71
At the cottage on the border between Anyang City and Fuzhou.
The village was an utterly ordinary one within the bounds of Fengzhou, but its residents had all already fled. Now it was occupied by Liu Ziyi’s rebel army and heavily guarded. The sky was overcast; dim light filtered in through the half-open window lattice, casting a glow that blurred the line between the human world and hell.
A man lay on the worn wooden bed — so still that, if not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, he could easily be mistaken for a corpse.
He was a Tianqian, his broad frame faintly revealing the strength he once had, but now wasted and frail. The man’s cheeks were sunken, his eyes closed. His bare skin was covered in rashes of various sizes, and his flesh radiated a subtle heat. Each rash flared bright red, as if about to rupture and ooze at any moment.
This guy was finally going to die, Liu Ziyi thought.
“…Shengzun[mfn]Shengzun is like a Chinese version of pope, or it could be translated as the Holy One and Venerable One[/mfn].” The man’s voice was hoarse, barely audible, drifting like a wandering soul.
Just a few steps from the bed stood a tall, slender man clad in immaculate white robes. His long black hair was smooth and glossy, framing a face as pale as fresh snow. Between his brows rested a small red mole, like a drop of cinnabar ink. With his eyes downcast, his expression carried a faint air of compassion, almost like a merciful Buddha.
He was surprisingly a Kunze.
He lifted his gaze and met the man’s disoriented eyes.
The man asked, “After I die… will I truly reach the realm of ultimate bliss?”
“Of course,” The Kunze said gently. His voice had a strange quality to it, once heard, it seemed to soothe the soul. “The Holy Lord will forgive all the sins you’ve committed.”
The man’s breathing grew labored, his pupils dilating slightly. He asked, “Will my father forgive me too?”
The kunze replied, “Ever since you earnestly converted to my religion, he has already granted you his forgiveness.”
“That’s good… that’s good…” The man gasped heavily for breath, a look of relief spreading across his face as he smiled. A trace of compassion appeared in Liu Ziyi’s eyes. This person had once been a local thug who, in his youth, had driven his own father to death with rage and went on to commit many more misdeeds until he joined the Jiulian Sect.
Who would have thought he’d end up contracting the plague?
He was among the first to be infected. No one knew that the outbreak had originally begun in Ping’an Town, under the jurisdiction of Heyang City in Fengzhou.
Now, Ping’an Town has been burned to the ground and reduced to a desolate village.
The man parted his lips, murmuring scripture. He chanted with devotion, though each word came with difficulty, until suddenly, he vomited a mouthful of blood, and an arm covered in red rashes slipped limply to his side.
Liu Ziyi said, “Shengzun, he’s dead.”
The Kunze, who was addressed as “Shengzun”, said, “Bury him.”
Liu Ziyi replied, “Yes.”
The two of them exited the house, and someone came to report, saying, “Shengzun, King Yi, and General Sun has returned.”
After Liu Ziyi conquered Fengzhou, he called himself King Yi[mfn]King of Righteousness[/mfn], and the rebel army under his command was also called the Yi Army[mfn]Righteous Army[/mfn].
They entered a temporary hall that had been converted from a house. Inside, Sun Qing stood alongside a man wearing a ghostly mask, both already waiting. Sun Qing turned and bowed to the two of them, saying, “Shengzun, King Yi, Sun Qing is honored not to have failed the mission.”
Liu Ziyi smiled and said, “General Sun and Your Highness Lan Duo have worked hard on the journey.”
Lan Duo removed his ghostly mask, revealing a face with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. His gray pupils marked his bloodline as that of the Tianqian, a foreign ethnic group. He stared directly at the white-robed Kunze and said, “Yun Zhuo, our cavalry has already shown itself. We can’t hide it from Liangdu any longer. Don’t forget what you promised me.”
Yun Zhuo gave a slight smile and replied, “Naturally.”
He continued, “Tomorrow, the heavens will bring great fire to Baima Temple. Your Highness’s family can take this opportunity to leave Liangdu.”
Lan Duo said, “Now that Mu Peizhi knows our strength, he’s likely to take precautions. If he avoids direct confrontation with us and seeks to delay… I’m afraid—”
The rebel army’s foundation was still weak. Although they had obtained a large sum of funds from plundering landlords and wealthy gentry to support military supplies, if the war dragged on, it would be nothing but harm to the rebellion.
Liu Ziyi smiled and said, “Why the hurry, Your Highness? Shengzun has already made plans for this.”
Lan Duo raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Liu Ziyi replied, “The fate of Daliang is at its end. We are merely following the will of Heaven. With everything going as it should, we have divine assistance. Your Highness need not worry.”
Lan Duo glanced at Yun Zhuo with a sneer and said, “To use your people’s words, we’re all in the same boat. Naturally, I hope the Yi Army is invincible and unites the world as soon as possible.”
