Chapter 48: Have you not seen Han Zhongjun, who at the tender age of twenty, bound the enemy and requested a long cord?

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Chapter 48: Have You Not Heard of Han Zhongjun, Who, Before Twenty, Bound the Barbarians and Pleaded for the Crimson Cord? (An Extra Chapter for Daoist Master Moyan)

Time flowed on, and in the blink of an eye, it was June, 1937.

Luo Feng stepped out of the Sutra Repository and lifted his gaze to the brilliant sunlight.

This time, he had secluded himself for a full six months.

It was the longest retreat he’d taken in over a decade.

At the entrance, the Supreme Purity Sect’s headmaster, Elder Jing Tian, and many elders were already waiting.

Luo Feng glanced around—there was no one else.

“What about the other sects?”

He narrowed his eyes and asked.

Before his retreat, he’d instructed the Supreme Purity Sect’s headmaster to notify all the major extraordinary sects, inviting them to join him in the Northeast to hunt down the Japanese supernaturals and avenge the Heavenly Strategy Sect.

The headmaster shook his head and sighed. “None of the major sects are willing to send people. They fear that by killing the Three Palace Priests, they’ll thoroughly offend the Japanese, potentially provoking a national war. By then, they would be the culprits.”

“Offend? National war?”

Luo Feng repeated the words, his voice growing louder and louder, until at last, he burst into laughter that was half anger, half mockery, echoing to the heavens.

The enemy had already invaded their doorstep, occupied the entire Northeast, and yet these people were still worrying about whether they should offend them?

Had their minds all gone soft?

“What of the Supreme Purity Sect? What is your decision?”

Luo Feng fixed his gaze on the headmaster.

The headmaster fell silent, then bowed deeply. The elders followed suit.

Luo Feng nodded. He understood.

It was still early—there was a month left before the full invasion. The Japanese had not yet completely advanced.

They hadn’t been awakened by pain, nor roused by defeat.

Everyone was still clinging to wishful thinking.

“If the righteous path will not move, what about Zheng Zha and the others?”

Luo Feng shouted.

A young man hurried over, cupped his fist, and said, “Uncle Zheng feared you’d stop him. He took Luo Yuan and Bi Qing and went down the mountain ahead of you.”

Luo Feng looked deeply at Li Yan. “What is your choice? You are the sole heir. The whole sect has fought and died for the people. It’s only right if you do not go.”

“Li Yan, new head of the Heavenly Strategy Sect, is willing to follow you, elder!”

Li Yan shouted, a righteous aura rising from within him.

“There are still good men in China,” Luo Feng said with a gentle laugh, then swept his gaze over the Supreme Purity Sect crowd.

He began to sing:

“Have you not heard of Han Zhongjun, who, before twenty, bound the barbarians and pleaded for the crimson cord?

Have you not heard of Ban Dingyuan, whose light cavalry pressed the battle clouds to the farthest frontiers?

A true man should brave danger and hardship—why let a scholar’s cap ruin his life?

When the nation’s dignity is as fragile as eggs in a basket, urgent dispatches fly without rest.

Cast aside my old pen, don my battle armor.

At my call, a hundred thousand comrades respond, and we loudly sing the song of war as we join the army.”

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“Join the army, sweep away the barbarian dust, swear to vanquish the enemy regardless of life or limb.”

...

With every step, every verse, Luo Feng walked out through the mountain gate.

A deep silence fell behind him.

Suddenly, Elder Jing Tian broke free from the headmaster’s restraining hand, shook his head, and declared, “I’m over a hundred years old. My death is of no consequence—no consequence at all!”

He strode away with laughter, his voice resounding: “Laughing skyward as I leave my door, how could I be a man of the weeds!”

I am still a young man at heart!

His figure faded into the distance.

The Supreme Purity Sect’s headmaster knelt and called out, “Farewell, Martial Uncle!”

The elders followed, bowing and crying, “Farewell, Martial Uncle!”

Our Supreme Purity Sect, too, has men of valor!

As they walked down the mountain path, Luo Feng paused in surprise.

For at the boundary marked by the Supreme Purity Sect’s stone tablet stood a crowd.

There were monks, priests, laypeople, women, elders, children...

