The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

Taihang Mountains, Black Wind Village.

Snow particles slapped on the damaged cowhide flags of the Black Wind Village like fine sand, making a crackling sound. The elm beams of the village gate were covered with icicles, and the hanging skulls swayed gently in the wind, with half an inch of snow accumulated in the eye sockets.

The bluestone steps leading to the Dazhai were trampled into a dark brown color, and the accumulated snow mixed with mud had frozen into ice chips, making a crackling sound with every step.

The pine wood brazier in the lobby was burning brightly, and sparks suddenly burst from the pine wood knots, splashing on Yan Luo's scarred right cheek. He subconsciously shrank his neck, and the nine-ring ghost-head knife hit his knees hard, and the twelve copper rings collided and made a buzzing sound. The sound startled the crows perched on the beam, flapping their wings and shaking off the snow on their heads.

"Is the news reliable?"

Yan Luo's Adam's apple rolled up and down, his hoarse voice was like a rusty door hinge, and his left hand unconsciously stroked the rope wrapped around the handle of the knife, the knot of the rope was soaked dark red by blood.

The kneeling spy below had his forehead pressed against the stone floor, and the white breath he exhaled condensed into water droplets on the cold stone surface:
"It's absolutely true! The secret agent of the Yellow River Gang saw the secret letter from the Fuwei Escort Agency with his own eyes. Three days later, he set out from Baoding and took the official road to Beijing."

As the spy spoke, his shoulders trembled from the cold, and his coarse cotton jacket was soaked with snow, which produced white mist around the brazier.

Yansha walked out of the shadows, his body hunched like a shrimp, but his fingers were unusually thick. Dark red blood scabs were embedded between the raised joints of his knuckles, and there was unwashed minced meat between his nails. He grabbed the charred leg of lamb by the fire basin, and his teeth made a creaking sound when he bit it. Grease dripped down his chin onto his worn leather boots.

"Brother, that old fellow Lin Zhennan only has about thirty escorts under his command. We brothers are more than enough to take care of them."

Yan Sha spoke incoherently, revealing a half-bitten canine tooth. He threw the sheep bone casually, and the bone hit the blue brick floor, startling the rat in the corner and rushing into the crack in the wall.

Yan Luo used the tip of his knife to pick up the charcoal in the brazier, sparks flew everywhere, and landed on the faded tiger skin cloak. The edge of the cloak had been worn rough, revealing the dark red blood underneath:
"Have you forgotten what happened in Cangzhou three years ago? The reason why Fuwei Escort Agency has been able to survive in the martial arts world for decades is not because of martial arts."

As he spoke, Yan Luo suddenly looked up, the snowflakes outside the window hit his face, and his eyelashes were instantly covered with white frost:

"Go and call Iron Abacus."

"Yes!"

A minion responded and walked out of the lobby quickly.

After a while, there was a sound of dragging footsteps. An old man with a hunched back came in with an iron staff, and the iron sheet wrapped around the staff made a harsh sound on the ground. The old man's left eye was covered with white film, but his right eye was shining, and the end of the eye was covered with spider-web-like bloodshot. The brass abacus hanging around his waist was half a foot long, and the edges of the beads were rubbed to a shine.

"Count the deal."

Yan Luo pointed the tip of the knife at the old man.

Tie Suanpan's skinny fingers moved the abacus quickly. Every time he moved, the sound of the beads hitting each other was like a knock on people's hearts. After a while, a gleam of light flashed in his single eye: "Seventy percent sure. But we need to be on guard against three groups of people - the Yellow River Gang, the Five Mountains Sword Sect, and..."

Tie Suanpan suddenly lowered his voice, and a gurgling sound came out of his throat: "The government's Tiqi."

Yan Sha crushed the sheep bones in his hand, and the bone fragments splashed on Tie Suanpan's face: "Five Mountains Sword Sect? How dare Yue Buqun, that hypocrite, interfere?"

Yan Luo sneered and suddenly swung his knife at the brazier. The burning charcoal flew around like a meteor, and a few pieces landed on Tie Suanpan's cotton jacket, instantly burning black holes.

"Pass the order down, all the brothers in the village are ready for battle. Send another fast horse to Juma River and tell Jiang Tianshou that Black Wind Village wants 30%."

...............

Shaolin Temple, Arhat Hall.

