Chapter Fourteen: Two Fat Men

In the early morning, Aunt Qing had gone outside the village to pick mulberry leaves, while White Bun headed up the mountain to chop firewood and check the traps he had set earlier for any gains. Li Zhao was left alone in the small ancestral shrine. He first wielded a slender wooden stick, driving the little chicks around the courtyard to exercise them, honing their endurance—an essential quality for any outstanding fighting cock.

After training, he picked up a copy of "Commentary on Tang Law," settled beneath a large tree, and read with relish. This compilation, spanning thirty volumes, detailed the laws and annotations of the Tang Dynasty. To survive in this world, mere mastery of both civil and martial arts was insufficient; one must understand the law, for sometimes, knowing the law is the first step to breaking it.

Suddenly, a harsh, grating cry echoed through the shrine. Two jet-black, big-beaked crows landed on the dragon-scale cypress in the center, cawed a few times, then spread their wings and flew toward the front yard. As the saying goes, "When crows call, trouble follows"—and indeed, it was no empty superstition.

Before long, two uninvited guests arrived, both portly in stature: Li Chong and Li Fei, brothers who came carrying a basket of ripe grapes, each plump and bursting with juice. During the Western Han, Zhang Qian had brought grape seeds back from the Western Regions, and after more than eight centuries of cultivation, grapes were commonly grown. Both officials and commoners enjoyed their fruit, and wine was a favorite among poets and scholars.

"Yu Lang, we've come to see you," they said.

"Honored brothers, I regret not welcoming you from afar—please forgive me for my lack of courtesy."

"Heh, we're family, no need for formalities."

Li De was the adopted son of Li Zhao's grandfather, so Li Zhao and the two fat brothers addressed each other as siblings and exchanged respectful bows. Of course, whether calling each other brother or sister, the warmth was feigned; deep down, each would gladly wring the other's neck.

"What brings you here, brothers?"

"The grapes in the back garden are ripe. We've brought a basket for you to try, and invite you to join us in offering incense at Caotang Temple."

"Oh, offering incense?"

Though the Tang Dynasty honored Daoism as the state religion, Buddhism was equally revered. From high officials to humble peasants, people frequently visited temples to pray for the gods’ blessing and an escape from the cycle of rebirth.

Today was the first day of the month, a most auspicious day for worship. Caotang Temple was the largest monastery for dozens of miles, just over twenty miles from Qianlong Ridge. Thus, the brothers’ invitation seemed reasonable—but their insincere, forced smiles hinted at ulterior motives.

Could it be that Li De and Lady Zheng had sent them, using the pretense of worship to lure him out and harm him in secret? The birthday banquet incident was still fresh; under so many watchful eyes, Li De and Lady Zheng likely wouldn’t dare act rashly.

Li Zhao decided to probe their intentions.

"Are Uncle and Aunt coming too?"

"Father and Mother are at the distillery; they'll be busy till late and have no time for anything else. Only we three brothers will go."

"No one else?"

"No one else!"

Li Zhao nodded, sensing no lies in their answers—at least, not in those words.

The Li family owned a large distillery, among the finest in Wuan County, producing copious amounts of wine each year and earning thousands in revenue. Unfortunately, both the distillery and the ancestral home were seized by Li De and Lady Zheng. Recently, they’d been at the distillery day and night, seemingly busy with a big transaction, unable to attend to anything else.

So, the two fat brothers hadn't been sent by anyone else; they’d acted on their own, hoping to lure him out while Aunt Qing and White Bun were away, and teach him a harsh lesson as revenge for their parents. In that case, why not turn their scheme against them and settle the score for his earlier humiliation?

"Please wait a moment, brothers. I'll change clothes and we can go worship together." With his plan set, Li Zhao returned to his room, donned fresh clothes, and secretly tucked a sharp paper-cutting knife into his boot for safety.

Once ready, the three left the shrine. A carriage awaited at the gate, driven by a household servant.

"Please, brothers, board the carriage!"

"Very well!"

Li Zhao courteously helped the two brothers aboard, seating them inside while he and the servant rode outside—a move with clear intent.

"Gee up!"

