Chapter Seventeen: The Three Scriptures of the Sacred Flame

“Ah!?”

Mrs. Hu exclaimed in surprise.

Hu Changshan’s eyes widened as well.

An Xin produced his identification token—an ivory identity tag—distinctly different from the common paper credentials of ordinary people.

At once, both of them became restless, rising to their feet and preparing to kowtow.

“Brother Changshan, Auntie, please rise and be seated,” An Xin said, gently restraining them. “At noon, when I heard Auntie’s words, I already admired Brother Changshan’s character greatly. Hearing about someone is not the same as meeting them; meeting you surpasses what I had heard.

“Firstly, Brother Changshan is a man of pure filial piety, whose conduct is commendable.

“Secondly, Brother Changshan’s martial skills are impressive. It would be a waste to have you serve as an ordinary constable, squandering your talents.

“Auntie, what if Brother Changshan stays by my side to work? I assure you, he will have a promising future.”

“Oh dear!”

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Hu was deeply moved and slapped Hu Changshan on the cheek. “Still not kneeling to kowtow? The magistrate is now your master!”

Hu Changshan, sturdy as an iron tower, knelt down with the weight of mountains and pillars.

This time, An Xin did not stop him, allowing the kowtow to solidify their bond of master and servant.

An Xin knew this man’s character well, had the authority of his mother as a constraint, and recognized his formidable martial skills and worldly experience from traveling far and wide. Employing him would be reassuring and convenient—a valuable aide indeed.

“From now on, stay by my side to learn and train. Once you have the skills to handle affairs, securing an official position will be no difficulty,” An Xin promised casually.

Hu Changshan and his mother were overjoyed upon hearing this.

After leaving, An Xin intentionally gave Hu Changshan and his mother a moment alone.

“My son, this is a great opportunity. To be favored by the county magistrate and serve by his side, you must be loyal! Be alert and diligent in serving your master!” Mrs. Hu adjusted his collar and admonished him.

“Mother, I will remember. I will surely repay the magistrate’s kindness in giving me this chance.”

In this era, equality was a foreign concept.

To receive such favor was often repaid with one’s life, a truth common even in later times.

Having faced many setbacks after training, An Xin’s appreciation and opportunity were all the more precious to Hu Changshan, stirring deep gratitude and excitement within him.

Soon, while An Xin was playing with the village dog Da Huang outside the fenced courtyard, he saw Hu Changshan emerge, freshly washed and groomed, his large beard neatly combed, looking much more presentable.

“Master.”

Since the master-servant relationship was acknowledged, his demeanor changed accordingly—respectful and solemn.

An Xin patted his arm, “Good, you look spirited.”

Then he clasped his fists toward Mrs. Hu. “Auntie, these first few days after taking office will surely be busy. Once things settle, I’ll send Changshan home for a visit.”

“You are too polite, Master!”

Mrs. Hu waved her hands repeatedly. “It is Changshan’s blessing to be chosen by you. If there is anything you need, just say the word. As an old woman, I have no pressing matters; no need to trouble yourself to come see me.”

An Xin smiled at her words. “Auntie, I bid you farewell.”

Under Mrs. Hu’s watchful gaze, they left the small courtyard and headed toward the Chang household.

The Zhou De’lu residence was the only blue-brick compound in the village, with the plaque “Zhou Residence” hanging prominently over the gate—an unmistakable mark of prestige.

“Ah!”

“Howl~!”

“Get away!”

“I’ll kill you!”

As they entered, a chorus of agonized screams and howls reached their ears.

Inside, Ma Er was stripped naked, his shame trampled under the boot of a constable.

An Xin looked away, unable to bear the sight.

“Hey, if Ma Er became a ‘rabbit lord’—a term for a certain kind of captive—he might earn a fortune daily.”

“You were once a beauty, why turn to thievery?”

Ma Er, seeing An Xin and Hu Changshan, closed his eyes, tears of humiliation streaming down his face.

“This man has good martial skills. Bind him tightly; don’t let him escape.”

A man with a goat-like beard emerged from the side courtyard.

Dressed in loose Taoist robes, carrying a whisk on his back, his ruddy complexion gave him an ethereal, almost immortal aura.

His face bore a gentle, springlike smile, exuding warmth and approachability.

“Ah, it’s Master Yuan.”

The constable saluted respectfully upon seeing him, helped Ma Er pull up his trousers, and tightened the oil-soaked coarse hemp rope binding him.

