A Pawn's Passage-Chapter 727: Five Fingers

Inside a room at the Taiping Inn branch, Yao Pei shut the windows and doors tightly before she studied a sheet of ciphered text.

At this moment, the usual dullness in Yao Pei’s expression was gone. Her shimmering eyes narrowed slightly, with a sharp glint flickering in her gaze.

The Taishang Emotionless Sutra was part of Heavenly Calculation, and its practitioners normally had photographic memory. Yao Pei had already memorized the entirety of Annotations on the Holy Xuan and could translate the cipher directly in her mind without needing any reference.

Like Qi Xuansu’s cipher sheet, the first line had just three words: Anchor the Monkey.

The second line mentioned the Buddha, with added notes like Five Fingers, Ananda, and Kassapa.

The third line prominently listed the new five-person team: Thumb—classified, Index Finger—Zhou Jiaoxian, Middle Finger—Qi Xuansu, Ring Finger—Zhang Yuelu, Pinky—Yao Pei.

Yao Pei had long known about the plan of reconstructing the five-person team before arriving in the Imperial Capital, so she was not surprised. In both circumstances, she and Zhang Yuelu were always fixed members. That part made little difference.

As for the ranking among the Five Fingers, Yao Pei had no objections, nor did she care. At present, Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu were indeed more critical, as they both linked to other allied forces. So it was reasonable for them to take precedence. What intrigued her more was the Thumb’s identity. It was so secret that even she was not privy to this information.

This level of classified secrecy was less about security and more about taboo—things that should not be spoken of or leave any trace.

Naturally, Yao Pei would not go questioning her master, Sage Donghua. There was definitely a reason why he did not want her to know, so asking would be pointless.

Yao Pei continued reading.

Next came her specific duties.

Unlike Qi Xuansu’s role as the central coordinator, Yao Pei’s task was deceptively simple. She was to keep an eye on Li Changge and, ideally, force a mutual stalemate. In other words, if she could ensure Li Changge accomplished nothing, her mission would be complete. That was why Zhang Yuelu had asked her to restrain Li Changge and why Yao Pei had readily agreed.

Through this, Yao Pei had to admit one fact. She and Li Changge were on unequal footing, whether in cultivation level or in the forces they could command.

In terms of cultivation, the advantages of a manmade Banished Immortal before reaching immortality were simply too great. Yet Yao Pei was not disheartened. Once she achieved immortality, Li Changge’s shortcut to the heavens would become a dead-end path, and when that day came, the balance of power would shift.

The key issue now was in the forces they commanded. Unlike Jinling, which sat at the crossroads of three sects, the Imperial Capital was practically home turf for the Taiping Sect. The Li family had infiltrated the Imperial Court for years; their influence strengthened with intermarriages and alliances of interests. Normally, the powerhouses of the Li family would not yield to one another, but Li Changge’s status allowed him to temporarily unite them, giving him power far beyond what an outsider like Yao Pei could hope to command.

So while the mission sounded simple, accomplishing it was extremely difficult.

In this regard, Sage Donghua was not going easy on his disciple and niece. He clearly intended this as a test.

Without any visible movement, the ciphered sheet in Yao Pei’s hand crumbled to dust.

Yao Pei walked to the window, pushed it open, and gazed out at the Penglai Pool, lost in thought.

Elsewhere, Zhang Yuelu also received her copy of the encrypted message.

Like Qi Xuansu, she had to reference the Annotations on the Holy Xuan. Even Elder Sun Hewu had never finished reading it. Few in the Daoist Order had because after the fifth-generation Grand Master ascended, the current three Deputy Grand Masters deliberately downplayed the book’s existence. Over time, it became a quasi-taboo. No one could point to a specific law it violated, nor had anyone been punished for reading it. However, everyone had a tacit understanding that they should not openly mention it. But the reason for that was for each person to ponder.

As the Heavenly Preceptor’s grandniece and the Earthly Preceptor’s favored junior, Zhang Yuelu was not afraid of taboos. But she was not interested in spending her limited time reading the endless Confucian and Daoist classics, not to mention this restricted book.

As such, this was Zhang Yuelu’s first time reading Annotations on the Holy Xuan.

She had only intended to skim through it before decoding the cipher, but once she started, she unintentionally became immersed in the ideologies. She found that many of the fifth-generation Grand Master’s ideas mirrored her own, only with greater clarity and deeper insight.

Zhang Yuelu murmured to herself, “If only the sixth-generation Grand Master had continued the fifth-generation Grand Master’s policies, the Daoist Order wouldn’t be in this sorry state. What a pity...”

However, she abruptly stopped this train of thought.

Upon deeper reflection, who had overturned the fifth-generation Grand Master’s decisions? It was not the sixth-generation Grand Master, but the current three Deputy Grand Masters—the Heavenly Preceptor, the Earthly Preceptor, and the Imperial Preceptor.

Although they now opposed each other, they had once been close allies.

It was even hard to accuse them of misrule. To many, the three Deputy Grand Masters were actually restoring order, with countless Daoists behind them who had seen their own interests harmed.

Zhang Yuelu naturally understood this reasoning. Yet those Daoists whose interests were harmed by the fifth-generation Grand Master ended up harming the Daoist Order itself.