The sound of the bangzi at the hour of Yin penetrated the morning mist of Shaolin Temple. The twenty-four ever-burning lamps in the Arhat Hall illuminated the Vajra Arhat on the murals with clear edges and corners. The gods in the murals held pestles in their hands, and stepped on demons and monsters, and under the lights, they seemed to be ready to jump out of the wall at any time.

Master Fang Zheng placed the secret letter in his hand on the altar in front of the Buddha. The edges of the letter were scorched by the oil lamp.

Four heads of the hall stood. The head of the Dharma Academy, Master Xuan Ku, wore a gray monk's robe with patches on his chest and a ruler in his hand that was worn smooth from years of use. He spoke first, his voice as deep as a bell: "Brother, if this dart fails, the relief money for the three prefectures in the south of the Yangtze River will be gone..."

Xuan Nan, the head of the Discipline Institute, snorted coldly. He had two more scars on his neck than others. He crossed his arms in front of his chest:

"The Fuwei Escort Agency has been too close to the government over the years, and now it is in trouble. This is also the cause and effect."

"Amitabha."

Fang Zheng sighed softly and stroked his fingers over the copper incense burner on the altar. The six-character mantra "Om Mani Padme Hum" engraved on the incense burner glowed faintly under the light.

"General Lin stated in the letter that this money was earned by Yunyan Pavilion because we couldn't bear to see the victims suffer and become homeless, so we donated the profits of the past few years to the emperor. 60% of the money will be sent to Shaanxi for disaster relief. This is a great act of kindness."

Xuan Bei, the abbot of the Prajna Hall, folded his hands together. He was missing two fingers on his left hand, which was said to be an injury he suffered when he was subduing demons in his early years.

"Since this concerns the lives of the people, Shaolin cannot sit idly by."

As he spoke, his mutilated hand trembled slightly, and the Buddhist beads slipped from his fingers but were quickly caught by him.

Fang Zheng pondered for a moment and turned to Xuan Tong, the abbot of Yaowang Academy who had been silent the whole time.

Xuan Tong took out a small celadon bottle from his sleeve. The Ganoderma lucidum patterns engraved on the bottle had been rubbed to the point of being blurred.

"These are three 'small pills' that can cure all kinds of poisons. There is one more thing, Master..."

Xuan Tong lowered his voice and whispered in Fang Zheng's ear: "The Medicine King Institute received a report the other day that the White Lotus Sect's 'Thousand Day Drunk' has reappeared in the martial arts world. Alas, the heavenly order is weak, evildoers are everywhere, and it is another troubled time."

Fang Zheng frowned slightly, stood up and walked to the window. The moment he opened the window, the cold wind carrying snowflakes blew in his face.

The sky in the east was already turning pale, the Shaolin Temple was covered in silver after the snow, and the pagoda forest was looming in the morning mist.

After a moment, Fang Zheng turned around and said, "Brother Xuanku, send our lay disciple Liaochen to lead the Eighteen Arhats to secretly protect the convoy. Remember, do not show your Shaolin martial arts unless it is absolutely necessary."

…………

Wudang Mountain, Zixiao Palace.

The morning light shines through the falling snow curtain and onto the white marble steps in front of Zixiao Palace. The dragon head on the edge of the stone steps has an icicle in its mouth, and the melted snow drips along the carved lines on the dragon's body. Taoist Chongxu stands in front of the palace holding the Zhenwu Sword. The sword suddenly makes a buzzing sound, and the sword tassel moves without wind, sweeping the snow off his shoulders.

"Master, is the Zhenwu Sword giving a warning?"

The young Taoist priest Cheng Yun standing behind him stared with wide eyes. The sword at his waist had not been sharpened yet, and the Wudang jade token tied to the sword tassel was gleaming in the sun.

Chongxu sheathed the sword and gently stroked the seven-star pattern on the scabbard with his fingertips. The cloud pattern carved on the scabbard had been polished by time and the deerskin wrapped around the handle had also been polished to a patina.

"Cheng Yun, go call your uncle."

As he spoke, his eyes looked towards the misty Tianzhu Peak, where the eaves of the Taoist temple were vaguely visible.

