(Side Story) The Lonely King 03

Finally, Fang Zhiyi stopped. He shot Fang Qian a glare that could strip flesh from bone. Fang Qian clutched his head, looking utterly dejected as he stared at the father who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Pack your things. You’re coming back to court with me!”

As stubborn as Fang Qian was with his own son—insisting on becoming a monk—when it came to his own father, he didn’t dare utter a single word of protest.

“Fine, fine!”

But when word got out that Fang Qian was leaving, the abbot of Cihang Temple couldn’t sit still. He led a group of red-faced monks straight over to confront them.

After all, it was the abbot who had talked Fang Qian into becoming a monk in the first place. And ever since they’d gotten this emperor in their midst, the temple might have lacked incense offerings, but the income never stopped. Every year, the capital sent no small amount of fine goods their way. Fang Qian was easy to deal with, too, so the monks had been living quite comfortably. No way could they let this man go.

“Amitabha. Huijue, what exactly are you doing?”

Fang Qian shot the abbot an apologetic glance, then nervously eyed Fang Zhiyi’s grim face.

“Um, Abbot, I know you won’t believe this, but… my father came for me…”

The abbot turned in surprise to look at Fang Zhiyi. Fang Zhiyi didn’t even spare him a glance. He just stood there, and a sovereign’s aura radiated from him. The old eunuch Fuhai stood respectfully behind him, and the abbot’s heart began to race with alarm.

Was the late emperor resurrected?

How… how was that possible?

“Uh… Huijue, perhaps it’s because of your devotion to Buddhism that heaven has allowed you to see your father one last time. If you were to now leave the monastic path, I’m afraid…”

Fuhai’s face darkened. What was this old monk implying?

Fang Zhiyi, however, paid it no mind. He knew these temple monks all too well. When the barbarians had swept in, masses of refugees had crowded at the foot of the mountain, begging for food. But the temple gates stayed shut, guarded by soldiers, refusing to even acknowledge the people. Their excuse? They were praying for the prosperity of Dayong and praying for the people. Ha.

To keep this useless emperor around, they’d resort to any trick imaginable—let alone spinning a few lies.

But what really ground Fang Zhiyi’s gears was that Fang Qian actually believed it.

Fang Qian wavered, looking at Fang Zhiyi as if to say: See? The abbot says if I give up my monastic vows, you’re done for!

What he got in response was Fang Zhiyi’s foot. One swift kick, and Fang Qian hopped up clutching his rear, immediately going back to packing his things.

Fuhai nodded approvingly. Yep, that was the late emperor, no mistaking it. He never wasted words when a kick would do.

“Amitabha. Sir, you—” The abbot turned to face Fang Zhiyi, suspicion written all over his face. He himself was a monk; of course he knew that the dead could not return to life. Now he was starting to doubt Fang Zhiyi’s identity.

“Fuhai,” Fang Zhiyi said.

Fuhai immediately answered: “At your service.”

“I’m taking this fool back to court. Send someone to take care of this place properly.” Fang Zhiyi turned to leave. “And clean it up thoroughly.”

Fuhai let out a faint, sinister smile. “Understood.”

The abbot’s words were cut short. He could only watch as Fang Zhiyi turned and walked away, ignoring everything he had to say. But a chill of unease settled in his chest. Take care of this place? What did that mean?

A monk tried to block Fang Zhiyi’s path, but the plain-looking carriage driver waiting at the gate suddenly struck out. Two monks stationed at the door hit the ground in an instant.

Fuhai might have retired, but for his own safety, nearly every servant in his household knew a thing or two about fighting. It was his habit.

All the abbot could do was watch helplessly as Fang Qian trotted nervously after Fang Zhiyi. He wanted to stop them, but the carriage driver at the gate had already drawn his blade.

Fuhai also made his way to the entrance, then turned to face the monks gathered in the temple courtyard.

The message was perfectly clear: if you want to chase after them, you’ll have to get through me first.

Down at the base of the mountain, the soldiers on guard duty were still trading gossip about the rumors surrounding Fuhai when they saw the carriage coming back down. What shocked them even more was who was driving it—the Emperor Emeritus himself?!

“Uh… hello there,” Fang Qian said awkwardly.

The soldiers gaped in alarm. “We pay our respects to the Emperor Emeritus!”

“Rise, all of you.” Fang Qian rubbed his bald head and instinctively glanced toward the inside of the carriage.

The person inside said a few words, and Fang Qian obediently repeated them.

“So, I’m heading back to the capital. You lot are coming with me. No need to guard this place anymore.”

The soldiers stared at him in disbelief, but they quickly complied. What orders could possibly be higher than the Emperor Emeritus’s?

Not long after their group departed, a squad of men dressed in black hurried up the mountain path and headed straight for the temple.

Fuhai, calm and unhurried, addressed the monks gathered before him: “As I said, the time is almost up. My offer still stands: anyone who wants to leave the monastic life, walk out through that door right now. Otherwise, things are about to get… difficult.”

The abbot gritted his teeth and glared at the old eunuch.

Today was nothing short of seeing ghosts!

Was that really the late emperor? The Emperor Emeritus surely wouldn’t mistake his own father? But he was a dead man—how could he—

Before he could figure it out, the squad of black-clad men arrived.

“I gave you a chance,” Fuhai said with a shake of his head.

The monks looked at the weapons in the intruders’ hands, and at once, one of them jumped out: “I quit! I’m leaving the monastic life!”

Where there was one, there were more.

Fuhai smiled. “Now that’s more like it. Praying to gods and Buddhas doesn’t hold a candle to relying on yourself.”

That day, a blaze erupted on Qingluan Mountain, and it burned long and bright.

The next day, people discovered that the soldiers who had been guarding the foot of the mountain were gone. Those bold enough to climb to the halfway point found only a burned-down temple.

News spread that the Grand Emperor was returning to the court, which caught Fang Tianyun, who was preparing for a personal campaign, completely off guard.

Had his father... finally come around?

But the words of Qian Zhong left him feeling uneasy. If his father returned, what would happen to him? Would he have to hand the throne back? He had barely gotten used to being emperor!

Qian Zhong also knew well that each reign brings its own ministers. The Grand Emperor had favored Fuhai, and Qian Zhong had only risen to his position after Fuhai was gone. There was no way he would let the Grand Emperor destroy everything now.

But assassinating the Grand Emperor... who would dare do such a thing? Even if he gave the order, wouldn't those beneath him balk at it?

There were even rumors that the very man escorting the Grand Emperor back to the capital was Fuhai!

As a former subordinate of Fuhai, Qian Zhong knew full well the cunning of that old fox. Yet, recalling that the Eastern Depot was now firmly under his control, Qian Zhong forced himself to stay calm.

Because of this, the campaign was postponed. Fang Tianyun decided to wait until his father returned to the palace and explained everything before making any moves.

Qian Zhong was also prepared. If Fuhai dared to come back, he would make sure Fuhai died right there in the capital.

Reports kept streaming in. The Grand Emperor's procession entered the capital, but bypassed Fang Tianyun, who had come to welcome him. Instead, he sent a messenger with an edict, telling Fang Tianyun to wait back at the court.

Had it been anyone else, Fang Tianyun would have flown into a rage. But this was his own father, so no matter how irritated he was, he could only swallow it.

The spies' reports never stopped.

The Grand Emperor went first to the residence of Wei Xun, the former commander of the imperial guard. Then he visited the former Grand Secretary of the Wuying Hall, followed by the Chief Sacrificial Official, the Left Censor-in-Chief, the Minister of Rites...