Invasion Myth: Starting with the Schoolteacher

Chapter 799 The Fallen Governor

Governor He sat in the grand chair in the main hall of the examination hall, his fingers unconsciously stroking the jade pendant on his chest.

From the moment he stepped into the examination hall, he felt a faint, intermittent throbbing pain in his heart, as if someone were gently pulling on his heart with a thin thread.

He had already secretly summoned his carefully cultivated medical team—three trusted doctors with exceptional medical skills.

These people were all promoted by him, and their loyalty is beyond doubt.

The conclusions reached after repeated consultations were surprisingly consistent: apart from the common physical weakness brought on by aging, there was nothing seriously wrong.

“A disease that is not caused by illness is a great calamity…” Governor He squinted his eyes and tapped his knuckles lightly on the table.

Having navigated the treacherous waters of officialdom for decades, he knew all too well what this meant—either some extremely well-hidden and rare poison, or… the work of evil magic.

His mind raced through the names of the enemies he had offended over the years: the powerful figures whose homes were confiscated, the officials who were demoted, the rebels who were suppressed... Didn't they all hate him to the bone?
Poisoning and assassination are common methods, but what is even more terrifying are the witchcraft and sorcery that are impossible to guard against.

"Someone come here." Governor He summoned his trusted aide in a low voice, his voice as cold as ice. "Go and check if any suspicious individuals have recently approached my daily life. Also..." He paused, "Go to Chanzhi Temple and invite a few eminent monks here."

His advisor whispered, "My lord, why not stay at the examination hall for now? This place is rich in literary atmosphere and has been blessed by sages; no evil magic can work here."

Governor He pondered for a moment, then nodded slightly.

So he squatted there, secretly directing his subordinates to find the reason.

The mansion, the side courtyard, and several other hidden residences were all searched thoroughly.

That night, the governor's mansion was brightly lit. The trusted guards, accompanied by sorcerers, secretly searched the place and actually dug out a wooden puppet wrapped in red cloth from under a flower bed in a side courtyard. The puppet had its birth date and time engraved on it and was also stuck with seven silver needles.

The high-ranking monks who were supported by the mansion immediately burned incense and chanted sutras, and smashed the wooden puppet with a vajra.

“Strange…” The head monk frowned, staring at the wooden puppet that had turned to ashes. “Although this thing had resentment, it was not the main cause.”

As the days went by, the governor's palpitations came and went, but he could never find the cause.

He continued to sit upright in the main hall of the examination hall every day, presiding over the imperial examinations with a dignified expression, and even his closest subordinates could not see anything unusual about him.

Only the personal guard noticed that the calming tea on the master's desk had increased from one cup a day to three cups a day.

Fear, like a bone-deep infection, spread through the old man's heart—this invisible threat was perhaps more difficult to guard against than any open attack.

He even began to recall the first half of his life.

When he was young, did he ever fear any retribution for life or death?
Born into the He family of Longxi, he resolutely abandoned his literary pursuits and chose the most dangerous path of military merit in order to stand out among the scions of prominent families.

He remembered that when the late emperor quelled the rebellion in Shu, he had ordered the burning of a thousand acres of fertile land to cut off the enemy's supply lines in order to show his loyalty.

That night, the firelight illuminated half the sky, and the cries of fleeing people were incessant.

After the war, a count revealed that 5,000 of his men had been beheaded, and 1.8 million bushels of grain and over 4,000 hectares of rice paddies had been burned.

It could be said that at that time he was not afraid of God at all.

It wasn't until he got older and gained more power that things changed.

But as he grew older and his power increased, he gradually changed.

In his first year, he entered the temple with the mindset that "it wouldn't hurt to believe it."

Since all the officials were praying to gods and Buddhas, following the trend and enshrining a few golden statues would neither cost money nor be shameful.

The following year, a high-ranking monk said to him, "Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot." These words were like sweet dew that nourished his parched heart.

So sins can be washed away so easily? He gladly donated funds to rebuild the Mahavira Hall of Jinshan Temple.

By the third year, he was deeply entangled in it. The high monks said that as long as one sincerely makes offerings to the Three Jewels, builds more temples, and recites more Buddhist scriptures, the karmic debts from past killings will naturally be resolved.

So he embarked on a massive construction project and recruited many monks, building seven temples in Yangzhou, where he listened to sutras every day and made offerings to the Buddha every night.

He quickly became immersed in the beautiful future that Buddhism had woven for him.

But a problem only became apparent when the crisis was imminent.

Over the years, he has donated countless incense money and built seven temples, but the high monks have never clearly told him how much of his sins he still has.
He stared at the abbot of Zenji Temple, his voice low: "Master, in your opinion... will I be able to get through this safely?"

Fine beads of sweat appeared on the master's forehead; how could he know?

Zenji Temple is indeed a legitimate Buddhist temple with a genuine lineage.

The rapid expansion of his power in Yangzhou was largely due to the support of Governor He, his "patron."

But the situation before him was far beyond his comprehension.

He was clearly protected by human virtue and fortune, and the jade pendant at his waist was a protective treasure bestowed by the royal family. The temple also chanted sutras and prayed for him day and night. Logically speaking, ordinary evil spirits should not be able to get close to him at all.

So when faced with questioning, his usual eloquent tongue faltered.

The seemingly devout governor in front of him didn't care about the true meaning of Buddhism at all—all he wanted was an answer that could save his life.

He had no doubt that if he could not give a satisfactory answer, the long-standing relationship between Zenji Temple and Zenji would be severed.

"If...if there are good men and good women..." In his haste, the master even recited a passage from the Amitabha Sutra, his voice trembling slightly, "Upon hearing of Amitabha Buddha, and holding fast to his name...that person, at the time of death, will not be confused in mind, and will be reborn in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha..."

This forced the master to start studying Pure Land Buddhist scriptures, because he was truly out of options.

You can't exactly say, "Buddha doesn't save people; only people can save themselves."

After saying that, the mountain will be destroyed and the temple will be demolished.

Finally, the governor waved his hand, signaling the head monk to go back to his work.

He regained his composure.

He refused to believe that, having weathered so many storms, he could be stumped by such a hidden danger.

So far, it's just angina.

On the last day of the policy essay examination, the atmosphere in the entire examination hall reached its peak.

Thousands of candidates hunched over their desks, their pens sharp as knives, each burning the last of their talent, trying to leap forward in this fate-determining examination hall.

The sky above the examination hall is adorned with a five-tiered canopy of humanity and Confucian culture, as vast as the sea.

In the sea of ​​righteous energy, the phantoms of the ancient sages and philosophers were almost completely manifested—Confucius stood holding ritual implements, Mencius held bamboo slips and recited, Xunzi stood with his hands behind his back gazing at the sky... These sages' projections floated and sank in the literary atmosphere, enveloping the entire examination hall in a magnificent power of order.

At this moment, the Imperial Examination Hall was so domineering that it did not tolerate any dissent.

"what--!!"

A painful thud suddenly broke the solemnity.

Suddenly, Governor He clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground in the horrified gaze of the two examiners.

His face was ashen, cold sweat instantly soaked through his purple official robes, and his fingers gripped the fabric of his chest tightly, as if something was tearing at his heart.

"Quickly summon the imperial physician!" the deputy examiner exclaimed.

(End of this chapter)