The Japanese soldiers were firing steadily into the woods behind the cover of their trucks before beginning an orderly retreat. Luo Jiang did not dare to pursue too closely; although he had reached the Qi Refining 3rd Layer, his physical body was still no match for bullets.
He was in no rush. They were still several miles from Beiping City, and the terrain ahead was nothing but open plains. If the Japanese tried to flee across the plains, they would be sitting ducks.
Just as he picked off another soldier, a series of screams erupted from behind the trucks. "Oh no! We're being flanked! Take him out! Ah—" The voice was cut short by another cry of agony.
A few minutes later, the screaming ceased. From behind the trucks came the sound of a Buddhist chant: "Amitabha. May you find early release in the next life!"
Hearing the voice, which sounded like a monk, Luo Jiang shouted, "Which bald donkey is making all that noise? Get out here, or I'll start throwing grenades!"
He called monks "bald donkeys" because he had often heard his senior brothers complain about how they hoarded wealth and occupied vast tracts of land, forcing villagers to pay rent while they sat idle. He had no love for them.
A shaven head poked out from behind a truck, revealing nine burn marks on the scalp. A young monk stepped out, dressed in grey robes. He was handsome, roughly the same height as Luo Jiang, and gripped a monk’s ring blade still stained with blood. It was clear he had finished off the remaining Japanese soldiers himself.
"Which bastard is running his mouth? I’m here! Come out if you’ve got the guts!"
"Damn it! So it is a little bald donkey. I'm right here!"
Luo Jiang walked over as he spoke, though he kept his rifle pointed away from the boy.
"Are you a little Taoist priest? Why don't you have long hair? Which temple are you from?" The little monk asked suspiciously as he walked toward him, gaining confidence when he saw Luo Jiang’s rifle was not leveled at him.
"I am a lay disciple of the Tianyun Taoist Temple. My Taoist name is Yuanjiang. Which temple are you from? Aren't you people forbidden from killing?"
"I came down from Mount Wutai with my master. My dharma name is Little Monk Xingshan. I got separated from my master and brothers when we ran into a squad of Japanese. I've been looking for them ever since. I only came over when I heard the gunfire. I didn't kill people; I killed beasts. My master says there is merit in killing beasts."
Little Monk Xingshan finished speaking, planted his blade in the ground, and pressed his palms together in a salute.
"Oh! Your name is Xingshan [Do Good]? Hahaha... you’ve killed so many people and you call yourself 'Do Good'? The name doesn't fit. It should be 'Rid Evil'."
"Ridding evil is doing good. That is what my master says. Do you have any food? I'm starving; my steamed buns ran out." Little Monk Xingshan looked at him with a pitiful expression.
"Idiot! There has to be food on the trucks! Go look! I don't carry rations; I just take what I grab from the Japanese."
"Right! I’ll go look." Little Monk Xingshan jumped onto the truck, and Luo Jiang took the opportunity to stow away the Japanese weapons and ammunition.
"Oh! This truck is full of canned beef. Why aren't there any steamed buns? Even plain buns would do!" Little Monk Xingshan exclaimed after opening a wooden crate.
"Better to have something than nothing. What are you being picky about? Throw two cans down." Luo Jiang knew monks weren't supposed to eat meat, but in these times, clinging to rigid precepts was less important than filling one's stomach.
"Amitabha, mercy, mercy. I must still uphold the precepts of the Buddha." Little Monk Xingshan tossed down two cans of beef. He looked at them longingly, but remembering his master’s teachings, he hesitated.
"Suit yourself then! Look how delicious this beef is. You need to be full to have the strength to kill the Japanese. Stay hungry if you want!" Luo Jiang pried open a can with his bayonet, skewered a piece of beef, and began to feast.
"Can you Taoists from Tianyun Taoist Temple eat meat? Aren't you afraid of offending the Taoist ancestors?" Little Monk Xingshan swallowed hard, his stomach growling even louder.
"This is the difference between Taoism and Buddhism. We don't abstain from meat. My master says we shouldn't kill draft oxen, but other meat is fine. Why don't you join our Tianyun Taoist Temple? Become a lay disciple, and you can eat meat whenever you want. You'll have more strength and stay full longer."
Luo Jiang had taken a liking to the boy’s efficiency in combat and tried to persuade him.
"Oh! I almost forgot! My master once said, 'Wine and meat pass through the intestines, but the Buddha remains in the heart.' A monk does not tell lies." With that, Little Monk Xingshan grabbed a can of beef, opened it, and began to devour it.
