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墨書 Inktalez
The attendants filled the wine and hung the lanterns, and the banquet in the East Flower Hall began under the moonlight.
It was the Flower Hall, but it was still indoors, as it had grown quite cold. Charcoal fires were lit inside, and the candlelight was bright. Laughter and chatter filled the air, yet everyone kept in mind the purpose of their gathering.
Since seating was free, the four of us joined Su Liche and his group at one table. The much-admired beauty, Ruo Chanjuan, arrived without any attendants, standing out with her solitary presence. She moved gracefully, pausing for a moment before flashing a captivating smile and taking a seat beside us.
Her smile was enchanting, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was directed at Nie Qiuyuan, which made me uncomfortable. However, she did not display any inappropriate behavior; she simply sat quietly and engaged in conversation while drinking with everyone.
After a few rounds of wine, Lord Fang finally steered the conversation toward the topic everyone had been anticipating.
"Everyone here is among the finest detectives in the Henan Circuit and well-acquainted with its affairs. The reason for your long journey here today is to discuss the unresolved case that occurred at White Horse Temple some time ago. This matter is of great importance and has drawn significant attention from the Sovereign. You are all here to share in this burden," Fang Xianling said, his cheerful demeanor fading as he spoke solemnly.
Under Lord Fang's lead, everyone raised their cups boldly and drank deeply. I too tilted my head back, pouring wine into my mouth before holding it for a moment. Then I pretended to pick up a teacup to sip tea, discreetly spitting out the wine into the tea.
This was a common trick used in modern drinking establishments, taught to me personally by Zhang Yang to prevent me from revealing my true self when pressed. Ideally, one would spit into a napkin, but since there were no napkins in ancient times, I had to make do. After all, how could I miss such an excellent opportunity to gather information about the case?
"You all probably know that White Horse Temple is a place where members of the royal family come to meditate and understand Buddhist teachings. However, now that our Sovereign has just ascended to the throne, such an incident has occurred. If we cannot clarify this matter quickly, it will weigh heavily on the Sovereign's heart," Fang Xianling continued slowly.
I felt somewhat surprised. Thinking back to Young Master Mu from Wanzi Mountain and his imposing nature as Taizong Emperor made me believe that the case at White Horse Temple would not become a significant burden on him, no matter how bizarre or perplexing it might be. Unless there were deeper issues at play.
As I listened to Commander Fang Xuanling of the case investigation team recounting events, I gradually began to understand the ins and outs of the White Horse Temple Incident.
On October 15th during the Lower Yuan Festival, a day dedicated to Water Officials for resolving misfortunes, White Horse Temple held grand ceremonies to pray for blessings for the people—a yearly tradition that continued this year as well.
In fact, while worshipping Water Officials during Lower Yuan Festival originally stemmed from Taoist rituals, due to the open-mindedness of Tang Dynasty culture and changes over time, it became ingrained in popular tradition as a festival for public worship. Thus, major temples also held ceremonies during this time to pray for good fortune. White Horse Temple was the oldest and most prestigious temple in the area, making its ceremonies particularly solemn and respectful.
Located east of Luoyang City, White Horse Temple was renowned because it was built as China's first temple following the introduction of Buddhism. Many emperors who practiced Buddhism had visited it over generations. In ordinary temples during ceremonies, people would come to make wishes and light incense while enlightened monks would chant scriptures for them. However, White Horse Temple was different; it had closed its doors to outsiders.
Only Secular Disciples of White Horse Temple and locally respected laymen who practiced Buddhism—totaling one hundred twenty individuals—were allowed to participate in its sacrificial ceremonies. In essence, these one hundred twenty individuals had undergone "political scrutiny," meaning only those recognized by White Horse Temple were qualified to attend such events.
The mystery of the White Horse Temple unfolded during this Ritual Ceremony.
On October 15th, the White Horse Temple welcomed one hundred and twenty devout Laymen early in the morning. Abbot Master Liaochen, adorned in a regal robe embroidered with auspicious lotus patterns, led the fasting and bathed Laymen to the Mahavira Hall.
