The light of the sword is like the moon reflecting on Kyushu

Chapter 2065 Such a coincidental encounter?

Before we knew it, we had arrived at Anqiang City.

The city wall was only about two zhang high, its surface pockmarked with honeycomb-like pits from the west wind, and three faded flags were stuck diagonally in the crenellations of the city walls.
The left banner is embroidered with a yak's head, the right banner is painted with the sun and moon, and the tattered blue flag in the middle vaguely bears the character "Qiang" in clerical script.

Three Tibetan soldiers were dozing against the doorway, wool curls peeking out from the seams of their raw cowhide armor, and the curved swords in their sheaths were half a foot shorter than the Song Dynasty-style broadswords.

Perhaps because of the cool weather, there were few people coming and going inside or outside the city gates.

Pang Shiwu reined in his old horse, and the entire convoy stopped at the same time.

The guard suddenly opened his eyes, the scar at the corner of his eye trembling with the rustling of his leather armor: "Travel permit!"

His Mandarin was as stiff as a knife being sharpened on a pebble.

Pang Shiwu handed over the official document, and the gatekeeper pointed to the carriage with his rough, black, scale-like fingers: "What's inside? Tea?"

Pang Shiwu laughed and said, "Those are my wife and young master," and then slipped a silver ingot into the guard's hand.

The guard's hand suddenly felt heavy, probably holding at least twenty taels of silver! This amount of money was equivalent to three months' salary for him!
He glanced back at his two companions and saw that they were still dozing off. He was secretly pleased and took the opportunity to stuff the silver ingots into his pocket!
He smiled and said, "Oh, so you're family." He glanced at the six carriages following behind, with a man on horseback accompanying them, and casually asked, "By the way, why do you have so many carriages?"

Pang Shiwu chuckled: "Madam comes from a prominent family, so it's inevitable that she has more maids and servants than usual, you know what I mean."

The guard chuckled and stepped aside, saying, "Please come in!"

Pang Shiwu got back into the car, grabbed the reins, and the convoy started moving again.

The copper bells on the city wall suddenly rang, startling several ravens into flight. Their wings swept past the yak skull hanging above the gate, its empty eye sockets staring at the horse dung scattered all over the barbican.

As the convoy passed through the city gate, a breathtaking view suddenly opened up before them!
Occasionally, a few brown-clad Tibetans would pass by carrying willow baskets, the baskets overflowing with golden waves of barley.

In the middle of the street, there was a Han-style wooden workshop, with a wooden sign inscribed with "Tea-Horse Price Comparison" hanging between the beams:
A fine horse: one hundred and twenty kilograms of Duichuan tea

One healthy three-year-old ox: mixed with sixty catties of Hunan tea
Thirty raw sheepskins: ten catties of aged tea
Five or six Uyghur merchants squatted under the sign, their sapphire blue brocade robes tucked into their copper belts, counting copper coins. The copper coins of the Central Plains had a drawback: a thousand coins were needed to exchange for one tael of silver. To exchange for several hundred taels of silver, one would need to prepare several sacks of copper coins!

Suddenly, a caravan of yaks rattled by, their cowbells jingling, their tracks carving deep furrows into the loose soil. Pang Shiwu's gaze followed the carts, and he was startled to discover that the road westward along the dirt street was becoming increasingly menacing.

In the military market, a square meter of about three zhang (approximately 10 meters), iron casting anvils were set up, and bare-chested barbarian craftsmen were forging arrowheads, with the smell of coking coal mixed with the stench of urine from quenching permeating the air.

A Han-looking armorer squatted beside the anvil, but a Song army-style breastplate was turned out from the left-fastening brown robe.

He picked up a three-edged awl, blew a whistle, and said, "Li Jiaben ordered one hundred curved swords. Come and pick them up in three days!"

The ironware was piled up, reflecting a cold light, and the dark red blood residue under the anvil had long since congealed into the color of rust.

Suddenly, a Tibetan man rushed out from the side, his sheepskin coat concealing a broken spear shaft, shouting in broken Mandarin: "Exchange salt! The spear that broke while guarding the beacon tower yesterday!"

The blacksmith tossed over half a piece of rock salt and threw the broken spear into the furnace, instantly sending up plumes of blue smoke.

As the carriage moved forward, Feng Jiuxiao glanced around and saw a garrison canteen at the corner. A whole rib of beef was being cooked in a large pot on the stove. Quinoa grains were mixed in with the foam on the surface of the broth, and white steam rose up, filling the air with a fragrant aroma that whetted his appetite!

Suddenly, the old Tibetan woman in charge of cooking lifted the leather curtain, revealing a tattoo on her wrist exposed by her sleeve—presumably the special brand of the Tuyuhun prisoners!

Suddenly, the city drums sounded urgently from the city tower, and all the pedestrians on the street instantly stood still, pressed against the walls!
Ten elite black-armored riders escorted the chieftain of Qingtang as they sped past. A five-foot-long recurve bow hung on the side of the mastiff-skin saddle, the turquoise inlaid at the bow tip shimmering in the sunlight, like the vertical pupils of a venomous snake!
As the chieftain brushed past Pang Shiwu, his gaze turned cold, and he even glanced at him!
Pang Shiwu immediately frowned, turned around and glared angrily: "What the hell are you looking at?"

