered the other. Eighth Miss was hanged silently because she was also drunk. She was a frail woman; one cup of that kind of wine would have been enough to render her unconscious. She was always weak, and the autumn night was chilly. The windows were open at the time, but you only opened them afterward to prevent the wine's aroma from lingering.”
Ling Qi thought that the Eighth Miss had taken a liking to Young Master Du, but that the Eighth Miss had been feeling insecure ever since they met on the Winter Solstice. Little did she know that the Eighth Miss was none other than Ru Wu, whom she had met at Lingyin Temple on the Laba Festival. The difference between the two was only about ten days.
In fact, even without this poem, Mo Xi wouldn't have known that Ru Wu wore the same clothes as her, and she had long suspected that the Eighth Miss was inextricably linked to Ru Wu. When the Eighth Miss volunteered to enter the temple to worship Buddha, Ling Qi thought it was to draw the sword of wisdom, but little did she know the opposite; the Eighth Miss was there precisely to meet her lover. It's no wonder she personally prepared her clothes; the night she tragically died, she even specially changed into that sky-blue dress that Mo Xi had so admired. When the Eighth Miss proposed to see Ru Wu, she used the word "informed" instead of "introduced," indicating that they knew each other. Later, the Eighth Miss insisted on attending evening classes, saying that she was "deeply sinful." Falling in love with someone outside the celestial realm and having an affair was naturally a deep sin for a lady of such a noble family as her. The reason she cherished that fan so much was not only because of the poem, but also because the Broken Bridge painted by Ru Wu was the place where Xu Xian and Bai Niangzi met. Love between a human and a demon is just as shocking and unacceptable to the world as love between a monk and a layman. The more taboo something is, the more a sheltered woman like her will wallow in self-pity. She loves the one who inscribes and paints on the fan, not the young master Du who gives it to her.
As for the two exchanging messages, they did so through the merit book. Mo Xi donated one hundred taels, not caring about the cost, and thoroughly checked it. Donations of one hundred taels were rare, and Ling Shi was easy to find. Each time, a man surnamed Chen would sign in on the same day. His name was interesting; sometimes it was "Mo," sometimes "Shen," and sometimes "You," all written in the same handwriting. The Eighth Miss's signature was to notify Ru Wu of her arrival, while Ru Wu's signature indicated the time of their planned rendezvous. Previously, the Eighth Miss never stayed overnight because Ru Wu always saw her whenever she came. Her anxiety likely stemmed from Ru Wu's growing indifference towards her, leading him to abandon any further pursuit. Having been rebuffed several times before, this time she decided to stay longer to gradually make her move. On her first day at the temple, the Eighth Miss avoided Mo Xi and went to the Huayan Hall to sign in, but Ru Wu still ignored her. She had no choice but to ask Mo Xi to make arrangements for her.
Mo Xi's throat was dry from speaking. He paused, then continued, "You killed the Eighth Miss simply because she was obsessed with you. Her fan, which she carried day and night, had your calligraphy on it. If it fell into the abbot's hands, you would not only be unable to take over as abbot but might also be expelled from the temple. Every evening, Zhiqing personally presided over the food offering ceremony. If the Eighth Miss wanted to say something under that pretext, you would have no chance to stop her. It's pitiful that she was still dreaming of spending three lifetimes together. That day, when I woke up, you smelled strongly of alcohol, your monk's robe was loose, but you were clear-headed. I'm afraid she begged you to smear osmanthus wine on your chest, and you had no choice but to agree in order to trick her into drinking. You gave me the hangover tea so that I would stay sober after I returned, and to pinpoint the time of the Eighth Miss's death to the time when the two of us were drinking."
"'It's lamentable how things in this world are like bubbles and lanterns in the wind; who would willingly become a flying immortal?' Life is short, and the world is impermanent. People are truly laughable, single-mindedly pursuing entry into the Western Paradise, yet they don't know that entering the Buddhist gate is like falling into the deepest hell. Worldly joy is what I seek in this life. But alas, the world does not accept me. Even you, who live by killing, are only seeking to survive."
"'What evidence do you have? Who finds it easy and who finds it difficult?' Everyone in this world faces hardship, not just you and me. I just never imagined that you invited me here to become the Taoist priest who sold the Dunhuang Mogao Caves for two thousand taels of silver. The Diamond Sutra you gave me was copied while practicing imitating Dong Qichang's handwriting. Zhiqing spends his days inventorying the treasures of the Mogao Caves; one day he'll discover they're fakes. If he leaves, you'll become the abbot. First, no one will discover the secret of the Mogao Caves, and second, you can do whatever you want." Mo Xi paused, then said, "The scriptures might be forged, but you alone could never forge the artifacts. You smuggled the nation's treasures to the Japanese; aren't you afraid that those behind you will discard you once you've served your purpose?"