"Hypocritical monk. If you want to eat meat, just eat it without making excuses. Look at us in the Taoist tradition—we follow our hearts. As long as our conscience is clear, that is all that matters."
Luo Jiang scorned him, tossed the empty can aside, and opened a second one.
Little Monk Xingshan, likely starving, stopped talking and polished off five or six cans in one go, his belly distended, before letting out a long sigh of relief.
"Where are you headed? Going into the city?"
Little Monk Xingshan asked. He was impressed by this young boy who could kill so many Japanese with a rifle.
"I’m going into the city to get supplies. Someone’s coming—I’m leaving." As he spoke, Luo Jiang saw a group of people approaching in the distance. They were armed mostly with broadswords and spears, with few firearms among them. The leader held a Mauser pistol. Luo Jiang immediately turned and darted into the woods, ready for combat.
Little Monk Xingshan saw them from the truck. He didn't run, but instead jumped down and walked to meet them.
Once in the woods, Luo Jiang saw the boy talking to the group and pointing toward the forest. Not wanting to get involved—and fearing someone might discover his secrets—Luo Jiang used the Wind-Riding Technique to bypass the woods and sprint down a different path.
Young as he was, he knew that his Storage Bag and Storage Ring must remain a secret, lest others be tempted to harm him.
These were his own secrets. He was conflicted about whether to tell his master, but he decided that if he met him, he would give the Storage Bag to his master and keep the existence of the Storage Ring to himself.
"Little Master Xingshan, are you saying that young Taoist is a lay disciple of the Tianyun Taoist Temple? And he killed almost all of these Japanese soldiers?"
The leader, Liu Haidong, was a local guerrilla force captain who often led his men against the Japanese. Their lack of ammunition meant they were usually limited to using melee weapons and nighttime raids.
Seeing three trucks, three Nambu light machine guns, dozens of rifles with ammunition, three grenade launchers, and twelve crates of canned beef, he was ecstatic. They had gained a massive boost to their firepower without firing a single shot.
He knew Little Monk Xingshan from a previous encounter when he had shared food with the boy, and he knew the boy was a fellow fighter against the Japanese.
"Amitabha, mercy, mercy. A monk does not tell lies. Captain Liu, he killed almost all of them. I only handled the dozen or so at the rear. He said he was going into the city for supplies; I suspect he’s going to raid the Japanese stores. I hope he returns safely."
Little Monk Xingshan pressed his palms together, bowed toward Beiping City, and looked troubled.
"We can't go into the city; we don't want to alert the Japanese. Let's get these supplies back immediately before their reinforcements arrive."
Liu Haidong and his men quickly cleared the area. They noticed twenty rifles were missing, but they didn't dwell on it. They headed into the mountains with Little Monk Xingshan. As for the trucks, they didn't know how to drive them, so they set them on fire.
Luo Jiang, wearing his patched robes, had rubbed dirt over his clothes and face to play the part of a destitute child. He walked toward the city gate.
There were four Japanese soldiers and ten puppet soldiers checking citizens. Every person was being searched; those with money had it confiscated. The people dared not speak out, submitting to the bullying for fear of the Japanese bayonets.
"Kid, what are you doing in the city?" a puppet soldier asked after searching him and finding nothing.
"Commander, I’m from Chen Village. My uncle is a night-soil collector in the city. He sent word that he found a master for me to learn carpentry. I’m going in to start my apprenticeship."
Seeing others call the soldiers "Commander," Luo Jiang followed suit, acting terrified and trembling as he spoke. He played the part well.
"Get lost!" Finding no profit in the boy, the puppet soldier kicked him in the backside.
Luo Jiang stumbled, narrowly avoiding a fall, and scurried into the city, drawing mocking laughter from the guards.
*Hmph! Laugh all you want, you dogs. When I come back out, it’ll be your death day.* Luo Jiang made a silent vow.
Once inside, he wandered the streets. He wasn't hungry, so he spent the daylight hours scouting Japanese positions, planning to strike at night.
He eventually found himself before a large compound guarded by two Japanese soldiers. There were sandbag fortifications on either side, with two more soldiers manning a machine gun. The defense looked tight.
He noticed a long wooden sign by the gate with characters he only partially recognized. He guessed it was Japanese; some characters looked like those of the Dragon Kingdom, though he couldn't be sure of the meaning. A Japanese officer arrived in a motorcycle sidecar, moving in and out of the compound.
*This must be where the big shots live. I'll come back tonight and take them out. Now, to find a Japanese grain store—maybe pick up some pork or beef while I'm at it.*