Chapter 109: Monkey King, Monkey King, You’re Truly Formidable!

Five days had passed.

“Quite lively!” Yang Xin remarked with a satisfied expression.

He stood there like the Monkey King on a deeply rutted dirt road, weighed down by the ironwood whistle cudgel he aspired to master like Zhao Da. Before him lay a sizable village.

The first month of the lunar year was not even over yet.

The weak, warmthless sunshine fell on the parched earth. Winter wheat, having somehow endured the harsh winter, looked like dying lichen on an icy plain, clinging desperately within patchy fields. The cold northwest wind whipped past, sending dust swirling into the air. There was no sign of irrigation ditches; these were not watered fields. The yield of this winter wheat was left completely to fate. Amidst this landscape of bleakness stood rows of ramshackle thatched huts, surrounded by low earthen walls, everything touched by decay.

Only a few brick-tiled houses stood out like grey pigeons in a flock of sparrows.

But the street itself was bustling.

Despite only having one main street, it was packed with people. Most were clad in rags and looked gaunt, yet they were excitedly gathered before the largest brick-tiled mansion. The faint sound of gongs and drums drifted from inside. Many people even knelt on the street, kowtowing reverently towards the mansion…

This place was called Xu Villa.

It was rumored to be the main altar of Xu Hongru’s faith.

This wasn’t secret knowledge. They were preaching openly. Everyone, from the officials in Yuncheng and Juye counties down to the poorest commoner, knew about it. From county yamen clerks to the beggars in the gutters, it was common knowledge.

To spread their teachings, they had to gather people. This wasn’t the modern age with communication tools; their era relied on shouting. The only way to preach to illiterate folk was public meetings. While the county magistrates might feign ignorance—most were only interested in squeezing money and wouldn’t trouble themselves with people’s concerns unless they were exceptional officials—local gentry and yamen officials were surely aware.

But they wouldn’t interfere.

Religious groups like this always amassed vast wealth. Preaching wasn’t free. The Wang Clan in Shifokou had used it to build immense fortunes, supposedly even great enough to befriend palace eunuchs. They claimed imperial descent and preached openly even in the Capital City.

Xu Hongru was no different.

He was a chief disciple of Wang Sen.

While raking in money, he also ingratiated himself with local gentry and corrupt officials. They welcomed the bribes and feared the hidden threats, like the snipers used against Yang Xin. So, they turned a blind eye, even providing protection. As long as these groups didn’t outright rebel, what was there to worry about? In an era where Imperial power stopped at the county level, as long as the local elites and clerks kept quiet, trouble was unlikely. Historically, every rebellion using religion started like this. Negligent officials and self-serving gentry nurtured them, until they suddenly struck. And when they did, those officials were often the first to fall.

True secret sects couldn’t exist.

They’d be impossible to spread. Hong Tianwang’s rise followed the same pattern.

A secret to the Emperor? Perhaps. To the gentry below? Never.

Finding the place was simple for Yang Xin.

He’d tossed a silver coin to a passerby and asked where the legendary Living Immortal was. The man told him the Living Immortal was opening his altar there that very day. Yang Xin just followed the crowd bustling like market-goers.

That simple.

Yang Xin, felt hat on his head, watched with approval.

A village woman walked past him. She looked at him rather boldly, swinging her hips beneath a thick waist. Yang Xin met her with a radiant smile…

“Hey there, young fella…” The woman’s words died in her throat.

Yang Xin flung his whistle cudgel into the air. In the same instant, he shed his fur-lined robe, revealing a Dragon! Um, a Flying Fish.

The startled woman, unfamiliar with an Imperial Guard’s Flying Fish Robe, let out a cry. Before the sound faded, his discarded robe landed squarely on her face. Clad now in the Flying Fish Robe, Yang Xin caught the cudgel as it fell and once more rested it across his shoulders. His eyes fixed on the street ahead, where heads were beginning to turn…

“Xu Hongru! Your crimes are exposed!” He roared.

Hundreds of eyes snapped towards him instantly.

Yang Xin ignored them.

“Xu Hongru! Your crimes are exposed! Wang Haoxian has been captured! He confessed your plot to rebel! Xu Hongru! Your rebellion is exposed! Wang Haoxian sold you out! The Wang Clan at Shifokou sold you out! They said you were the mastermind! That you lured fools with your Incense-Smelling Sect, gathering them to plot treason!” He bellowed loudly.

A stunned silence fell. Everyone stared at him in shock.

“Some lunatic! Get him!” a voice suddenly commanded.

“Damn! Hoping to rebel without even recognizing a Flying Fish Robe?” Yang Xin muttered, exasperated.

But the villagers genuinely didn’t recognize the Imperial Guard uniform. The man giving orders was clearly a leader. At his command, nearby sturdy young men charged forward. The locals were famed for their ferocity. Two even snatched hoes propped against a wall. Raising them overhead, they were on him in an instant. Yang Xin cracked his neck. Just as the hoes swung down, he leapt. He sailed cleanly between the descending weapons as he shot past the attackers. The whistle cudgel resting against his shoulders slammed into them as he passed, knocking them violently off their feet.

He roared again,

switching his grip to hold the cudgel in both hands. He swept it sideways.

