Chapter Four: The Everlasting Lamp of Ten Thousand Fathoms

Liu Yi could feel the icy, bone-piercing chill of the spear tip, and the pursuers sent by Ni Manzi could catch up at any moment. He could already faintly hear their footsteps and shouts echoing behind him.

Yet he had never felt so exhilarated, never been so audacious: “You are alone, my lady, with nothing but a spear. Even if you reach Chaohu safely, how many disciples and old subordinates will truly support you? This navy at Chaohu is not a force you yourself raised!”

Lady Golden Flower shot Liu Yi a venomous glare, clearly wishing she could kill this mysterious youth on the spot, but she withdrew her spear tip by a fraction: “I carry an imperial edict with me, and Zhao Pusheng and Li Pusheng at Chaohu are both the mainstays of Great Song. They are absolutely trustworthy!”

Liu Yi had struck at the heart of Lady Golden Flower’s worries. Although she had disciples and former subordinates among the Chaohu fleet, this navy was never truly hers, nor did she have deep ties with them. Besides, how many of her followers would unconditionally pledge themselves to her?

Compared with his ordinary, overtime-laden days, this dance at the edge of life and death awakened something true within Liu Yi: “In times as chaotic as these, the most important thing is strength. What use is a mere imperial edict? If you want one, I’ll write one for you right now!”

As he spoke, Liu Yi stepped forward half a pace. The gleaming spear tip remained pressed to his throat, but he showed no fear. “You said yourself, my lady, that once in Chaohu, anyone who disobeys you will be sent to learn from Master Peng. But, when the time comes, how many will want to send you to Master Peng instead?”

His voice grew louder, his expression more impassioned: “And besides, can Zhao Pusheng and Li Pusheng truly hold the situation together? If they could, why would His Majesty send you to garrison Chaohu in person? If you wish to seize Chaohu, follow me north now!”

Lady Golden Flower knew Liu Yi was likely speaking nonsense, but some inexplicable force compelled her to believe him. She drew back her spear. “I am the Saintess of the Lotus Sect. How could I possibly defect to Liu Futong of the Incense Army? And whether it’s Chaohu or heading north, I am still alone with a single spear!”

Liu Yi, brimming with confidence, pressed on: “My lady, you must have heard the saying, ‘The foreign monk recites scriptures better.’ Precisely because you are the Saintess of the Lotus Sect, heading north is your best choice. We are but pawns casually placed by His Majesty. But up north, Liu Futong, Du Zundao, and Sheng Wenyu would have no choice but to revere you. I am ninety percent confident I can help you take Chaohu!”

Lady Golden Flower’s greatest obstacle was her own uncertainty. “But I am, after all, the Saintess of the Lotus Sect.”

But she also knew Liu Yi’s words rang true. The Great Song was no longer the White Lotus foundation personally established by Peng Zu and Peng Yingyu; what mattered now was territory and strength.

Since her defeat at Xiangyang, people had maintained a basic respect for her, but since she possessed neither land nor power, that respect was merely perfunctory. In the court, she wielded no influence, her presence ornamental at best.

Now that the Great Song had been founded, what people valued were titles like Grand Preceptor, Chancellor, Left and Right Vice-Minister, General-in-Chief, and so on. The once-vaunted “Saintess of the White Lotus” was now a triviality, even a burden.

This time, when Xu Shouhui and Zou Pusheng sent her to Chaohu to clean up the aftermath, it was, as Liu Yi said, no more than a casual move—a pawn that would be nice to succeed with, but whose failure would not upset the larger game. Thus, Ni Manzi had no qualms about hunting her so relentlessly.

Now, Liu Yi delivered his most decisive blow: “Only if I help you conquer Chaohu will you truly be the Saintess of the Lotus Sect. In times of chaos, both strength and territory are indispensable. With those, my lady, you can do as you wish!”

Since her defeat at Xiangyang, Lady Golden Flower had never felt her blood surge like this. She began to believe that Peng Zu’s prophecy was more than idle talk, that this Liu Yi, who had fallen into her life from nowhere, was indeed sent to deliver her message. She hefted her spear. “Very well, I’ll go north with you! But I am still the Saintess of the Lotus Sect, a founding hero of Great Song. Heading north is only to better take command of the Chaohu fleet, not to defect to Liu Futong of the Incense Army!”

As she spoke, a clamor erupted behind them. A dozen Red Turban soldiers had already clambered up the mountain path, now only some eighty or a hundred paces away: “After them! Don’t let them escape! Kill!”

Despite her injuries, Lady Golden Flower felt more alive than ever. She called out to Liu Yi, “We’ll go north together. This time I’ll follow your lead. Quickly, use the Lamp of Everlasting Radiance!”

She had no idea what Liu Yi’s solar-powered flashlight was truly called, so she simply gave it a grand name on the spot.

It was precisely this flashlight and his engineer’s shovel that gave Liu Yi such unruffled composure. The powerful beam of the solar flashlight instantly sowed havoc among the pursuing Red Turbans.

Despite tales that their comrades ahead had fallen to some sorcery, and that Lady Golden Flower was the legendary Dragon Maiden of the White Lotus, the Red Turbans had been in rebellion for five years, had survived countless deadly battles, and no longer believed in her supernatural prowess.

But none of them expected Lady Golden Flower to conjure up a “Lamp of Everlasting Radiance” that instantly blinded them with searing light. Unable to open their eyes, some turned away, others ducked; a few faint-hearted ones simply fled outright. Lady Golden Flower swept her spear through the chaos, felling three men in quick succession, and before the rest could even send a distress signal, the Red Turbans were in total disarray.

Now, the tip of her spear was pressed to the throat of a prisoner. “If you wish to win glory and fortune at my side, then swear it! Or do you prefer to die for Ni Manzi? The Lamp of Everlasting Radiance will consign you to the deepest hell!”

The man was petrified, his soul nearly fleeing his body. He cried out, “I—I am willing to follow Lady Golden Flower to build a great legacy. Please, spare me the Lamp of Everlasting Radiance!”

Another prisoner, kneeling beside him, chimed in, “I—I, Wen Qing, known as Wen Wuyue, also wish to follow you, Lady Golden Flower, in your grand endeavor. I once defended Xiangyang alongside you!”

Had anyone else tried to persuade their surrender, the effect would have been far less. But though Lady Golden Flower was little more than a fixture at the Xu-Song court, her name was famous—everyone knew of her.

Ni Manzi was a Red Turban, and so was Lady Golden Flower. There was no sense in Red Turbans killing their own. If Lady Golden Flower possessed supernatural abilities, it was far better to join her and carve out a future than to die pointlessly in internal strife.

But Lady Golden Flower was merciless: “If you wish to follow me and achieve greatness, then you should know the rules, shouldn’t you?”