Those dozen or so riders seemed to be on official business and focused on getting on their way. Perhaps because their hooves were thundering, none of the dozen or so black-armored cavalrymen seemed to hear Pang Shiwu's insults and continued to gallop without stopping!

Pang Shiwu sneered, "Trying to act tough in front of me? I'll beat you to a pulp!"

A mournful melody drifted from the depths of the alley, where two old men were seen leaning against a half-collapsed Tang Dynasty stele, drinking together. The one playing the sanxian (a three-stringed plucked instrument) strummed a fragment of the "Liangzhou" score, while the one playing the hujia (a two-stringed bowed instrument) tapped on a Song Dynasty porcelain wine cup: "When I was transferred in the first year of the Tianxi era, a rabbit-fur wine cup was sent from Fanlou in Dongjing (Kaifeng)..."

Amidst the mournful sound of the ocarina, the temple bells of the White Pagoda Temple to the east rang out, the conch shells of the Tibetan Red Sect lamas mingling with the wooden fish sounds of Han monks. Sunlight spilled onto the prayer flag poles on South Street, where copper bells hanging from the corners of the flags were engraved with Phagspa script, while below them, in Han clerical script, were the characters for "Offering to Buddha by Li Yaya of Longxi!"

Suddenly, a white-robed monk appeared in front of Pang Shiwu's carriage. His monk's robe was as thin as gauze, and there were nine incense scars on his head, like the Big Dipper reflecting the snow. His face was like a full moon, his forehead was full, his nose was like a hanging gall, and his eyebrows were like swords. He had a heroic and martial appearance, but his sharpness was hidden by his long eyelashes. When his eyes moved, he looked like a young master who had read a lot of poetry and books!
A gentle breeze rustled her clothes, making them flutter like willow branches swaying in the Guanyin Bodhisattva's vase in the South China Sea. She walked forward, her left hand behind her back and her right hand forming the Abhaya Mudra (gesture of reassurance).

At that moment, the sunlight shone on his shoulders, making them glow brilliantly, as if he were immersed in a golden light!
In Pang Shiwu's eyes, the white-robed monk was now radiating a Buddha-like aura!

To the left is the unmelted snow on Feilai Peak of Lingyin Temple, and to the right is the newly blooming flower in Baolian Pond of Leiyin Temple. Standing still, it is like Weituo holding a pestle to guard the temple, and when you move, it is like Manjushri stepping on a golden lion.

In a trance, the monk's every step seemed to create lotus blossoms!

Pang Shiwu's eyes flashed: "Are you Venerable White Lotus?"

Venerable White Lotus clasped his hands together, bowed, and said, "It is indeed this humble monk! Greetings, Benefactor Pang!"

Helian Rongguang frowned as he rode away, thinking to himself: That monk has a dignified appearance and extraordinary demeanor. He is clearly not a Tibetan lama but a Han Chinese monk. I wonder what his background is!
Pang Shiwu asked, "What are you doing here?"

Venerable Bailian put his hands together and said, “Donor, you probably don’t know that there is a branch of my Great Bright Temple not far from here. I have been ordered by the Dharma King to carry out some business.”

Pang Shiwu said, "I see. It's truly fate that we meet today."

Venerable White Lotus laughed and said, "Indeed! It is fate!" He thought to himself: If I hadn't come here specifically to ambush you, how could I have met you?
"Will Young Master Feng accompany us?"

"My older brother is behind me! Big brother—" Pang Shiwu shouted loudly.

Feng Jiuxiao said, "I heard you! Venerable White Lotus, how have you been?"

Venerable Bailian walked up to Feng Jiuxiao and clasped his hands together, saying, "Thanks to your blessing, young master, all is well. Greetings, young master!"

"Why are you here?"

"I have come here on my master's orders."

"wait for me?"

Venerable Bailian looked embarrassed and was about to speak when Feng Jiuxiao said, "Hey, don't try to fool me. I don't believe you could appear in front of me by such a coincidence! Tell me, what are the Dharma King's orders for sending you to me?"

Venerable Bailian immediately bowed and said, "No, no! My master sent me to invite you to the Great Bright Temple!"

Pang Shiwu was somewhat displeased: "Hey? Bai Lian, this isn't right! Why didn't you answer like this when I asked you?"

Bai Lian immediately clasped her hands together, looking apologetic: "My master specifically instructed me not to reveal the purpose of this trip!"

Pang Shiwu said, "Then why did you confess as soon as my older brother asked you?"

Venerable White Lotus was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Your elder brother has discerning eyes; this humble monk... cannot be fooled!"

Pang Shiwu was speechless with anger!
"Oh, you mean I'm stupid and easy to fool, right?"

Venerable White Lotus immediately said, "Young Master Pang, you flatter me!"

Feng Jiuxiao said, "Alright, fifteen, stop scaring people! Venerable One, compared to us, I am the local bigwig. Now that I've come to your territory, a welcome banquet is inevitable, isn't it?"

Venerable White Lotus immediately smiled and said, "It's an honor! Young master, please follow me!"

Thank you for your support and encouragement, 202005028005038787!