Soon, a Taoist priest in his early fifties came in quickly. He had a resolute face and crow's feet around his eyes. He was Chongxu's junior fellow Taoist priest Qingxu. Hanging from his waist was an ancient long sword. The cloth wrapped around the hilt had turned black, and the Tai Chi diagram engraved on the scabbard was blurred.

"Brother Qingxu, please take the Zhenwu Sword down the mountain with you."

Chongxu took out a piece of letter from his sleeve. The envelope had the Taoist pattern of Wudang Mountain printed on it with wax. "The Fuwei Escort Agency is escorting millions of official silver coins to the capital, but the Demon Cult is keeping its troops at bay. This is very strange."

Qingxu took the letter with both hands, frowning slightly. When he unfolded the letter, his knuckles turned white from the force. As he spoke, he subconsciously touched the hilt of the sword:

"I heard that the Yellow River Gang and the Black Wind Village have teamed up to plot this dart. Is this true?"

Chongxu looked into the depths of the sea of ​​clouds, where the distant mountains were looming in the mist: "Not only that. The remnants of the White Lotus Sect, the Five Mountains Sword Sect, and even..."

After a pause, he lowered his voice and said, "Those people in the capital may intervene. You need to find out the true intentions of the Demon Cult. If necessary, you can show the Zhenwu Sword to deter the villains."

Qingxu bowed in response and was about to leave when Chongxu said, "Take Chenggao with you. That kid is very talented and it's time for him to see the ups and downs of the martial arts world."

As he spoke, his eyes swept over a little Taoist boy who was sweeping snow in the distance. The broom in the child's hand was not even as tall as he was.

…………

Huashan, Zhengqitang.

A small red clay stove was burning brightly in the hall, and the water in the copper kettle was gurgling.

Yue Buqun sat in the main seat, his hands folded on his knees. Ten years had left deep marks on his face. His originally black beard was now mixed with silver threads, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes were as deep as if they were carved by a knife. He was wearing a purple brocade robe, and the scabbard of the long sword hanging on the jade belt around his waist was emitting a dull luster, and the gold thread wrapped around the hilt had been worn in several places.

Ning Zhongze sat beside him, sorting out several secret letters. The former "Jade Lady of Mount Hua" now had slightly gray hair on her temples, and the fine lines around her eyes were particularly obvious under the candlelight. She was wearing a blue cotton gown that had been washed white, with neatly patched cuffs.

"Master, Mr. Mo Da from Hengshan has arrived."

The disciple outside the sect reported. Before he finished speaking, Mr. Mo Da walked in slowly. The head of Hengshan Sect was more hunched than ten years ago. His originally gray hair had turned completely white and was so sparse that his scalp could be seen. He was carrying the famous huqin on his back. The python skin on the sound box was damaged in many places and was barely glued together with fish glue. His face was covered with wrinkles. His right eye had severe cataracts and was cloudy as if covered by a layer of gauze. But his left eye was still shining, and it was as sharp as a knife when he scanned the people in the hall.

"Brother Mo, you have come a long way, please take a rest. Master Dingyi and others will be here soon. Dayou, serve tea."

Yue Buqun smiled warmly, stood up to greet him, and when he extended his hand to indicate where to sit, the jade pendant on his sleeve swayed slightly with his movement.

"Yes!"

Lu Dayou left in response. This disciple of Yue Buqun is now thirty-five years old, with a short beard on his chin and fine lines around his eyes, but he is still as agile as a young man. There is a warm white jade tied to the tassel of the sword at his waist, which was given by Yue Buqun himself last year.

Not long after, Master Dingyi of the Hengshan Sect arrived with her disciples. Master Dingyi held a whisk in her hand, and her gray and white hair was tied into a neat bun, fixed with a wooden hairpin. Her face was much thinner than ten years ago, with high cheekbones and deep lines on her face. She walked with a slight limp in her right leg, which was the sequelae of the poisonous palm she was hit by when she fought with the elder of the Demon Sect five years ago.

Yilin followed Dingyi, lowering her head and twirling the Buddhist beads in her hand quickly. The once beautiful little nun now had fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and her complexion was no longer as crystal clear as when she was a girl, but the gentle temperament between her eyebrows and eyes had not diminished at all. The cuffs of her gray monk's robe were worn and frayed, and the cloth shoes on her feet were patched, but they were washed clean.

