Chapter 783
Are they desperate for money? Lin Zhu was so busy doing the math that she almost cried,
The Hall of Law Enforcement itself is magnificent. The entire hall is framed by meteorite iron from the Heavenly Court, and the walls are made of nine-colored glazed bricks, each of which is sealed with a law enforcement curse.
Above the main entrance of the hall hangs a huge plaque with the four characters "Hall of Law Enforcement" written on it.
These four characters are not ordinary characters, but a quasi-innate level spiritual treasure, which has the effect of intimidating the mind and soul. People with evil intentions will feel their legs go weak and they will not be able to stand up when they stand under the plaque.
At this moment, the Nine-Layered Heavenly Prison's prestige in the Three Realms has reached a level that is beyond awe.
Whether it was Emperor Gouchen's deliberate hype or his previous reputation for enforcing the law in the Three Realms, destroying the Five Turbidities of the World, and arresting people in Mount Ling, the name of the Nine-Layered Heavenly Prison is now more renowned in the Three Realms than many established powers.
Back then, the Heavenly Prison was just an internal prison institution of the Heavenly Court, which managed minor offenses committed by the gods and occasionally arrested a few heavenly soldiers and generals who violated the heavenly rules. It was not worth mentioning in the eyes of the giants of the Three Realms.
But things are different now. Ever since Lin Zhu took over the Heavenly Prison, the Nine Heavenly Prison has done one thing after another that is more ruthless than the last. When breaking through the Five Turbidities of the World, they even arrested Bodhisattvas. When they went to Mount Ling to arrest people, even Tathagata appeared. This kind of courage and strength has made the entire Three Realms remember this name.
Countless ownerless monsters in the human world, and even the Asura race of the River Styx and the Sea of Blood, are said to yearn for this supreme Heavenly Court organization.
The news came from the Southern Continent. It is said that several rogue demon kings publicly stated at a banquet that if the Nine-Layered Heavenly Prison opened its doors to recruit people, they would be the first to seek refuge there.
Several ancient demons who had lived in seclusion for thousands of years also sent their lesser demons to inquire about the Heavenly Prison, wanting to know when the Law Enforcement Hall would officially open and whether it would be recruiting anyone.
The Asura Clan's reaction surprised Lin Zhu even more. The Styx Blood Sea has never submitted to anyone, and the Asura Clan, starting with their ancestor, the Styx Master, has been a notorious troublemaker in the Three Realms, barely even respecting the Heavenly Court.
But now, some young members of the Asura clan have actually said that if they could become law enforcers in the Nine Heavens Prison, it would be much better than being an Asura warrior in the Sea of Blood.
All the monsters eagerly awaited the opening of the Enforcement Hall to recruit them.
Everything awaits Lin Zhu's promotion.
Only after being promoted can Lin Zhu mobilize more resources, expand the Heavenly Prison, and officially recruit soldiers by opening the doors of the Law Enforcement Hall.
Although the name of the Heavenly Prison is prestigious, it is not legitimate. Lin Zhu's own cultivation level has not reached that level yet, so it is not appropriate to do many things in a big way.
However, Lin Zhu wasn't in a particular hurry to get promoted.
Given the limited resources in the prison, rapid promotion is not necessarily a good thing. He's already struggling to support the current staff; if he were to expand the staff and hire too many people after being promoted, he wouldn't be able to pay salaries or provide resources, which would be incredibly embarrassing.
Now Lin Zhu is thinking about acquiring more resources.
As the saying goes, poor children learn to be independent early. Lin Zhu was a sensible poor child. Coming from a poor family, Lin Zhu knew that the resources needed to support a nine-story prison would be astronomical.
The daily cultivation expenses of the Prison God Guards alone are not a small amount. The various pills, spiritual materials, immortal jade, and maintenance of magic artifacts add up to a huge expense every month.
Moreover, the prison guards had risked their lives for him, so he couldn't let them eat meager food; he had to reward them with something good.
Especially if the Law Enforcement Hall opens, you'll have to offer incentives to recruit people, since those are all resources.
Recruiting a Golden Immortal-level Enforcer would require a gift of a Acquired Spiritual Treasure, and the monthly cultivation resources would amount to at least several dozen high-grade Immortal Jade. Recruiting a thousand Golden Immortals would increase the expenses a thousandfold.
Every time Lin Zhu did this calculation, she felt penniless.
Lin Zhu currently possesses very few magical treasures, only a few dozen at most.
He counted his belongings over and over again, and the more he counted, the more shabby he felt. Dozens of magical treasures sounded like a lot, but their quality varied greatly, and only a few were truly impressive.
In particular, the number of innate spiritual treasures capable of containing the three corpses is extremely small, less than ten. This means that at most, they can support a few quasi-saints with the lowest cultivation level, but no more than that, because there isn't even a container for them to entrust their three corpses.
Moreover, there are too few treasures; at best, it's the treasure given by the Dragon Clan that can create a half-step Quasi-Saint.