"Uncle Wang, off to sell mountain goods again? I'm going to Caotang Temple with my brothers."

"Good morning, Aunt Zhang, we're off to Caotang Temple."

"Morning, Brother Liu..."

On the way, Li Zhao greeted every villager, young or old, male or female, missing none. It was not just politeness, but strategic self-protection. He suspected the brothers were only planning to rough him up, not commit anything truly outrageous—but one can never be too careful. If his guess was wrong, what then?

By deliberately making his whereabouts known, he ensured everyone knew of their trip. It was like adding a protective charm; if anything happened, Li Chong and Li Fei would be implicated, which would deter them from acting recklessly.

In cunning, Li Zhao was second to none.

Gui Feng Mountain, a branch of the Zhongnan range, rose more than fifteen hundred meters, steep and scenic, its silhouette resembling the character "Gui," thus named. At its foot stood Caotang Temple, spanning several hundred acres, founded in the Southern and Northern Dynasties, famed as a Buddhist temple and the ancestral seat of the Three Treatises School, thriving with incense.

"Move faster up ahead! The mountain path is blocked!"

"Can't move, it's crowded up front!"

"Ouch, damn it, who stepped on my foot?"

"Silence! This is a sacred place—no noise!"

Being the first of the month, it was a day for worship, and crowds thronged the gates of Caotang Temple: resplendent officials, humble commoners, all pressed together, with jostling and trampling all too common.

Luckily, Li Chong and Li Fei, stout as pigs, bulldozed a path through the crowd, and Li Zhao followed closely, entering the temple with ease.

This was Li Zhao’s first visit to a monastery since his arrival in this era—a genuine ancient temple. Excited, he focused intently on his surroundings.

Caotang Temple’s architecture adhered strictly to Buddhist standards: the gates faced south, main buildings lined up along the central axis—Heavenly King Hall, Bell Tower, Drum Tower, Stele Gallery, Grand Hall, Hall of Great Compassion, Ksitigarbha Hall... Each structure was exquisite, showcasing remarkable skill, far superior to the faux ancient buildings of later ages.

"Boom!—Boom! Boom!"

"Thunder... It's going to rain!"

As the saying goes, "Man faces unexpected fortune and misfortune, Heaven changes without warning"—how true those words proved. Just as he enjoyed his tour, fierce winds rose suddenly; clouds gathered, lightning flashed, and rain the size of soybeans poured down, battering trees and rooftops.

Worshippers scattered, seeking shelter in the nearest building.

Li Zhao and the two brothers were no exception, darting into the Grand Hall—a core structure of the temple, housing three massive Buddha statues: in the center, Shakyamuni Buddha; to the left, Medicine Master Buddha, seated cross-legged, left hand holding a bowl symbolizing nectar, right hand a medicine pellet; to the right, Amitabha Buddha, cross-legged, hands folded over his feet, a lotus platform in his palm signifying salvation of all beings.

All three statues were cast in brass, likely weighing over ten thousand pounds, covered in gold leaf, gleaming and dignified, inspiring awe.

Before their bases stood a large divination box containing three hundred and sixty-five fortune sticks, symbolizing the days of the year.

Caotang Temple’s fortune sticks were famed for predicting luck, destiny, romance, and wealth—so accurate that worshippers flocked to them.

In such a treasure house, one could not leave empty-handed.

Li Chong and Li Fei knelt before Shakyamuni Buddha, kowtowing like pigs rooting in earth, then closed their eyes in prayer. Faintly, Li Zhao heard wishes for promotion, wealth, and a harem of wives.

After praying, each shook out a fortune stick and clutched it tightly.

"Disciple Li Zhao seeks guidance on his future; may the Buddha light the way."

Li Zhao prayed silently, then shook the box. Yet after a dozen tries, not a single stick emerged. He shook harder, but still nothing—what was happening? Was the Buddha unwilling to guide him?

Outside, the wind and rain raged, thunder rolled, and the world seemed to change.

One bolt! Two bolts! Three bolts!...

With the ninth crash of thunder, something fell from Shakyamuni’s palm, landing directly in Li Zhao’s hand.

He looked down—it was a fortune stick, heavy in his grasp.