Young people were always passionate. Many, like Zhang Yuelu, were discontent with the current state, so they were determined to save the Daoist Order. Thus, they were collectively known as the young progressives. Su Ran was an extremely radical member, while Su Li was a more moderate one.

This was the internal struggle between the old and the young, hidden beneath the more apparent conflict between the three sects. Led by the eighth-generation disciples, the young progressives were gradually stepping onto the stage, making the Daoist Order’s internal battles all the more tangled. It was increasingly hard to differentiate friend from foe.

Zhang Yuelu refocused, setting aside Annotations on the Holy Xuan, and began decoding the cipher.

Next to the cipher’s original text, her delicate, tiny script quickly filled another sheet of paper, line after line.

The first line prominently read the same three words: Anchor the Monkey.

The second line: Buddha, Ananda, Kassapa.

The third line: Five Fingers.

Zhang Yuelu’s expression gradually turned solemn.

She had not been informed in advance about the reformation of the five-person team, but based on her master’s many hints, she had already suspected it, so she was not too surprised.

Since Zhang Yuelu was not part of the Quanzhen Sect, the identity of the Index Finger was not marked. But based on her own deduction, she guessed that it was likely Zhou Jiaoxian, the Chief Deputy Mansion Master of the Imperial Capital Daoist Mansion. After all, he was a Quanzhen Sect disciple. With Shi Bingyun restraining Li Ruoshui, only his forces remained in the Daoist Mansion’s three-way balance of power. So it was not hard to guess.

Like Yao Pei, she was also curious as to who the mysterious Thumb was?

Without question, among the Buddha’s Five Fingers, the Thumb was the absolute linchpin in suppressing the Monkey. Without it, even with no external interference, the four of them alone would stand little chance against the fully gestated Monkey. freewebnσvel.cøm

After all, the Monkey was rumored to be the second Sakka, a manmade Immortal. Once fully refined, it would become a uniquely formidable mind cultivator at the Immortal level.

Yet even Yao Pei, as Sage Donghua’s own disciple, could not guess the Thumb’s identity. So naturally, Zhang Yuelu, who was another layer removed, stood even less of a chance.

Zhang Yuelu could only set her curiosity aside and continue reading the cipher, which mentioned her specific assignment.

Qi Xuansu would serve as central coordinator, Yao Pei would focus only on restraining Li Changge, and if everything went as expected, Zhou Jiaoxian would leverage his official authority to mobilize part of the Imperial Capital Daoist Mansion’s power. If needed, he would even personally enter the fray.

Zhang Yuelu’s mission complemented Qi Xuansu’s shortcomings. She was tasked with liaising with the Ziguang Society.

Qi Xuansu was in charge of liaising with the Qingping Society because Madam Qi was his adoptive mother and an A-rank member. As such, he was able to communicate with her directly with no barriers between them and no fear of misunderstanding.

Similarly, someone needed to liaise with the Ziguang Society. Sending an unfamiliar face would risk delays, suspicions, or costly mistakes. So it was far better to have a member of the Zhang family handle this task.

There were not many Zhang family members in the Imperial Capital, and the few who were there were not core figures, so they were unfit for such a critical task. That made Zhang Yuelu the most suitable candidate.

Originally, Zhang Yuyue, as the daughter of the Zhang family’s main branch, would have been a better choice. But that was only if she were capable. This was a regret among many Zhang family elders. After all, the Li and Yao families had direct heirs shouldering great burdens, while their Zhang family’s direct heirs were outshone by a daughter from a minor branch.

Seeing this assignment, Zhang Yuelu was slightly stunned.

Having the Deputy Hall Master of Tiangang Hall liaise with a secret society seemed like a mockery of the entire Daoist Order. But on closer thought, it made sense.

The Daoist Order’s approach to secret societies had never been purely extermination. Recruitment was always on the table.

Since the time of the Holy Xuan, the Zhengyi Sect had overseen matters related to ghosts and gods, making it the sect that was most deeply connected to the Ancient Immortals. Not to mention, Zhang Wushou and Zhang Wuhen carried the bloodline of True Lord Ziguang. The once-dominant True Lord Taiyin had also been personally recruited by the only non-Zhang Heavenly Preceptor, Yan Feiqing.

Among the three surviving secret societies, Ziguang Society was the only one without blood debts, the least tainted by crime, and the most likely to be recruited.

If the day ever came when the Daoist Order was stretched too thin to fight on all fronts and needed to recruit Ziguang Society to ease the pressure, it might very well require a Zhang family envoy.

Once the perspective rose to encompass the entire Daoist Order and the whole realm, simple notions of good and evil no longer sufficed.

Zhang Yuelu understood this truth.

That was why she had not opposed Qi Xuansu keeping Lin Yuanmiao by his side. The reason was simple. If she accepted the Heavenly Preceptor’s murky dealings with the Ziguang Society, she could not apply double standards to Qi Xuansu. Otherwise, she would be considered a petty hypocrite.

Zhang Yuelu had always held herself to one principle. She did not have to be a saint, nor a traditionally defined good person, but she must not be a petty villain.

Yet now, facing the moment when she would personally engage with the Ziguang Society, she still found it all a bit strange.

She had interacted with secret societies many times before, but mainly to capture and arrest them. This would be her first time sitting down to negotiate terms with them.