Mo Xi found reading the Diamond Sutra beneficial to her martial arts practice, so she often kept it close at hand. Finally, a flash of inspiration struck her: why did the copy of the Diamond Sutra by Dong Qichang look so familiar when she was viewing the Buddhist scriptures? It wasn't because she had seen it in modern times, but because the copy Ru Wu had given her and the one in the scriptures were either genuine and a copy, or both were fakes—in any case, the handwriting was similar. Later, she bought a rubbing and compared them herself, and indeed, it was so. The jade goblet was likely also one of the fakes. It was sold to foreigners because these items would be too conspicuous if they were in private hands.
"Now that you know, why not take action?" Ru Wu remained unmoved, her expression unchanged.
Mo Xi suddenly stood up and struck with lightning speed, but before he could even touch a hair on Ru Wu's head, his momentum suddenly slowed down, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto Ru Wu's white robe, turning blackish-purple!
"You actually poisoned me!" Mo Xi glared venomously at Ru Wu. This poison was incredibly potent; it took effect in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, and its trigger was the surge of blood and qi during internal energy cultivation. Zhi Qing was likely poisoned in the Scripture Pavilion before being ambushed and killed by the Japanese ninja. Otherwise, with his skill, that man wouldn't have lasted more than thirty moves against him. Even with Tang Ren's interference, he wouldn't have died on the spot.
Ru Wu smiled serenely and said, "You've been talking to me so much just to take advantage of my lack of martial arts skills, thinking I don't need to worry about a counterattack. You want to find out who the big boss is? Fine, today I'll let you die knowing the truth. It's none other than the Seventh Prince of the current dynasty."
Smuggling national treasures was naturally a way to raise money, and this struggle for control of the Central Plains was the most costly activity. As expected, Ru Wu was able to obtain this purple-gold robe because of a recommendation from someone in the court. The fact that Chu Huaiqing's name appeared several times in that merit book was no coincidence.
Mo Xi asked weakly, "How did you discover the secret passage? Even Zhiqing didn't know there was a secret passage in the Scripture Pavilion, otherwise how could the Japanese have successfully launched a sneak attack?"
Mo Xi returned to secretly follow Ru Wu in order to confirm his suspicions about the temple's secret passage and find the fan, the key piece of evidence. Sure enough, he went through a secret passage from the meditation room to the Sutra Repository, and then to the adjacent Pine Mist Courtyard. Ru Wu was also able to successfully exchange the fake treasures in the Sutra Repository for the real ones through this same secret passage.
Ruwu nodded: "Lingyin Temple was built with royal funding two hundred years ago. The structural drawings were in the library in the palace, and were accidentally obtained by the seventh prince."
"That night we drank, you deliberately revealed to me that Zhiqing habitually hid the scriptures alone at that time, just to lure me into a trap. Tang Ren was someone you deliberately brought along; he knew about the assassination attempt beforehand, which is why he teamed up with Zhiqing to ambush me. With Zhiqing's martial arts skills, there might not be any assassin in the world who could succeed. You must have been betting on one incense stick; as long as he was poisoned, he would surely die from the poison during the fight. But you didn't expect that I didn't show up at all. Helpless, you had no choice but to let the Japanese take action. You contacted the organization because you didn't want the ninjas to do it; their martial arts style has too obvious foreign characteristics, which would easily expose the smuggling. As for Tang Ren, he's a notorious bastard; once he bites you, he won't let go even if you cut off your head. And I became the scapegoat for the wanted criminal who stole the temple's treasures."
Zhiqing's death from the hexagonal snowflake dart reminded Mo Xi of the elusive spy she encountered in Yunqi Bamboo Path. The weapon and the movement made it easy to guess that he was a Japanese ninja.
