Chapter Sixteen: The Temple

On a bright and clear morning, the carriage set off from the small town, swaying gently as it moved. This time, however, it was accompanied by eight horsemen riding alongside.

“The next stop is a temple…” Su Xinghe spoke in a clear, melodic voice, much like when they had been traveling earlier. He let the carriage proceed slowly while leaning against the carriage wall, narrating the upcoming journey and landmarks with great ease.

Zhang Chengyi put down his book for a moment, unable to resist listening. It was quite fascinating.

Regarding temples, there was actually much to discuss. During the Northern Song Dynasty, temples were generally divided into two categories: those with imperial plaques and those without.

An imperial plaque was a certificate granted by the court. Firstly, it exempted the temple from taxes; secondly, it bestowed land ownership; and it also elevated the temple’s reputation. Temples with these plaques had access to blank “du ties” — official documents allowing monks to prove their legitimacy.

Here, the complex du tie system, which influenced many facets of Song society, came into play.

To simplify, a blank du tie, when filled out, made one a legitimate monk, essentially serving as a new form of identification, wiping the slate clean of past misdeeds.

This system became a lawful means of absolving one’s past.

Because of its special function, many civilians collected and traded these du ties, hence the saying, “Merchants and wealthy citizens vie for them.”

Even the court itself sold du ties. Su Shi once petitioned the court not for money but for a hundred du ties when dredging West Lake, and the military wages Yue Fei received were also in du ties.

In a way, these were ancient precious commodities.

Temples with plaques received du ties as rewards on special occasions like the emperor’s ascension or birthday, serving as a unique form of income that appreciated over time.

Most importantly, temples without plaques could be legally and easily dismantled by local authorities, and monks without du ties faced punishment, including facial tattooing and exile.

One could not simply build a temple and shave one’s head to claim the title of a master of some temple.

Frankly, the plaque and du tie systems were methods by which the court controlled the number of temples and monks. Temples granted plaques were usually large and influential, while those who obtained du ties were either wealthy or had passed examinations—there was always a reason legitimizing their ordination.

The court used plaques and du ties to confer benefits on some while preventing ordinary people from becoming monks casually. Otherwise, if peasants all became monks, who would sell their blood and lives?

However, despite court control, numerous unofficial “wild” temples existed among the populace. These had garnered local fame over time and, lacking plaques, local governments often dared not demolish them outright due to their influence.

Nonetheless, temples with plaques enjoyed vigorous official promotion, and as their renown spread, wild temples gradually declined.

By now, many wild temples had begun seeking new survival strategies, each attracting pilgrims through their own means. Some harbored monks who had purchased du ties with money, creating a mixed and sometimes shady scene.

Some offered pawn services, others traded intelligence, some acted as pimps, and some even became famous for their cooking—

“Wait, a temple famous for cooking? Where is that?” Zhang Chengyi asked with curiosity.

“Well…” Su Xinghe hesitated, showing some difficulty. Although his intelligence network was extensive, it didn’t mean he could uncover every detail about how a temple made its name.

“Master Zhang, I know this one,” Xue Muhua said as he rode over, leaning on his horse’s back, trying not to look down at his master and family head. “The monk’s name is Huiming. He’s an excellent cook of pork dishes, attracting many high officials and martial artists passing through.”

“We could detour there. It’s only about ten days’ journey,” he said, noticing his master’s interest. He pulled out a map from his saddlebag and pointed to the area below.

Hmm, it was indeed a slight detour, but a monk skilled in roasting pork was genuinely intriguing. Zhang Chengyi hesitated briefly but, with plenty of time ahead, decided, “Why not take a look?”

Su Xinghe nodded. “According to our route, we will still pass through the next destination I mentioned earlier, Jingfu Temple. It’s a bustling market and a hub for intelligence exchange.”

“I’ve heard it has close ties with the Beggars’ Sect,” he paused, then said, “I noticed Master Zhang seems quite concerned about the Beggars’ Sect news, so I sent people to investigate.”

“I received word that the four elders of the Beggars’ Sect—Xi, Song, Chen, and Wu—recently held a secret meeting in the Dabie Mountains. Afterwards, Beggars’ disciples gathered en masse in the Jiangnan region. Years ago, Elder Xu Chongxiao of the Beggars’ Sect had gone into seclusion at Qingliang Temple on Mount Wutai. He was invited out and is now traveling southward, visiting various temples along the way.”

“At this moment, he is staying at Jingfu Temple.”

Xu Chongxiao. Zhang Chengyi also remembered this figure vividly.

When reading *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*, the story in Apricot Forest was a lifetime of scheming. Qiao Feng first prevented Quan Guanqing from speaking, so as not to disrupt the thoughts of the Beggars’ disciples, then appealed to their emotions and reason, and finally took the punishment himself, effectively controlling the situation.

The four elders—Xi, Song, Chen, and Wu—who knew he was Khitan, remained silent, clearly unwilling to reveal the matter. When it was eventually exposed, three elders—Song, Wu, and Xi—along with three leaders and half the disciples supported him.

This showed that the words of outsiders like the wise Master Zhi Guang, Tan Gong and Tan Po, and Zhao Qian Sun were of little consequence. No one could decide the leader of the Beggars’ Sect based on a few words or an uncertain letter.

Even if Quan Guanqing was eloquent, he could no longer change the situation. With the Western Xia emergency looming, the Beggars’ Sect issue was pushed aside.

With Qiao Feng’s meticulous mind and methods, he would never have relinquished his position publicly so easily.

The most important figure was Elder Xu Chongxiao himself.

At eighty-seven, the eldest in rank, even the former leader Wang Jiantong called him uncle. After years of seclusion, he emerged, inviting Master Zhi Guang and others, forcing Qiao Feng to step down.

If he had not resigned, the Beggars’ Sect would have split immediately.

Why did this old man intervene?

Simply put, the novel almost explicitly reveals it. When Qiao Feng first tried to return the leader’s token—the Dog-Beating Staff—Xu Chongxiao reached out to take it but was stopped by Elder Song.

At this point, the elders, leaders, and even Qiao Feng likely understood the old man’s intentions.

Otherwise, Elder Wu would not have decisively forced everyone to take sides, linking arms with Elders Song and Xi.

When Qiao Feng left, discarding the staff, Xu Chongxiao again reached to catch it but was repelled by an unseen force, watching helplessly as the staff plunged into the ground.

It was clear they both knew what was happening.

The highest-ranking elder of the Beggars’ Sect, after years of seclusion, seized upon the leader’s possible identity issue to escalate matters and attempt a power grab.

This was the truth behind the lifetime of scheming in Apricot Forest.

In fact, even after Qiao Feng stepped down, the Beggars’ Sect was left with many hidden mines. The factional divide was clear. What would happen next?

His choice was little different from his later suicide at Yanmen Pass—when trapped in a dilemma, he seemed only to have the option of sacrificing himself.

“Xu Chongxiao,” Zhang Chengyi said with a faint, amused smile on his face. “Let me meet this Elder Xu.”

Su Xinghe, seeing his master’s expression, silently offered a moment of sympathy for Xu Chongxiao.

That old fellow was truly unlucky.