Among them, Luo Feng recognized only one: Daoist Master Moyan, a high priest of the Celestial Master’s Mansion on Dragon-Tiger Mountain, the one who had taught him the Golden Light Mantra.

He stood at the front, respected by all present.

When Daoist Master Moyan saw Luo Feng, he was visibly moved and stepped forward to bow. “Moyan of Dragon-Tiger Mountain greets the immortal Luo Feng!”

“We have all come down the mountain of our own accord, acting alone, with no connection to our sects. Hence our numbers are few. We hope the immortal will not despise us.”

“We hope the immortal will not hold it against us,” the crowd behind echoed, bowing deeply.

Luo Feng accepted their bows with composure, then returned the salute, solemn and respectful.

Some tried to step aside, but found themselves held fast by an invisible force.

“I take back what I said before—the righteous path is not without people,” Luo Feng said sincerely.

A kindly old monk intoned a Buddhist phrase: “You, sir, are the pillar of the age.”

Luo Feng smiled and asked, “Master, are you from Shaolin?”

Among these extraordinary folk, the old monk and Daoist Master Moyan were clearly the leaders.

“Hey, Immortal Luo, I’m the one from Shaolin,” piped up a cherubic young monk.

Luo Feng turned to see the little monk riding on the back of a burly, dark-skinned middle-aged monk, with a delicate-looking monk standing at the side.

He patted the little monk’s head and said softly, “Little one, you shouldn’t have come.”

But the little monk pressed his palms together and solemnly replied, “If I do not go to hell, who will? A monk should be here.”

The middle-aged and young monks also pressed their palms together. “Little Uncle is right. Thus it is, thus it is.”

Luo Feng nodded and said no more.

The cultivation of these three monks surpassed any so-called great monks he had seen on Earth.

He then turned to the old monk and bowed. “A moment ago I mistook your identity, Master—may I ask where you practice?”

The old monk nodded and smiled. “A wandering monk cares little for such things. I come from a humble temple, practicing wild fox Zen, alone.”

Luo Feng was startled. “Do you have any disciples?”

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The old monk shook his head.

Luo Feng shook his own head. “Master, you should find a disciple before you go. Otherwise, I fear your profound Dharma will be lost forever.”

The old monk raised a finger and pointed west. “If the temple is gone, the monks remain; if the monks are gone, the scriptures remain; if the scriptures are gone, the Buddha remains; if the Buddha is gone, the Dharma remains; if the Dharma is gone, Buddha remains.”

“It is never lost.”

Luo Feng formed a Buddhist seal. “Compassion, compassion.”

Then he turned to the crowd and clasped his hands. “Who among you is the last of your line, with no disciples? Step forward—I will not allow you to go.”

“Immortal, you are mistaken. If all of Heavenly Strategy’s four generations can go, why shouldn’t we? Or are you afraid we’ll steal your glory and honors?” a burly man with a spear laughed.

...

After a round of words, no one left.

For all those here had either come resolved to face death, or simply did not fear it.

Luo Feng sighed, then solemnly said, “If you are all determined to go, you must promise me one thing.”

“Elder Feng, if you want us to keep fighting until the end, I’ll always charge in first!” Li Yan shouted, sounding just like an eager husky.

Luo Feng’s face darkened, and he gave him a sharp knock on the head.

He couldn’t hit the others, but his own junior was fair game.

“I mean, everyone must follow orders! Stay behind me at all times.”

“If you encounter a lone Japanese supernatural, our side must have at least ten times their number before attacking. If it’s a large group, use poison if you can...”

...

After a long list of instructions, the previously impassioned crowd of extraordinary folk were dumbfounded—this was not the script they had imagined!

Luo Feng explained earnestly:

Showing off and revealing miracles is for others to see; doing the job is for oneself.

What’s more important, face or your life?

There’s nothing wrong with confronting the Japanese supernaturals head-on!

But what we want is momentum, is spirit, is the audacity of a band of heroes charging into the enemy’s home base.

The details, however, need not concern us.

But when caution is called for, we must be cautious.

Steadiness is our sect’s way; prudence is my style.

By walking the path of caution and practicing the art of steadiness, we can still deal a righteous, upright blow to the Japanese supernaturals.

Is that not splendid?

Still owe Daoist Master Moyan an extra chapter—will post it tomorrow.

Time to sleep.

(End of this chapter)