Master Liaochen, along with the Four Great Elders of the White Horse Temple—Realization, Liao Jue, Liao Zhen, and Liao Chang—ascended the Dharma Platform. The monks and Laymen stood respectfully with their palms together on either side of the platform, while the offering messengers and altar volunteers knelt in reverence. The sound of bells and drums resonated, accompanied by the harmonious notes of a Conch Shell, creating a sacred and solemn atmosphere.
Since everyone present was a disciple of Buddhism, the ceremony's proceedings differed from typical rituals, resembling more of a regular morning service. The congregation began by reciting the precepts and praises of true incense, followed by three recitations of the Mahaprajnaparamita Sutra. After finishing the chanting, each Layman approached to offer incense before entering into a process of repentance.
It was during this moment that an extraordinary event occurred.
At that time, the Abbot's spiritual power seemed particularly heightened. Under his guidance, everyone in the hall focused their attention inward—eyes on the nose, nose on the mouth, mouth on the heart—chanting the Bhaisajyaguru Mantra until they quickly entered a meditative state. Typically, after reciting a section of scripture, the Dharma Bell would be struck three times; after nine strikes, the chanting would conclude. The congregation closed their eyes to listen to the Abbot's recitation, feeling as if lotus flowers were ascending around them, their spirits cleansed and filled with joy.
After six strikes of the Dharma Bell, it felt as though the Abbot's chanting had come to an end. Then they heard the Dharma Bell slowly and clearly ring out its final three strikes. When they opened their eyes, an unbelievable scene unfolded.
In the solemn Mahavira Hall, barely any incense had burned away; smoke lingered at their noses while offerings remained on the altar. The clock still indicated the same hour. However, apart from the one hundred twenty Laymen present, every monk and elder from White Horse Temple had vanished without a trace—not a single one remained!
This was how those participating in the ceremony at White Horse Temple described what happened. If it had been just one person experiencing this phenomenon, it might have been dismissed; but now all one hundred twenty individuals exchanged bewildered glances, utterly astonished. Their accounts were completely identical.
This sudden disappearance could not be doubted!
I too was left speechless. Such an occurrence defied all scientific principles unless there truly existed a Demon God in this world!
In fact, I was not alone in my astonishment. Although everyone had received brief messages detailing the situation at White Horse Temple, after hearing all accounts from those present, we all felt an overwhelming sense of disbelief.
It seemed as if all our previous speculations had been completely severed. Initially thinking that perhaps there were some overlooked details in what appeared to be a straightforward case, it now seemed there were no gaps left to fill.
Hundreds of monks had vanished without a trace during those nine strikes of the Dharma Bell—this was truly an unfathomable event that led one to suspect that all one hundred twenty individuals had conspired together to deceive us.
But how could that be possible? One hundred twenty people from various walks of life who barely knew each other—what could they possibly gain from such a collective deception?
"Everyone, the case is concluded, and this is all the information we currently have," Lord Fang Xuanling said calmly. "Sovereign, I hope you can solve this case quickly. Right now, I would like to hear your opinions. Are you planning to collaborate and investigate together, or do you intend to work independently and go your separate ways?"
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Author: Come on, you've already crossed over; you're not in your original body anymore, okay? Can you really still get drunk after just one drink?
Ye Liuhui: Ah? Right! I forgot! This is a very serious scientific question. Next time, I’ll definitely find someone to try it with.
Author: Who do you want to try it with?
Ye Liuhui: Night Phantom, I guess.
Author: Why?
Ye Liuhui: Just because it's Night Phantom.
(Night Phantom: Is this the rhythm of getting friend-zoned? I'm already crying in the dark...)
Author: I just don't get it. Why does anyone need to find someone else to drink with? Can't they just try it themselves? Sigh, this group of people—why is there not one without a hidden agenda? It's driving me crazy.
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