A Pawn's Passage

Chapter 540: Zhongyuan Festival

Yuxu Palace was brightly illuminated, its entire structure glowing in a bluish-white hue. Against the backdrop of the vast, starry sky, it resembled a celestial palace in heaven.

Among the three major Daoist festivals, the Shangyuan Festival was the most significant, followed by the Zhongyuan Festival, with the Xiayuan Festival being the least grand.

The Zhongyuan Festival was the common name used in the Daoist community. Among common folk, it was known as the Ancestor Worship Festival, while in the Buddhist community, it was referred to as the Yulanpen Festival. The customs associated with it include ancestor worship, floating river lanterns, honoring wandering spirits, burning paper ingots, and making offerings to the Earth Celestial. The origins of this festival could even be traced back to the Ancient Shamanistic Sect’s ancestor worship and related seasonal rituals.

The Book of Changes stated, “To and fro goes the way. On the seventh day comes the return. Such is the movement of heaven.”

The number seven represented yang and the celestial order. After the yang energy between heaven and earth was completely depleted, it would take seven days to revive. This was the natural cycle of yin and yang, the alternation of growth and decline. The common folk believed that on this day, the gates of the underworld would open. Hence, the Zhongyuan Festival was also colloquially known as the Ghost Festival.

Due to the festival’s significance, it was customary for the Daoist Order to invite numerous guests. Additionally, all Omniscient Sages and Great Sages present in Jade Capital would attend. Even the Grand Master would typically make an appearance at Yuxu Palace to celebrate alongside ordinary Daoist disciples and jointly release river lanterns. For many low-ranking Daoists, this was their only opportunity to enter the Purple Mansion.

For ordinary people, river lanterns simply drifted along the water. However, since there was no river on Yuxu Peak, the Daoist Order adopted the tradition by launching floating prayer lanterns into the vast, star-filled sky.

All Daoist disciples, regardless of rank or status, could participate in the lantern release. The Grand Master would personally select one prayer lantern as the winner, and the owner of the chosen lantern would be awarded 777 specially minted Wuyou coins.

Whether for the prize money or for the chance to make an impression in front of the Grand Master, competition among the Daoist disciples was fierce. The variety of prayer lanterns grew more elaborate each year. When released simultaneously, they formed a dazzling sea of lights, outshining even the stars in the sky.

The Sages were pleased with this spectacle. After all, such a scene perfectly embodied the prosperity and grandeur of a flourishing era, further highlighting the Daoist Order’s majestic and dignified presence.

Although the position of Grand Master remained vacant, the Great Sage Lunzhi was still responsible for attending and selecting the lucky winner.

With less than an hour before the event began, the area outside Yuxu Palace was bustling with excitement. Many low-ranking Daoists arrived early with their carefully crafted prayer lanterns, crowding the entrance to the point of congestion.

Due to the festive atmosphere and the principle of celebrating with the people, all high-ranking Daoists—except for the Great Sage Lunzhi—arrived on foot without their attendants.

Even the Great Sage Lunzhi, who represented the Grand Master and the prestige of the Daoist Order, would keep the ceremonial entourage minimal and travel with a simple procession.

As one neared Yuxu Palace, the lights became ever more dazzling. In front of the palace gates stood a massive, temporary lantern tower that was over 100 meters in height. It was adorned with 10,000 golden lanterns.

Its grandeur even overshadowed the main attraction of the night, Yuxu Palace. This lantern tower could be built only because Jade Capital was protected by formations. Otherwise, the fierce winds atop Yuxu Peak would have easily toppled it.

Just days ago, during the Three Religions Assembly, this lantern tower was not yet present. It was not constructed on-site but was first built elsewhere and later transported here in its entirety.

At this moment, the celebration had yet to officially begin, so only a portion of the golden lanterns on the tower were lit, outlining its general shape. Even when it was far from being fully illuminated, its towering and majestic aura was undeniable. One could only imagine how dazzling and resplendent it would be once all the lanterns were lit.

According to tradition, the Grand Master would ascend the tower and personally light the golden lantern at the very top. This flame would then trigger a mechanism that sequentially ignited the other golden lanterns, ultimately illuminating the entire structure.

At that moment, the lantern tower would transform into the Primordial Daoist Ancestor’s 33 Heavenly Palaces, mirroring the 33 floors of the Sky Tower deep within the Purple Mansion and the Primordial Daoist Ancestor’s statue in Taiqing Square.

The security around the lantern tower and Yuxu Palace was not particularly tight. This was because, aside from the Sages stationed in various Daoist mansions and palaces, nearly half of the Sages were gathered here tonight. They were not only the ruling figures of the Daoist Order but also some of the most powerful cultivators. Who would dare to cause trouble here? Even an Ancient Immortal would not choose to descend in such a setting.

After approaching Yuxu Palace, Sage Cihang needed to join the other Omniscient Sages to enter the palace alongside the Great Sage Lunzhi. As a third-rank Youyi Daoist master, Zhang Yuelu was not yet qualified to accompany them and could only enter the palace on her own.

Zhang Yuelu paused for a moment, raising her head to admire the grand lantern tower that was modeled after the Sky Tower. She had to admit that the tower was indeed magnificent and beautifully crafted.

However, deep down, she remained skeptical. Setting aside the immense cost of constructing such a tower, it might be justified if it were to have a lasting presence and serve a practical purpose. But this tower would likely be dismantled within a year or so, so what was the point?

Was it merely to uphold the Daoist Order’s prestige for a single day? This was somewhat different from mere window dressing, yet, in essence, there was little distinction. There was no need to rely on such methods to inspire people. The Daoist Order now seemed to be at the peak of its prosperity, yet showing signs of decline. It had reached a point where reform was necessary.