To thank him for speaking up for the dragons of the four seas in the Heavenly Court, the dragons specially selected several fine items from the Dragon Palace's treasury and sent them to him. These were the most valuable gifts Lin Zhu had received in recent years. But there were only a few items, and once they were used up, they were gone.
Other kinds of peaches, ginseng fruit, and yellow plums are too meager; they're probably just small snacks.
The peaches were saved from his Heavenly Court salary, the ginseng fruit was a thank-you gift from Zhen Yuanzi for helping him resolve a troublesome matter last time, and the yellow plum was a bribe given by a rogue cultivator who wanted him to intercede on his behalf.
These things are already considered extraordinary treasures by ordinary cultivators in the Three Realms, but in Lin Zhu's eyes, they are just things to eat as snacks and are not worth mentioning at all.
Adding those several thousand sets of top-tier magical artifacts, it's only enough to accommodate three thousand ordinary Golden Immortals.
These magical artifacts were the accumulated wealth of several generations of prison gods in the Nine Heavens. After Lin Zhu took over, he also managed to obtain some more from the Heavenly Court's logistics department, barely enough to equip three thousand people.
But magical artifacts are ultimately just magical artifacts, and they are not on the same level as magical treasures at all. It doesn't look good for Golden Immortals to carry out law enforcement with magical artifacts.
Lin Zhu had a clear understanding of the situation.
Even though Lin Zhu's goals were very modest—just wanting a peaceful life, after all, ordinary people don't dare to have lofty ideals—the resources were still far too limited, even for maintaining a small nine-story prison.
The word "resources" weighed heavily on Lin Zhu's mind, making him sigh every time he thought about it.
Ugh.
Whenever Lin Zhu felt poor, she would always think of that good friend.
That guy always appears when Lin Zhu is in the most difficult time, and every time he helps Lin Zhu get out of trouble.
From the moment he first took over the prison when it was penniless and sent the first batch of resources, to later gradually filling the prison's coffers through various collaborations, that good friend never disappointed Lin Zhu.
I don't know if I'll ever see him again.
Lin Zhu is currently overseeing the Journey to the West, while his good friend is busy traveling throughout the Three Realms. They are each preoccupied with their own lives, and their opportunities to meet have become much less frequent. But Lin Zhu believes that true brotherhood doesn't require daily meetings; mutual concern is enough.
Lin Zhu deeply agrees with this saying and is sincerely grateful to this good friend.
He lay on the pine tree, gazing blankly at the sky, wondering when they would meet again. Two months passed quickly, and it was early spring once more.
The mountains and forests were a vibrant green, with grasses and trees sprouting new buds, plum blossoms fallen, and willow buds just opening. The traces of winter had been swept away by the spring breeze, and the mountains were once again draped in a tender green coat.
The stream had thawed and was flowing with a tinkling sound, with a few freshly fallen petals floating on its surface. The birds became lively again, chirping in the woods, and occasionally a few bolder ones would land by the roadside, tilting their heads to watch the passing Tang Sanzang and his companions.
Wildflowers along the mountain path have begun to appear, yellow, white, and purple, scattered among the grass, emitting a faint fragrance.
The morning dew still clung to the blades of grass, and when the sun shone on them, it reflected countless tiny points of light, enveloping the entire mountain path in a warm and soft halo.
Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong swept through the land, traversing an extremely long path, leaving behind a trail stained with blood.
This trail wasn't the blood of a monster, nor was it human blood; it was the blood of various ferocious beasts. Tiger blood, black bear blood, wolf blood, and once even the blood of a rhinoceros that had accidentally run into it.
Tang Sanzang's staff was covered with dark red marks of varying shades, formed by blood seeping into the metal's grooves, which could not be washed off no matter how hard he tried.
He simply stopped washing it, and the nine-ringed tin staff became a flowery cane, patchy with red and white, gleaming eerily in the sunlight.
Sun Wukong's Ruyi Jingu Bang was clean and tidy, because he hadn't had a chance to use it in the past two months.
In the past, Sun Wukong would always take down any ferocious beast with a single blow of his staff. Now, Tang Sanzang is eager to fight, and Sun Wukong can only squat on the side and watch, occasionally reminding him, "Master, there's an opening on its left side" or "Master, watch out for its tail."
Now the sun is setting again.
The clouds on the horizon were dyed a brilliant orange-red by the setting sun, spreading out in layers like a huge brocade hanging on the sky.
The shadows of the mountains and forests were stretched very long, and the dew on the grass blades condensed again, reflecting the afterglow of the setting sun, like scattered gold dust.
Tripitaka reined in his horse and gazed into the distance.
He tightened the reins, bringing the white horse to a stop, and raised his hand to his forehead, gazing into the distance. The setting sun's rays made him squint slightly, but he still managed to see something against the light—the shadowy silhouettes of pavilions and towers amidst the distant mountains.
