Chapter Twenty-Five: Ran Muto

Chapter Twenty-Five: Lan Mutou

Wu Songran, still groggy, was jolted awake by the blood-curdling screams of several young men. He discovered he was completely naked.

“What on earth happened?” Wu Songran hurriedly grabbed the disheveled clothes beside him, but no one answered. The other men, previously silent, had erupted into frenzied cries, as if their minds were shattered—some seemed on the verge of madness.

“Can someone tell me what happened?” Though Wu Songran shouted sharply, he soon checked himself for injury, finding nothing amiss below his waist. Despite being stripped bare, he remained the calmest among them.

Xiao Fei, the young priest, and the youth in golden armor continued their wild screaming, ignoring his questions and his nakedness entirely.

In his anger, Wu Songran flicked several concealed weapons, which embedded themselves in the arms and thighs of the youths. Yet even with wounds, they did not retaliate, only howled more wildly.

“Damn it, have you all gone insane?” Wu Songran, moving from terror to a cold composure as he witnessed their madness, noticed Wang Liang naked in the corner. Suddenly his eyes widened—the area below Wang Liang’s waist was unnaturally smooth, devoid of any sign of manhood.

He glanced at the other crazed companions and shuddered, his voice trembling. “Wang Liang, what happened?”

Wang Liang, hearing Wu Songran, seemed to return from the dead. His face twisted into something more terrible than a demon from hell. “This is all Wu Hong’s doing!”

“Wu Hong—” The name struck Wu Songran like a lightning bolt. Rage and panic nearly made him faint. His gaze swept over the scraps of cloth on the floor. A cold light flashed in his eyes as he crouched to pick them up, his arms trembling.

“Wu Hong—I’ll kill you!” Wu Songran and the other youths began to roar with fury. The young priest and Xiao Fei were so enraged they spat blood and fainted.

Unaware of the chaos at the thatched inn, Wu Hong continued his journey toward Mount Wuyi. He traveled swiftly, braving wind and dew, resting neither day nor night, ceaselessly practicing the Sun Tathagata Sutra along the way. He encountered many impoverished souls and offered aid whenever possible.

None of those he helped knew his real name. Wu Hong was wanted throughout the Great Qian Dynasty. Fortunately, he had purchased a metal mask to conceal his face, preventing others from turning him in for a reward.

Wu Hong noticed that each time he performed a good deed or lent assistance, the “Altruism” passage of the Sun Tathagata Sutra would shine brighter. A warm current would flow through him, filling him with joy. This suited his nature perfectly—he had always been compassionate, and now, doing good increased his cultivation. Why would he not continue?

His wanted posters were distributed nationwide. Wu Hong’s appearance was distinctive: emaciated and sallow-faced. If he ever revealed his true face, he would be remembered instantly by anyone who saw him.

In the distance, Yunluo City resembled a colossal ancient beast—its walls a hundred meters high, its gates like monstrous jaws, nestled beneath towering mountains as if sleeping with the sky as its blanket.

Wu Hong was awed—he had not expected such a magnificent city to exist in this remote borderland.

At the city gate, two lines of soldiers were inspecting everyone who entered.

A large wanted poster hung beside the gate, and Wu Hong saw it clearly from afar. As he hesitated, a procession of richly dressed people stopped before him, carrying a sedan chair.

A delicate woman descended from the chair and approached Wu Hong with a graceful bow. “Are you the benefactor?”

Wu Hong was startled. He recognized the servants—this was the group he had aided in the wilderness yesterday, driving off a band of beggars who had beset them. The lady must have glimpsed him as he left, hence her recognition.

“Please, miss, there’s no need for thanks. Anyone with a conscience would have helped.”

“Benefactor, you are too modest. In these chaotic times, having someone as kind as you is a blessing. Why do you hesitate at the city gate?”

Though her appearance was ordinary, her figure was voluptuous and her manner gentle, her breath fragrant and her voice soft. Any man who heard her would feel his bones melt, which explained why the beggars had intended to rob her—they must have long eyed this lady in the sedan.

“Thank you for your concern, miss. You see those soldiers at the gate? I wear this mask because my face was ruined in childhood. Their thorough inspections make it difficult for me to enter—I think I’ll try again tonight.”

Wu Hong turned to leave, planning to sneak in after dark.

“Benefactor, wait! My sedan is spacious—why not hide inside?”

Her voice was enchanting, stirring emotions in Wu Hong’s heart.

He blushed. “Is it appropriate?”

The lady smiled knowingly at his embarrassment. “Benefactor, you saved my life—this is but a small favor.”

Wu Hong, unable to refuse, entered the sedan chair.

The lady thought, “He seems young, but his manners are refined—surely from a noble family. Why does he wear a metal mask every day?”

She joined him inside; the space was ample, and they were not crowded. Her faint feminine fragrance drifted into Wu Hong’s nostrils. Though the Sun Tathagata Sutra had calmed his youthful restlessness, he was still a man—sitting beside a strange woman made him nervous.

Noticing his stiffness, she covered her lips and laughed softly, her voice like a spell in Wu Hong’s ears.

A surge of nameless desire rose in him, making him shudder. How could this seemingly plain woman possess such power with every smile and gesture? He closed his eyes, and a holy golden glow shimmered over his skin.

Wu Hong was unaware that the subtle golden aura he emitted was irresistibly attractive to women.

His chest grew warm—he knew it was the effect of the Sun Tathagata Sutra. He took out the sutra, opened it, and saw the last page: “Those who shine with joy are the greatest good.” The words glowed with radiant gold, illuminating the entire sedan.

Wu Hong was puzzled. What did “shine with joy” mean? When he met Wu Songran and Li Ruolan, the sutra had also glowed faintly. Now, with this temptress, it shone again—what could it signify?

“Sir, what are you reading? You haven’t asked my name—that is my fault. I am Lan Mutou.”

The surname Wu was common in the Great Qian Dynasty; hearing her name, Wu Hong was not surprised.

But seeing her blush, Wu Hong felt his mouth water and his heart pound audibly, the rhythm clear within the sedan.

Lan Mutou’s face was rosy like dew-drenched roses. Hearing his heartbeat, she closed her eyes, her lips parted as if awaiting a lover’s first kiss.

Though Wu Hong held the Sun Tathagata Sutra, to Lan Mutou he seemed to be cradling nothing, lost in thought.

Seeing her shyly close her eyes, any man would know her intent. Wu Hong gazed at the glowing words, desire surging within him.

His slender arm, almost without thinking, wrapped around Lan Mutou’s delicate shoulder. Instantly, his blood boiled.

His mask left his mouth, nose, and eyes exposed. He gently kissed Lan Mutou’s red lips, and she stiffened as if struck by lightning, then softened, half reclining in his arms.

The golden glow around Wu Hong blazed. The words “shine with joy” on the last page of the sutra flashed brightly, then faded.

Two strangers, who had met only once, began to explore each other in the sedan, their breathing tangled and chaotic. Whenever Wu Hong touched Lan Mutou’s sensitive spots, she would let out a soft moan, fueling his passion until he could barely restrain himself from going further.

“Stop the sedan! Inspection!” A strange voice rang out from outside—they had reached the city gate, and the soldiers were calling for a halt.

Wu Hong cursed inwardly—what terrible timing! He was also shocked at his own loss of control. Was he truly so lustful that he desired every attractive woman he met?

“Sir, do not worry—hide beneath my seat!” Lan Mutou’s pale face was flushed deep red.

Wu Hong didn’t hesitate and slipped under Lan Mutou’s seat.