“Are you the two brave men who caught this lecherous thief?”

Master Yuan approached and bowed deeply.

“That’s right. Sir, your courtesy is appreciated.”

An Xin looked at Master Yuan, unsure of his status. He clearly resided in Zhou De’lu’s guesthouse, yet was treated with considerable respect by the constables.

“I am a humble Taoist from Jian’an Province, currently staying at Brother Zhou’s residence, teaching scriptures to an elderly lady. Have the brave men heard of the Three Scriptures of the Sacred Fire?”

Master Yuan spoke familiarly.

“No, we have not.”

An Xin shook his head. Hu Changshan hesitated, then An Xin inquired, “Changshan, have you heard of it?”

Hu Changshan nodded. “Master, when I studied martial arts in Bozhou, I heard of the Three Scriptures of the Sacred Fire: the Fire Tribulation Reincarnation Scripture, the Three Yuan Scripture of the Sacred Fire, and the Scripture of Five Woes and Seven Calamities. They emphasize calming the mind, burning away desires, and severing karma.”

“Correct. Our Sacred Fire Sect preaches in the south, but knowledge is scarce in the north. The world faces three Yang calamities: the Green Yang, Red Yang, and White Yang calamities. Only those who receive the three scriptures may cultivate discipline amid the fiery household, burning away worldly sins with the sacred fire, to welcome the White Yang Sacred Era. After death, souls return to the world of light, seated on the ‘Lotus of Radiance.’”

The moment Master Yuan spoke, his tone reeked of a charlatan!

An Xin immediately lowered his gaze, concealing his instinctive suspicion and wariness. “I see. As Confucius said, ‘If one does not understand life, how can one understand death?’ This life is not yet lived clearly; the teachings remain unstudied, and worldly desires unfulfilled. I have yet to understand the doctrines of your esteemed sect.”

“No matter. Our teachings are the true path to salvation and deliverance. If there is opportunity, I shall discuss them with you further.”

Master Yuan waved his hand, bowed, and departed leisurely.

After he left, An Xin asked Hu Changshan, “Changshan, do you understand the doctrines of the Sacred Fire Sect?”

Hu Changshan nodded. “When I practiced martial arts in Bozhou, I heard people say the common folk suffer five hardships: government taxes, oppression by the powerful, natural disasters and famine, illness, and torment after death. Through purifying the mind, burning desires, and severing karma, one attains liberation...”

At first glance, the theory seemed unremarkable and had a popular base, teaching people to endure worldly suffering through spiritual cultivation, seeking great liberation and bliss after death.

In fact, it encouraged patience and numbness, using present hardships as a form of practice to pursue a better afterlife.

From this perspective, to the feudal court, it was a stabilizing and pacifying doctrine.

Yet, combined with Master Yuan’s mention of the Three Yang calamities, an eerie undertone emerged.

The Three Yang calamities were not a simple belief in the afterlife. If the Sacred Fire Sect’s leader, claiming to be the reincarnation of the Fire God or the Great Light King, were to rally followers with cries of “Break the Red Yang, Welcome the White Yang,” the sect’s influence might quickly spark a massive peasant uprising in southern Great Yan.

The south, historically fertile and the breadbasket of Great Yan.

This thought sent a chill down An Xin’s spine.

Of course, perhaps from years of drafting reports, An Xin liked to analyze matters from multiple angles to find different inspirations and interpretations. Whether this sect intended rebellion was uncertain until it revealed any sign.

“Senior An, what brings you here!”

At that moment, several people entered the gate—Zhou De’lu had returned with others.

“We just caught a petty thief with Changshan and were heading back to the city.”

An Xin, noticing a dozen or so ragged figures outside, asked curiously, “Who are these people?”

“Hmph, they’re conscripted laborers for repairing the city walls.”

Zhou De’lu took out a roster, circling the names of those conscripted laborers, and handed it to the county clerk.

“But harvest is not yet over. Conscripting labor now will disrupt the farming season,” An Xin remarked.

These laborers were not Zhou De’lu’s tenants but registered self-sufficient or semi-self-sufficient farmers in the official household registers. Taking away a strong worker at this time could indeed devastate a family.

Zhou De’lu opened his mouth, hesitating to speak.

The lead clerk, however, was blunt and scolded him, “What do you know? This is a matter personally overseen by our magistrate. If the city walls crumble and we are invaded by Japanese pirates, how will we defend ourselves?”