Chapter Fifteen: The Disciple of Maitreya (Please Vote)

“Your brother?” Zheng Yanqing stopped in his tracks. Turning to look at Mao Xiaonian, he asked with some confusion, “Isn’t your brother in Shuobei?”

“It’s Brother Ba!” Mao Xiaonian’s face paled slightly; she lowered her delicate head and replied softly.

Brother Ba, Mao Xiaoba?

Yanqing was taken aback. Over the past three years, whether it was the Zheng Shian family or the Mao Wang household, they had all deliberately or inadvertently forgotten about Mao Xiaoba. Zheng Yanqing looked down on Mao Xiaoba—rebellious, yes, and pursuing a better life was understandable, but to disregard one’s own parents for personal gain—could he still be called a human being?

As for the Mao Wang family, they wouldn’t dare mention Mao Xiaoba’s name in front of the Zheng Shian elders.

Over time, Yanqing had nearly forgotten that such a person even existed... Mao Xiaonian’s sudden mention caught him off guard. But once he processed it, a surge of anger welled up within him.

“Where did you see Mao Xiaoba?”

Yanqing seemed to understand why Mao Xiaonian had been distracted yesterday and why Mao Wang had gone to the city early this morning—it was likely to visit Mao Xiaoba.

“I...” Xiaonian’s heart trembled. She suddenly knelt down, sobbing softly, “Yesterday, we were shopping in the city. By chance, I saw someone from behind who looked very much like Brother Ba. But there were too many people, and we lost him... My father went into the city early today, to the same place where we saw Brother Ba. But he didn’t find him; he only heard that a white-robed Maitreya was there yesterday, distributing talisman medicines.”

“So, you can’t be sure that person was really your Brother Ba?”

“No, Xiaonian is certain!” Xiaonian lifted her head, speaking through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t have mistaken it—the way that person walked was exactly like Brother Ba’s.”

Zheng Yanqing sat down at the stairwell, staring silently at Mao Xiaonian.

“Xiaonian, why did you tell me this?”

Mao Xiaonian hesitated, then whispered, “Sir, you don’t know—though Father and Mother have hated him deeply these past three years, they still think of him often. Father misses him… Since yesterday, he’s been agitated. When he came back today, he even discussed with Mother about worshipping Maitreya, saying that if they worship Maitreya, they could see him.”

Blood is thicker than water. No matter what Mao Xiaoba had done, he was still the flesh and blood of the Mao Wang couple.

A son might disregard his parents’ lives, but parents could never stop yearning for their child. Zheng Yanqing understood the feelings of the Mao Wang couple and also grasped Mao Xiaonian’s current thoughts. This little girl likely held no affection for the brother who had nearly destroyed their family.

However, Zheng Yanqing was more intrigued by Mao Xiaonian’s mention of “Maitreya.”

The white-robed Maitreya—has he returned?

During the fourth year of Renshou, the white-robed Maitreya who had been active in Luoyang suddenly vanished without a trace.

That same year, Yang Guang ascended the throne and ordered renovations in Luoyang... The white-robed Maitreya disappeared before Yang Guang’s ascension, but Yang Guang’s plans to rebuild Luoyang had appeared before the Maitreya’s disappearance. Could there be an underlying connection?

Now, Emperor Yang of Sui is renovating the Tongji Canal, causing a large number of displaced people to appear.

The white-robed Maitreya has suddenly reemerged in Luoyang—might there be some hidden, unspeakable purpose behind this?

The more Zheng Yanqing thought about it, the more suspicious he became.

Mao Xiaoba had once joined the white-robed Maitreya, and now he was back in Luoyang—wouldn’t he be afraid of revealing his identity?

Luoyang was where he was born and raised.

Even after three years, though his appearance might have changed, someone would surely recognize him. Was Mao Xiaoba not afraid?

A string of questions flooded Zheng Yanqing’s mind, making him feel there was much more to this story.

He stood and paced inside the room.

“Xiaonian.”

“Hmm?”

“Your father said he wants to worship Maitreya?”

Xiaonian nodded. “Father went to the city today. People said that on the first and fifteenth day of the lunar month, someone holds a ceremony to distribute talisman water. But without believing in Maitreya, you can’t participate. Father and Mother both want to see him, so they are tempted.”

“What does it mean to worship Maitreya?”

“Father asked—they said you must have a guide to be considered a disciple of Maitreya.”

“A disciple of Maitreya?”