Taoist Tian Song of the Taishan Sect and his disciple Chi Baicheng followed. Tian Song was still as burly as before, but his belly had obviously gained weight and his belt had deep wrinkles. His beard was gray and two missing front teeth were exposed when he spoke. There were several new cracks on the blade of the axe at his waist, and the blade was still stained with rust.

The last to arrive were Gao Kexin, the "Golden Lion" of the Songshan School, and Le Hou, the "Big Yin-Yang Hand". Gao Kexin's eyes were still sinister, but there was a large bald spot on his head, and the sparse hair around it was barely combed into a bun. The iron chain wrapped around his waist was rusty and made a harsh rattling sound when he walked.

Le Hou is now fatter than he was ten years ago, with a double chin resting on his collar. He wears a bronze ring on his right thumb with the Songshan School logo engraved on the surface.

After everyone was seated, Yue Buqun coughed lightly, and the hall suddenly became quiet:

"Today, I invite you all to come here to discuss the matter of the one million silver darts from the Fuwei Escort Agency."

Nun Dingyi waved the whisk in her hand, sweeping the tea residue off the corner of the table, and looked directly into Yue Buqun's eyes: "Senior Brother Yue, Hengshan Sect only asks one question - is the source of this dart silver legitimate?"

Taoist Tian Song slammed the table and stood up, causing the teacup on the table to jump up and spill tea on his coarse cloth. "If it's stolen silver, our Taishan Sect will be the first to disagree!"

As he spoke, the veins on his neck bulged and his saliva splashed on Le Hou's face opposite him.

Le Hou sneered and wiped the spit off his face with his sleeve: "You are so arrogant..."

"Everyone, be quiet. This silver is the savings of Yunyan Pavilion over the years..."

Yue Buqun interrupted Le Hou and raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet. After explaining the origin of the silver, he took out an official document from his sleeve. The wax seal on the document was intact, with the official seal of Baoding Prefecture printed on it.

"This is an official certificate issued by Baoding Prefecture. The silver will be delivered in three batches. The first batch of 300,000 taels will leave in three days."

Mr. Mo Da suddenly spoke, his voice as hoarse as a violin: "What does Alliance Leader Yue plan to do?"

"The Five Mountains Sword Sects are of the same origin." Yue Buqun looked around at everyone, "I suggest that each of us send two good fighters, led by Junior Sister Ning, to secretly protect the convoy. First, to ensure the safety of the government's money, and second..."

He smiled slightly: "It can also be used to investigate recent unusual movements in the martial arts world."

Gao Kexin and Le Hou looked at each other and narrowed their eyes: "Songshan Sect can send people, but they have to share 20% of the profits."

As soon as these words were spoken, there was an uproar in the hall.

Master Dingyi slammed her whisk heavily, sweeping the snacks off the table. "Amitabha! When did the Five Mountains Sword Sect become a bandit group that robs escorts?"

Yue Buqun’s expression remained unchanged: “Senior Brother Gao, you are joking. Guarding an escapade is the essence of chivalry, how can I ask for a reward? But…”

Changing the subject, he tapped his fingers on the table and said, "If any disciples from various sects suffer losses while escorting the convoy, the Fuwei Escort Agency will compensate them."

As he spoke, his eyes swept across the crowd and lingered on Le Hou's face for a moment.

Le Hou lowered his head and did not look at Yue Buqun, but his eyes flickered and no one knew what he was planning.

The meeting continued until the afternoon.

The final decision is: Ning Zhongze from the Huashan Sect will take Linghu Chong and Lin Pingzhi; Yi Lin and Zheng E from the Hengshan Sect; Xiang Danian, a disciple of Liu Zhengfeng from the Hengshan Sect; Chi Baicheng from the Taishan Sect; Sha Tianjiang from the Songshan Sect and twelve others will set off for Baoding tomorrow.

After everyone left, Ning Zhongze was worried: "Brother, the Songshan Sect obviously has other intentions."

Yue Buqun stood in front of the window, looking at the darkening sky. The Jade Maiden Peak in the distance was dyed dark red by the setting sun, and the outline of the peak looked particularly sharp in the twilight.

Yue Buqun stroked his beard and nodded slightly: "They just want to take this opportunity to weaken the strength of each faction. You must remember this on this trip - no matter what happens, keep Shan'er safe first."

(End of this chapter)