Before Mo Xi came to Hangzhou, Ru Wu, though she had approached the organization to hire Zhi Qing to kill him, was unaware of the assassin's identity. However, since their acquaintance, Mo Xi had asked Ru Wu to chant sutras to pray for the souls of those killed by her sword. It wasn't surprising that Ru Wu was aware of her business dealings, and given that Mo Xi had always believed her to be a highly respected monk, she trusted her more. Her arrival in Hangzhou at this time was also highly likely related to Zhi Qing. Mo Xi's previous hesitation to act stemmed from the fact that Zhi Qing was beyond her ability to defeat directly, requiring careful planning. Ru Wu hoped Tang Ren would deal with Mo Xi for another reason: she feared Tang Ren would investigate the Eighth Miss's death. Tang Ren might be far less skilled than Mo Xi, but his identity was something Mo Xi desperately wanted to avoid. If Tang Ren targeted her, Mo Xi would be preoccupied with her own survival, let alone causing trouble for Ru Wu. However, Ru Wu dared not directly reveal Mo Xi's identity to Tang Ren; angering him would also bring her trouble. It was because Tang Ren received an anonymous tip from Ru Wu that someone was planning to assassinate Zhi Qing that he came to Hangzhou to wait and ambush them. Tang Ren was so cautious about the seemingly innocuous murder of the Eighth Miss because he was exceptionally sensitive to any slight movement after receiving the tip. However, Ru Wu was unaware that Mo Xi had a habit of never taking action when there were constables present, so this tactic of luring someone into a trap failed. Mo Xi waited until Tang Ren returned to the capital before leaving Hangzhou, partly to monitor whether Ru Wu would reveal her identity to him, and partly because if she fled in a panic, Tang Ren would inevitably think that she was guilty because of the Eighth Miss's death.
"You still have the energy to talk so much? You're not poisoned?!" Ruwu finally realized something was wrong.
Mo Xi wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve, his expression brightening as he smiled faintly, "This Tang Clan's 'One Stick of Incense' isn't as miraculous as the legends say. How dare they charge such an exorbitant price of ten thousand taels of silver per qian? I never imagined Zhiqing would fall into the hands of such scoundrels." Torture isn't always the best interrogation method; feigning weakness is. Once the other party believes they are in an invincible position, they are likely to reveal everything.
Only then did Ruwu's expression change drastically, but in an instant she calmly and self-deprecatingly said, "I underestimated you."
"You should return to secular life," Mo Xi said softly.
"You're willing to let me go? I've wronged you twice, how can you forgive me?" Ruwu asked, filled with doubt and surprise.
“In this world, only you and I came from that other side. If even you are gone, I will truly become a lonely soul in another world.” Mo Xi’s voice was tinged with sadness.
After a pause, Mo Xi continued, "After you returned to secular life, the world will no longer have the 'Wonderful Monk Ruwu,' so naturally I have no need to kill you." Her voice was calm and gentle.
Ru Wu finally breathed a sigh of relief and smiled slightly. Just as he was about to speak, Mo Xi struck with lightning speed, seizing his pulse point and shattering his heart meridian with his unique technique. This move was truly faster than lightning. Before the smile on Ru Wu's face could fade, he had already breathed his last.
Mo Xi smiled and patted her chest. She had to keep this incense, a poison worth a fortune. She couldn't withstand even a stick of incense, so she went to the scripture pavilion through the secret passage beforehand and replaced the incense. This poison was prepared by Ru Wu long ago, just in case Mo Xi returned, but in the end, she was still outmaneuvered. Mo Xi made Ru Wu believe she was immune to poison out of caution; who knew if he still had any on him?
That evening, Ling Qi received a note that read: "Your beloved sister has followed you to the Yellow Springs. May you rest in peace."
The following day, Zen Master Ruwu was found dead in the Sutra Repository.
He sat in meditation on a lotus flower, his face as white as jade. All the world sighed in admiration.
(Mo Xi: That's the effect we wanted. If we made him look like a monster with a green face and fangs, even though we're not afraid of the likes of the sugar figurine seller, he'd still be a piece of chewing gum we couldn't get rid of.)
The seventh young lady of the Ling family, deeply moved by Zen Master Ruwu's lifelong cultivation and ultimate attainment, donated a thousand taels of silver to bury him on the Ling family's private land—at the northern foot of Gushan Hill in West Lake, Hangzhou. Mo Xi, grateful for her sentiment, visited the eighth young lady's grave at Jilong Mountain on the southwest side of West Lake before departing. He also burned the Diamond Sutra, personally copied by Zen Master Ruwu, for her, hoping she would understand only one sentence from the sutra:
“I will lead them all to Nirvana without remainder and thus liberate them. In this way, countless, innumerable and boundless beings will be liberated, but in reality, no being will be liberated.”