As such, this spectacle might even have the opposite effect. In the end, it could be summed up in four words—grand spectacles ruin nations.

Retracting her gaze, Zhang Yuelu sighed softly and murmured, “How could mere embellishments deceive the world with fabricated righteousness?”

With that, she resumed walking toward Yuxu Palace.

Just then, several Confucian scholars who had been invited to the event strode forward, blocking Zhang Yuelu’s path.

With these scholars taking the lead, more soon followed. First a dozen, then double the amount. Before long, the crowd swelled to over a hundred people.

As guests, they were entitled to courtesy. Moreover, the Daoist Order had always advocated for harmonious relations with the Confucian School, so no one dared to act hastily.

Thus, a bizarre scene unfolded. In the very heart of the Daoist Jade Capital, more than 100 Confucian scholars encircled a single Daoist woman with an imposing stance, as if they were the true masters of the place, while she was merely an unwelcome outsider.

Most of these scholars were young men who had accompanied their mentors to Jade Capital for the Zhongyuan Festival celebrations. They exuded the fervor typical of scholars. Their elders, having already entered Yuxu Palace or watched from a distance, offered only perfunctory words of advice. Yet, many simply observed coldly, and some even seemed to tacitly encourage the confrontation.

Ever since the conflict between the Daoist Order and the Buddhist Sect, the Daoist Order has been elevating the status of the Confucian School to win them over. To implement the policy of aligning with the Confucian School, the Daoist Order primarily sought to pacify them. Thus, if a conflict arose between Daoist and Confucian disciples, the Daoist Order would not only refuse to side with its own disciples but would instead favor the Confucian scholars, prioritizing the alliance between the two institutions above all else. As a result, Confucian disciples had long been emboldened by Daoist leniency, making them fearless even within Jade Capital.

Moreover, given such a mass confrontation, it was hard to believe that no one was secretly pulling the strings behind the scenes and fanning the flames of discord.

With both internal collusion and external pressure, Zhang Yuelu found herself in an extremely awkward predicament.

Standing alone before a crowd of 100 men, Zhang Yuelu showed no trace of panic, nor did she appear pitiful or enraged. She faced the mob with absolute calm, embodying the composed dignity required in times of great crisis.

Zhang Yuelu stood straight with her hands behind her back, unwavering like a mountain.

The Confucian scholars had assumed that Zhang Yuelu would become intimidated and step aside upon witnessing their overwhelming numbers, allowing them to claim victory in this way. Yet, to their surprise, she did not retreat. This woman was truly audacious!

It was one thing for her to have made such audacious remarks during the Three Religions Assembly, but now she showed no signs of repentance.

This only fueled the scholars’ indignation.

Today, they would make sure she swallowed her words.

The leading scholar berated her. “Zhang Yuelu, do you think that just because you have read a few classical texts and memorized some superficial doctrines, you have the right to comment on Confucian principles and lecture us on benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom?"

Zhang Yuelu did not argue, nor did she lower her stance. She remained silent yet composed.

In truth, many of them were seeing Zhang Yuelu for the first time. Had it not been for her controversial critique of Confucianism during the debate, encountering her under normal circumstances would have left them awestruck by her beauty and noble presence. Some might even have felt admiration or affection.

Tonight, Zhang Yuelu wore the third-rank Youyi Daoist uniform, which consisted of a formal hechang and a Five Peaks Crown. The crown had a pyramidal shape and was engraved with the true form of the Five Sacred Mountains. Her phoenix-like eyes radiated brilliance, and a divine aura surrounded her, exuding an undeniable authority that demanded respect.

Had they faced her alone, they likely would not have dared to act so righteously indignant.

Zhang Yuelu ignored the Confucian scholars and glanced around, trying to find the person watching the spectacle while hiding in the shadows. However, she could not help but sigh softly knowing her efforts were in vain.

As the youngest third-rank Youyi Daoist master in decades, Zhang Yuelu had become a prominent target. There was a saying that the tallest tree in the forest was usually the first to be felled by the wind. Naturally, someone would want to suppress her and temper her rising influence. So such an encounter was both logical and expected.

Fortunately, she was a woman, so this group of Confucian scholars only blocked her way. Had she been a man, the schemes against her would likely have been far more disgraceful.

For example, if it had been Qi Xuansu in her place, someone might have arranged for a woman carrying a child to rush up and cling to his legs. The woman would hurl accusations of betrayal while the child would cry, “Father!”

In the end, even if it was dismissed as a mistaken identity, the scandal would have already spread. Rumors would circulate, distorting the truth until he was painted as a scoundrel and heartless adulterer.

This was the advantage of being a woman. Pregnancy was not something that could be faked, so no one could convincingly have a man rush up with a child crying out, “Mother!”

Such methods, though seemingly absurd, were highly effective. In the previous dynasty, despite the strict rituals of Confucianism and the rigid rules of the Imperial Court, rumors still spread about the evil prime minister sleeping on the emperor’s bed simply because his political reforms had harmed vested interests. After all, slandering someone’s reputation was an effortless endeavor.

Just then, another Confucian scholar loudly rebuked, “Zhang Yuelu, you speak with arrogance, calling the ritual system deceitful and hypocritical. Clearly, you yourself do not abide by the principles of propriety and law. You are a traitor to both your sovereign and your father, forsaking your nation and kin!”

“A traitor to both sovereign and father? That is quite the accusation.” Zhang Yuelu chuckled. “That is exactly why I say that you Confucian scholars always try to reduce the world to a single household, insisting on turning every human relationship into that of father and son. You must either find yourselves a father, or you must become one for others. But someone must always be on their knees. If you are stronger, I kneel; if I am stronger, you kneel. Have you ever considered that people can sit and discuss as equals?”