Xiaonian explained, “That’s what they say. You must be introduced by a guide to join, only then are you counted as a disciple.”

Zheng Yanqing was now even more certain that the white-robed Maitreya was a cult.

After pondering for a moment, he asked, “Xiaonian, do you believe in it?”

“Maitreya?” Mao Xiaonian shook her head. “No! When we were driven out of the estate, starving and cold, and my older siblings ran off with the Western traders seeking a way out, where was Maitreya to help us? If Maitreya really existed, then the old master and the young master would be Maitreya!”

Zheng Yanqing was stunned, staring at Mao Xiaonian with a smile on his face.

He stepped forward and helped her up. “Why did you tell me all this?”

“I... I’m worried you might misunderstand us and drive us away... Actually, Father and Mother don’t believe in Maitreya either, but they want to meet that person. I tried to persuade them, but I had no ideas, so I wanted to ask you to think of a good plan...”

Zheng Yanqing scratched his head and sighed.

It was only natural for the Mao Wang couple to want to see their son. What could he do to stop them?

“Xiaonian, remember, there is no such thing as Maitreya. You must never believe in it.”

“I don’t believe, except for the old master and the young master, I won’t believe anyone else.”

“Your parents miss your brother. That’s understandable.

Even if we manage to stop them today, we can’t guarantee they won’t sneak off tomorrow.

Xiaonian, I have a task for you.”

“Yes, sir! Please command!”

“If your parents insist on going, you follow them.”

“Huh?”

“You need to help me uncover the habits of that white-robed Maitreya and their specific situation in Luoyang.

For example, where they usually distribute talismans, what they do daily... If anything happens, report to me immediately. But don’t take risks, don’t act alone, and don’t trust their words. Can you do that?”

Mao Xiaonian nodded firmly. “I can!”

“Good... Remember, don’t show any signs of suspicion. What I tell you today, don’t even tell your parents.”

With that, he left.

A moment later, he returned, holding the green pearl dagger, and placed it in Mao Xiaonian’s hand.

“Watch your parents carefully, don’t let them get too deeply involved. If you find any trace of that person, report to me at once. Listen, this matter concerns all our safety. Be careful—very, very careful!”

Mao Xiaonian nodded vigorously.

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In truth, if Yanqing’s target weren’t so obvious, he would prefer to handle this personally.

There was a strange feeling that he would come into contact with those white-robed Maitreya members. But what kind of encounter would it be?

He couldn’t quite say.

The next day, Zheng Yanqing and Shen Guang visited the Dou family again.

Dou Wei prepared all the horses at home, and Shen Guang selected six excellent horses for the competition.

With these six horses, Zheng Yanqing finally had a foundation.

As for training the horses, Shen Guang would take care of it; Yanqing need not worry.

After thanking Dou Wei, Yanqing and Shen Guang returned to the Bamboo Garden with the horses.

Watching the horses enter the stable, Yanqing breathed a sigh of relief.

Next, he had to find a way to gather eight people.

But Yanqing knew well, gathering eight people wouldn’t be easy.

Ordinary people likely didn’t know how to play jiju; those who did might risk offending Maizizhong. This wasn’t a matter money could solve—if a family could afford a skilled jiju player, they wouldn’t be lacking money. If money couldn’t solve it, that would be a real headache.

That afternoon, Zheng Yanqing practiced alone by the Yishui River.

Mounted on horseback, he shifted left and right, rehearsing basic jiju movements.

On the open ground, a row of wooden balls was set up. The jiju stick struck the wooden balls with a hollow clack, sending them flying and landing on the ground.

Jiju wasn’t just about striking the ball; it involved skillful control of force.

Shen Guang advised Yanqing that it was impossible to master all the jiju techniques in fifty days. Since he couldn’t learn them all, he should focus on mastering one skill—precision striking.

The coordination between rider and horse was fundamental.

Each team also had a striker—the one who scored the final hit—like a forward in later soccer.

Shen Guang suggested Yanqing play the striker role. Once the match began, his teammates would create scoring opportunities, and Yanqing only had to put the ball in the goal.

Xu Shiji also agreed with Shen Guang’s plan.

Thus, Yanqing’s practice focused on that final strike, controlling the ball’s direction and distance. It required relentless effort; there were no shortcuts.

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It sounded simple in theory.

But when he began practicing, Yanqing realized how difficult it truly was.