A chorus of screams erupted before him.

“I’ll teach you!!” Yang Xin shrieked in excitement.

His ironwood whistle cudgel became a blur of motion, whistling through the air, smashing skulls, spraying blood and flesh. Surging forward, scattering the initially frantic wave of sect members, he advanced like a sharp blade through bamboo. Panicked yells filled the air as people dived desperately away from the lethal arc of his weapon. Yang Xin reached the leader in moments. The man whipped out a long spear, jabbing straight for Yang Xin’s chest. A dozen tough-looking sect fighters flanking him closed in. At the same time, more armed members surged from the mansion’s gate just yards away. Even men on the courtyard wall raised their crossbows.

Yang Xin never paused. He sprang straight up.

The long spear passed harmlessly beneath his feet. Still airborne, he kicked downward, his boot connecting solidly with the leader’s head. The man crumpled even as Yang Xin’s descending cudgel smashed down onto an attendant’s shoulder. A pained scream ripped from the man as his shoulder collapsed unnaturally, sending him sprawling sideways. Landing on his feet, Yang Xin swept the cudgel sideways again, dropping two fighters clutching shattered legs. Without looking, he flicked the cudgel backward. The weighted head slammed into the forehead of a man trying to sneak up behind him. The attacker collapsed. The recoil spun the cudgel across Yang Xin’s shoulder. It slammed into another fighter’s temple, rebounded, and was caught one-handed by Yang Xin, who brought it crashing down again.

This blow connected with a shield.

The wooden barrier splintered instantly. The unstoppable cudgel smashed through onto the skull beneath.

Brains burst outwards.

Just then three arrows whistled towards him. One struck his chest squarely… and pinged harmlessly off the bulletproof plate hidden beneath his robe.

“HALT!” A voice boomed suddenly.

The attackers froze instantly, forming a wary ring around Yang Xin.

“Who are you, Sir?” demanded the highest-ranking man present, a middle-aged man with a deeply lined face and furrowed brows. “Why come here to kill?”

A squad of over fifty heavily armed sect members stood guard before him.

Yang Xin ignored them, nonchalantly shifting the blood-smeared whistle cudgel back onto his shoulders. He surveyed the groaning, bleeding Incense-Smelling Sect members scattered across the ground and nodded with bleak satisfaction.

“What, are you blind?” he retorted rudely.

“Don’t pretend you don’t recognize my Flying Fish Robe! Don’t pretend you don’t know the Ivory Pass at my waist!” he snarled. “I made myself clear! Your crimes are exposed! Xu Hongru duped people with his Incense-Smelling Sect, gathering crowds to plot rebellion! Incense-Smelling Sect members assassinated an Imperial Envoy in Qufu! I am here under orders to arrest you all!” He paused, then shrugged dismissively. “Arrests are messy. Finishing you off now is much cleaner. Where is Xu Hongru? Call him out! He claims to be the Living Immortal? Let’s see if his head is harder than this whistle cudgel!”

“We are all law-abiding subjects!” the man protested hotly. “We merely study Zen and worship Buddha here! Even the County Magistrate himself would find nothing objectionable! Do not accuse us falsely!”

“Accuse you falsely?” Yang Xin sneered.

He raised his official pass.

“I am a Jinyiwei Assistant Commander!” His voice was icy. “Your County Magistrate is dung! When I say you plot treason, you are plotting treason! Be smart! Tie yourselves up, and I’ll spare your miserable lives for now. You’ll face Wang Haoxian in an Imperial Guard prison cell! ‘Law-abiding’? Once you enter those cells, ‘innocence’ ceases to exist! Wang Haoxian and his brother Wang Haoyi await your testimony! Where is Xu Hongru? Drag him out here! Unless he prefers I come find him and shatter his skull myself!”

Wang Haoxian was Wang Sen’s son and the current leader of the Incense-Smelling Sect in the north. Xu Hongru had conspired with him for simultaneous rebellions – Xu in Yuncheng, Wang in Eastern Hebei. Although Wang Haoxian didn’t actually rebel then, the rebels later honored him as the Third Crown Prince. He later tried to flee with the sect’s wealth. His second older brother, Wang Haoyi, confronted him, trying to stop him and claim the riches. Wang Haoxian shot him dead. Crucially, Wang Haoyi’s branch of the family was spared after the rebellion. The Wang Clan continued spreading their teachings from Shifokou, even reaching outside the Great Wall. During the siege of Jinzhou, Incense Sect members within the city walls schemed to aid the Jiannu attackers from within. Discovery led to their execution. This deep-seated connection ensured that when the Jiannu forces crossed the Great Wall later, Wang Ke led numerous sect members to join the Manchu army and marched south with them.

So, Xu Hongru had to believe it.

He had to believe Yang Xin now. The Wang brothers at Shifokou captured? Confessed the rebellion plot? The Jinyiwei were coming? And this man before him was the Imperial Guard come to take them in?

Why only one man?

Simple. Overconfident in his martial skills. Hoping to capture the whole nest and claim all the glory himself!

The lead sect man stared at Yang Xin, his face pale with rage, knuckles white around his weapon.

Yang Xin stared back, expressionless.

“Kill him!” the sect leader rasped, the word forced out between gritted teeth.