The shadow was indistinct, embedded in the mountain hollow, edged with an orange-red glow by the setting sun. The outline of the pavilion was faintly visible, as if a tall tower stood there, its tip reflecting a golden light in the sunset.
The upturned eaves of the palace buildings peek out from among the treetops, layer upon layer, in a well-organized manner, making it appear to be quite large.
Sanzang put down his hand, turned his head and asked Wukong what kind of place that was.
The traveler looked up, his golden, fiery eyes gleaming faintly in the setting sun, reflecting the outlines of distant buildings. He made his judgment at a glance, stating with certainty that it was not a palace, but a temple.
He was very familiar with the layout of that building—a tall tower with halls and pavilions, flying eaves and brackets; it was the standard layout of a Buddhist temple, neither a Taoist palace nor a mansion in the mortal world.
Sun Wukong continued, urging them to hurry and find lodging somewhere. It was getting dark, and staying at a temple was better than spending the night in the wilderness.
Although Tang Sanzang no longer cared about sleeping in the mountains, having a place to shelter from the wind and rain was always good, and the temple might even have vegetarian meals, even though Tang Sanzang didn't eat vegetarian food.
Tang Sanzang agreed and set off. He took out a piece of tiger leg meat from the cloth bag next to the saddle. The tiger meat was mostly dried, with a thin layer of fat on the surface. The meat was firm and the texture was distinct.
He took a big bite, chewed hard a few times, and a trickle of juice spilled from the corner of his mouth. Tiger meat tasted a bit fishy, but it was chewy and satisfying, and Tang Sanzang had gotten used to the taste after eating it for two months.
He casually tossed the tiger meat aside.
The remaining half of the tiger leg meat fell to the ground, rolled twice, and stopped next to a clump of wildflowers by the roadside. Clear teeth marks were still visible on the meat, its edges torn unevenly, revealing the pale pink meat fibers inside.
Tang Sanzang raised an eyebrow, ignoring everything else, and spurred his horse straight toward the narrow mountain pass.
The mountain path grew narrower and narrower, the mountain walls on both sides became steeper and steeper, and the sky above seemed to be squeezed into a long, narrow crack. The path was covered with gravel and dead branches, and the white dragon horse had to carefully find a place to step with each step.
The horse's hooves trod on the loose stones, which tumbled down and crashed into the deep ravine beside the road, the echo reverberating between the mountain walls for a long time before dissipating.
However, the roads in these mountains and forests are long and difficult, and the mountain paths are rugged, making it difficult to ride a horse.
Although the white horse had recovered from its injuries, it was no ordinary horse, and such rugged terrain was not a problem for it.
Even so, the branches growing horizontally on the mountain wall blocked the way, and the rocks overhead hung down so low they almost touched the horse's head. The white dragon horse had to lower its head and turn its body with every step, making its journey extremely difficult.
Sun Wukong squatted on the horse's head, looked back at Tang Sanzang, and said, "How about the White Dragon Horse does this or that first?" He meant that the White Dragon Horse should first transform into its dragon form and fly over, or shrink down and crawl through, and then transform back when it reached flat ground.
Anyway, the white dragon horse's true form is a dragon, so these rocks are nothing to a dragon.
Tang Sanzang said there was no need for such trouble.
The next second, Tang Sanzang lifted the white dragon horse above his head with one hand.
He dismounted, bent over and knelt, reached under the horse's belly with his right hand, gripped the white horse's belly with his five fingers, his arm muscles suddenly tensed, veins bulging from his wrist to his shoulder, and then he exerted force—with a muffled thud, the white horse, along with the luggage and saddle on its back, was lifted up by him and held high above his head.
The white dragon horse kicked its four hooves in the air twice in a daze, lowered its neck to look at its own belly, and then looked at Tang Sanzang's shiny bald head below, its eyes filled with utter despair.
Tang Sanzang carried the horse, weighing several hundred pounds, with one hand, his posture as steady as if he were carrying a bundle of straw, without even breaking a sweat. He said, "I'll carry the horse, let's go." His voice was calm and indifferent, as if he were talking about something trivial.
After saying that, he strode forward, carrying the white dragon horse into the narrow mountain path. The low-hanging rocks and overgrown branches were obstacles for the white dragon horse, but they were nothing to Tang Sanzang; he had more than enough space to walk by himself.
Tang Sanzang moved swiftly, disappearing into the mountains and forests in a few leaps.
He carried the white dragon horse and ran along the rugged mountain path. His steps were fast and steady, each step precisely landing on the solidest stone. His figure darted left and right between the rock walls, so agile that he didn't seem like a monk carrying hundreds of kilograms of weight.
His bald head appeared and disappeared among the trees, reflecting orange-red light in the afterglow of the setting sun, like a star moving rapidly through the mountains and forests.
Sun Wukong stood behind, watching Tang Sanzang carry the horse and disappear into the depths of the dense forest, his expression shifting several times. (End of Chapter)