After a full day of practice, his entire body felt disjointed. Lying on his bed, he had no desire to move. Fortunately, the health guidance techniques taught by Sun Simiao greatly helped him. Doing them before sleep allowed him to recover by the next day. Additionally, Wang Zheng ensured Mao Sao adjusted his diet.

It was simple—meat at every meal.

Thus, playing polo was truly a luxury beyond the reach of ordinary families. Not to mention, just the cost of mutton and beef could break a common household in less than a month.

After ten days, Yanqing’s body grew stronger.

One day, after practice by the riverbank, Yanqing rode home.

Entering the bamboo grove, he sensed something was off.

Outside the bamboo tower stood a carriage and more than a dozen horses. Among them was a fiery red horse, its coat gleaming like silk in the sunlight.

Yanqing recognized it—this was Pei Xingyan’s blazing coal-fire dragon colt.

Just as Yanqing reined in to dismount, Pei Xingyan rushed out from the bamboo tower, his face bright with a broad smile.

Today, Pei Xingyan wore a new outfit—a bright red battle robe, white inside and red outside, looking especially spirited.

“Zheng Yanqing, you’ve finally returned!”

Yanqing jumped down from his horse and stepped forward, puzzled. “Young Master Pei, what brings you here?”

“No more of this ‘Young Master’ business. From today on, we fight side by side. I’ve asked around—you’re younger than me, so either call me brother or Yuanqing, whichever you prefer. Come, come, let me introduce you to two friends.”

Pei Xingyan’s other name was Yuanqing?

Heh, Pei Yuanqing... Suddenly, Yanqing stumbled and stopped short, staring at Pei Xingyan in surprise.

“You’re called Pei Yuanqing?”

“Ha, strange, isn’t it?” Pei Xingyan laughed. “Yuanqing was my childhood name, given by my mother. Later, my father thought it wasn’t grand enough, and since I belong to the Xing generation according to the genealogy, he changed my name to Pei Xingyan.”

In his mind flashed the third hero from the Sui-Tang hero chronicles—Pei Yuanqing.

Until now, Zheng Yanqing hadn’t connected Pei Xingyan with Pei Yuanqing. He had some impression of Pei Renji, but knowing Pei Renji had only one son, Pei Xingyan, he hadn’t thought further.

Pei Xingyan’s strength was great as he pulled Zheng Yanqing toward the bamboo tower.

At this moment, Yanqing wanted to ask: What weapon do you use? Is it the plum blossom silver hammer?

But he knew when to hold back and didn’t ask such a childish question.

“Brother Pei, you mentioned fighting alongside me—what do you mean?”

“Aren’t you supposed to play jiju with Maizizhong? Heh, honestly, you’re not very nice—such an interesting event, and you didn’t invite me! I’ve long disliked that guy, but my father wouldn’t let me confront him, so I let him run wild... Heh, now’s my chance. I’m going to teach Maizizhong a good lesson.”

“Huh?”

Zheng Yanqing was first stunned, then secretly delighted.

“Brother Pei, this has nothing to do with you. Don’t make enemies with the Mai family just to help me.”

“How can it have nothing to do with me? You made a bet with Maizizhong because of my sister, didn’t you? I’m telling you, my sister admires you very much, so it’s okay if you lose to anyone—but not to that guy. I came here with my father’s approval... Heh, I even brought my gear. When the time comes, we’ll teach Maizizhong a lesson.”

Pei Cuiyun admires me?

That phrase could be interpreted in countless ways...

Still, Yanqing sensed that Pei Xingyan bore a grudge against Maizizhong. Normally, since Maizizhong liked Pei Cuiyun, he wouldn’t want to offend Pei Xingyan. So why did Pei Xingyan grit his teeth whenever Maizizhong was mentioned?

Puzzled, Yanqing followed Pei Xingyan into the bamboo tower.

Inside the main hall, Xu Shiji was warmly conversing with two teenagers.

Seeing Pei Xingyan lead Zheng Yanqing in, the two youths stood up simultaneously.

They looked about fifteen or sixteen—one tall and slender, the other short and round-faced.

The taller youth stepped forward and saluted, “Xuedong Xue Shou greets Ban Yuanjun.”

The shorter youth added, “Underling Taishan Yao Yi, hearing that Ban Yuanjun made an appointment with Maizizhong for jiju, has come to assist.”

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The monthly votes are so dismal; spare some, please, to motivate the old writer a bit more!!!!!!!!!