The Rise of Phoenixes

Chapter 274

The Dama lifted his head, his muddy eyes filled with astonishment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Feng Zhiwei was already sweeping past him and dipping the tip of a silver dagger into the pure white koumiss.

She lifted the dagger up and turned to the crowd. The brilliant sun clearly showed the silver blade turning black under the koumiss!

The crowd was stunned. Mouths fell open in disbelief, and the astonishment was so deep that only silence could follow. Feng Zhiwei turned to eye the Dama and smoothly asked: “Dama Ala, if Helian Zheng had not fallen from poison, would he have escaped your poisoned koumiss? Such an elaborate plan you’ve come up with to assassinate the King.”

“You... you...” The Dama stuttered, his body trembling so hard that he seemed to shrivel up and shrinking into his robes.

“You accepted the Fire Fox Tribe’s bribe and aided him in slandering the Queen, stopping the Queen from attending to coronation so no one would stop you from assassinating the King — Dama, are you truly a disciple? Are you really a monk? Are you worthy of the respect of all the Hu Zhuo people? Can you live with yourself and face the wide, boundless skies over the vast steppes?”

“You...” The Dama gasped in anger, holding himself up with difficulty. He clearly wanted to argue back, but his old fingers could only powerlessly paw the platform, his body frozen and unwilling to move.

“You have claimed an ascetic life all this time, oil lamps in a small temple simple and unadorned, and your sacrifice has earned you the steppe’s esteem, but to think that you were just a liar and a fake fooling everyone!”

Feng Zhiwei stepped forward and ripped the Dama’s sleeve, lifting it up so that the crowd could see the glittering black-gold threads on the inner layer. Feng Zhiwei called out with a loud voice: “Brothers and sisters of the Steppes, were you ever moved by the Dama Ala’s choice to wear a single cassock for over three decades? Today you see the truth! He has never changed robes in thirty years because there are no clothes more valuable than his!”

The cassock’s dark-gold threat glimmered in the sun and every eye closed, whether from the dazzling light or the heart-tearing truth.

A firm spiritual mountain holding up the skies over the steppes had suddenly collapsed and the unbreathable walls of faith had suddenly cracked. Everyone was at a loss, and they did not dare to believe; they did not want to believe! Pleading eyes turned to the Dama Living Buddha — as long as he could explain, they would believe!

But he said nothing.

The Dama Living Buddha trembled, a weeping whimper in his throat. His muddy eyes were powerless, and he had no response to Feng Zhiwei’s forceful questions.

Kereyid’s eyes glimmered and he opened his mouth to speak, but Gu Nanyi gestured warningly with the walnuts he was quietly eating. If Kereyid spoke a single word, a walnut would instantly fly into his throat.

And so Kereyid shut his mouth and his face shifted anxiously. He was too afraid to even move his feet.

“Dama Ala.” Feng Zhiwei began once more, looking down her nose at the old man. “You are the sone of sacred Tengri; your prescience is a blessing to the Steppes, a light Tengri has bestowed to this land. No demon or ghost can stand by your side, and no one can trick your wise eyes or pour muddy water on your head. Whether just or unjust, right or wrong, Feng Zhiwei stands here and waits for the father to answer.”

Her eyes were bright and clear, her words filled with force of justice. With dark-gold threads classed in her snowy fingers, Feng Zhiwei stood like a windswept statue on a great mountain, firm and brave and steadfast.

The men of the steppes looked at her with new eyes; this Han woman that they had disdained now seemed so noble and powerful.

They had all seen her accused and slandered and humiliated, but she had always been calm and unhurried. As soon as she stepped forth, everything turned in her favor. She was sharp and cutting, but not overbearing; she was bold and forceful, but not oppressing. Even now, after all the trouble Dama Ala had caused her, she gave him the chance to defend himself.

The men of the steppes admired frank and straightforward character. In their eyes, the godly Dama Living Buddha, silent as he sat on his felt rug, was too disappointing.

The collapse of their faith would not happen all at once, but the seed of doubt had been planted.

The steppe men waited silently, their eyes still almost disbelieving, yet the mood had shifted — even after Feng Zhiwei’s increasingly violent accusations, no one called for her to stop.

The Dama stared with muddy and bloodshot eyes at Feng Zhiwei. He saw not the honorable black dressed woman but a bloody wolf stalking towards the steppes.

He had long since given up the trudge to speak — as soon as Feng Zhiwei had stepped forward, all the blood in his body had slowed into a thick molass preventing him from speaking or moving.

He thought back to Feng Zhiwei’s visit during the night... she had adjusted the oil lamp’s flame as she sat in the shadows across from him. Two men outside the open door with wind blowing in... suspicion filled his heart, scattering the chaotic emotions running through him.

She had been prepared. He did not how she had done it, but while distracting him, she had switched out his copper ceremonial instrument and shoddy cassock and poisoned him.

The poison expert by her side had clearly frozen his voice, and everyone could only see that he refused to speak, acknowledging her accusations with silence.

She had not thrown off all suspicions of her character and toppled him from his respected throne. This female wolf had long been suspicious of Narta’s child and had set out the bait, luring her enemies to step into their own doom, dragging him down with them and eliminating every threat, catching all and sparing none.

That the Living Buddha should accept bribes and collude with Patriarch Fire Fox to frame the Queen for the murder of the King... the fallout would be unimaginable!

The Dama lowered his eyes and breathed a deep, shuddering breath... would the future of the steppes truly be held in this woman’s hands? no... no...