Liu Ziyi, however, did not respond to his words. He lifted his chin slightly and said, “Your Highness, look.”
Lan Duo followed his gaze and saw a towering fire, with black smoke curling up. He said, “This is…?”
That was the site where the infected were being incinerated. Liu Ziyi gave a knowing smile and said, “The flames are already rising.”
Lan Duo turned his gaze to Yun Zhuo. The young Kunze appeared serene, his eyes reflecting the blazing flames, and as if sensing Lan Duo’s gaze, he tilted his head and met his eyes.
Their eyes met, and to Lan Duo, Yun Zhuo’s gaze seemed like the surface of a tranquil lake, shimmering at first glance, yet concealing the force of a deep ocean beneath. An inexplicable chill crept down Lan Duo’s spine.
The plague in Fuzhou City came without warning.
At first, more and more citizens in the city began to develop fevers. They went to the medical halls for treatment, but Fuzhou had already suffered greatly from the ravages of the rebel army, and most of the medical halls had shut down. Those that remained open were overcrowded with patients. The physicians at these medical halls, seeing only fevers at first, prescribed a few remedies for the common cold and left it at that. Who could have known that, a few days later, many of the patients developed red rashes all over their bodies?
These patients, with persistent low fevers, grew increasingly lethargic, suffering from vomiting and body aches. Eventually, some even vomited blood and died in the medical halls.
The physicians at the medical halls were helpless.
The number of patients with fever gradually increased, and the medical halls was shrouded in a dark cloud, with cries everywhere.
There was no chief official in Fuzhou City, and the experienced physicians saw that the situation was not good and reported it to the prefectural government, but the petty officials in the prefectural government were impatient to deal with such common people and thought he was exaggerating.
Moreover, in chaotic times, the lives of the common folk were as insignificant as insects. A few deaths hardly mattered, and it even saved the government the trouble of providing relief rations as well.
Who didn’t know that ever since the pacification forces took control of Fuzhou, the city had been under the administration of Marquis Annan? Outside the city, rebels were stirring, and who would dare trouble Marquis Annan with such trivial matters?
This delay continued, and soon more soldiers in the army began showing symptoms of fever. The military physicians, seeing the situation worsening, reported to Mu Peizhi, but by the time the news reached him, the situation had already escalated severely.
The military physician, surnamed Deng, was in his prime years. His face was grave as he saw Mu Peizhi enter the camp. He hurried to stop him, saying, “Lord Marquis, do not approach.”
Mu Peizhi looked around at the ten or so soldiers lying inside the tent and asked, “What exactly is going on?”
Military Physician Deng, with his face covered with a cloth to shield himself from the infection, responded, “The soldiers in the army are strong and healthy, and it is rare for so many of them to develop fevers.” He motioned for Mu Peizhi not to approach, then walked over to a small bed, lifting the clothes of one of the soldiers. The soldier’s chest was covered in red rashes, scattered all over his skin. “At first, this old man thought it was a cold, but how could a cold cause so many red rashes?”
Mu Peizhi’s heart sank.
Military Physician Deng said, “This old man went to several medical halls in the city and found that many citizens there are suffering from the same affliction. In fact, some have already died from it.”
“Lord Marquis,” he looked into Mu Peizhi’s eyes and whispered, “This old man suspects that this is the plague.”
Mu Peizhi gasped, “Military Physician Deng, are you certain of this?”
Military Physician Deng lowered his voice and said, “Eight or nine out of ten.”
He said, “The area around Fuzhou has already suffered a heavy loss of life due to snow disasters and human-caused misfortunes. After such a calamity, the plague is especially likely to strike. When one person contracts the plague, it spreads to everyone in the room; when one room is infected, the entire village is affected, and eventually the whole region.” Military Physician Deng took a deep breath and said, “This old man asks that Lord Marquis make a decision promptly.”
Mu Peizhi fell silent. As he looked at the faces of the soldiers in the tent, each one bearing the signs of illness, their groans of pain filling the air, a creeping coldness slowly spread through his hands and feet. After a long time, Mu Peizhi spoke, “Please do not make this matter public for now, Military Physician Deng.”
Military Physician Deng cupped his hands and said, “Yes.”
Mu Peizhi then asked, “How many physicians are accompanying us on this campaign?”
Military Physician Deng said, “Including this old man, there are ten physicians in total, along with thirty medicinal apprentices.”
Mu Peizhi replied, “Please treat those soldiers with utmost care. If any effective treatment is found, or if anything is needed, send word directly to the military tent.”
Physician Deng responded promptly, “This old man understood.”
Mu Peizhi turned and stepped out of the tent. He looked up, the rain had stopped. The air carried a damp chill, and mist curled around the distant blue-green mountains. It would have been a beautiful scene, yet it weighed heavily on the heart, as though another storm were looming on the horizon.
