Nightfall

In the autumn rain, Ning Que seemed to be praying sincerely, but was in fact grimly threatening the Buddha stone statue on the top of the Wa Mountain. However, he was clearly aware that the Buddha had long been dead and it was the Master Qishan in the Wa Mountain that knew how to cure Sangsang. In the next day, therefore, he took Sangsang to the Wa Mountain along the mountain path in the black carriage.

The mountain path behind the temple was still quiet and the pagoda trees along the path remained wet. There were traces left behind by carriage wheels on the smooth road surface.

Sitting by the window, Ning Que looked at the tracks left on the mountain road with knitted brows. He thought about how the Yulan Convention was to be held a few days later in the Lanke Temple, so the diplomatic corps from different countries or the world of cultivation should be in the Lanke Temple, if they wanted to discuss the southward movement of the Desolate Men or the Underworld Invasion. But why were there so many carriages heading for the Wa Mountain?

Naturally, he thought of the noble from the South Jin Kingdom, whom he had met yesterday morning in the Lanke Temple. He could easily guess who he was at that point. The person who could be accompanied by a powerhouse at the Knowing Destiny State from the Sword Garret must be the Crown Prince, if not the Emperor of the South Jin Kingdom. But he wondered what these people from the South Jin Kingdom were doing there in the Wa Mountain.

The monk, Guan Hai, appeared once again under the big pagoda tree. He saluted the carriage with one hand and said with a smile, "I thought Senior Brother Thirteen would arrive earlier."

Ning Que got off the carriage to return the salute and asked in a seemingly casual manner, "Are there already a lot of people?"

"Indeed," Guan Hai replied.

"I don’t understand what that means," Ning Que asked.

Guan Hai was slightly taken aback, realizing that Ning Que did not know what his teacher coming out of retreat meant to the world. So he carefully explained that every time Master Qishan did so, he would choose a fated person to answer his questions or to indicate the direction of his life.

It was not unfamiliar to hear about Buddhist masters enlightening believers since there were quite a lot of stories about it. However, Master Qishan was not an ordinary Buddhist master in the eyes of the world; what he had said to the chosen people when coming out of retreat, several times over the past decades, all had become a reality.

It seemed to prove that the Elder Qishan could predict the future, which was even more amazing than the Great Divine Priest of Revelation in the West-Hill Divine Palace, almost like the tale of Buddha who could always satisfy all demands. It was no wonder why the world became crazy about him.

After the murder in the Lanke Temple, the Elder Qishan retired from public life for a number of years, probably because he was sad about the viciousness of his old friend Lotus, or was afraid of the blood in front of the Temple. The news that the Master was going to come out of seclusion naturally became a great matter even in the world of cultivation. All the cultivators, including the high officials and the noble lords from different countries who were attending the Yue Laan Hungry Ghost Festival went to the Wa Mountain without hesitation, to see whether they could get the opportunity to be the next destined person for the Master.

It was only then when Ning Que came to know that the name, the Elder of the Lanke Temple, had such meaning for the world. All of a sudden, a melodious bell was heard from the Lanke Temple in front of the mountain, when he was going to say something.

It was common to hear the morning bell and the evening drum in the Buddhist temple. But he was surprised at the second bell after the first bell in the morning to convene the morning class.

As a monk in the temple, Guan Hai heard more messages from the bell and his expression changed slightly.

"What is it?" Ning Que asked.

"We have some guests from afar," Guan Hai said, "The abbot uses the bell to ask me to receive them."

"Then you’d better go now," Ning Que said.

Guan Hai really appreciated it. He sincerely apologized to Ning Que and bowed to Sangsang through the window before he left hurriedly.

Looking at the back of the young monk on the mountain path, Ning Que raised his brows slightly in silence. Then he sat on the cushion in the front of the carriage, lightly kicked the Big Black Horse’s hip, and said, "Go."

The Big Black Horse felt a bit sleepy for he was catching autumn grasshoppers till late into the night in the Temple. After being kicked by Ning Que, he gathered his energy and pranced toward the Wa mountain.

In the midst of the rumble made by the wheels, Sangsang said with some anxiety, "It must be a big shot."

Ning Que had long known that the visitor who could arouse a solemn call of the Lanke Temple and the reception of Guan Hai must be of extraordinary origin. However, no matter how self-abased he was, with some narcissism and joy he had to admit an undeniable fact:

There was no other person in the world whose sect could be more powerful than his. To put it simply, no matter where he came from, the visitor who aroused the bell could never have a more powerful background.

That was why he was curious about who the guest was and why Guan Hai had chosen to leave him for the other. Hearing the anxiety in Sangsang’s words, he felt funny and confused since Sangsang never cared about such things.

Sangsang whispered,"When Master Qishan comes out of seclusion, he will only choose one destined person to answer his questions. Today, the Wa mountain has seen so many people coming, among them lots of bigwigs. I wonder whether the Master will choose me as the destined person and cure my disease."

Ning Que said with a smile, "To be the destined person for a hundred-year-old monk? Forget it. It’s enough to be my destined one. As for the others, you do not need to worry about them."

Sangsang opened the front door of the carriage, looking at his profile, and said, "I worry that you have to compete with many people like what you did in our childhood, or when you entered the Second Floor of the Academy."

"Who would dare to compete with us? Even if a madman who is not afraid of death really beats us, will the Old Monk dare not to heal you? Besides, he has built a friendship with the Academy when he learned from the Headmaster. I come from the Academy with the Great Spirit while you come from the Divine Hall with the Haotian Divine Light. With the the personal letter written by my teacher, there is nothing in our way. He has to cure you regardless of his own ideas."

The carriage drove along the peaceful mountain path; the sound of the wheels rolling on the slightly damp path was soft. Rather, Ning Que’s disrespectful voice toward the Wa mountain drifted among the branches of the locust trees and other autumn trees, lingering for quite a long time.

...

...

The mountains were gentle, so the carriage was easy to drive on the mountain roads. But the distance between the two places became a little bit longer. When the morning fog cleared and the autumn sun emerged on the top of the trees, the black carriage arrived at the Jumping Tiger Stream.

The Jumping Tiger Stream had been a very famous scenic spot in the Wa mountain in those years. However, with more and more old monks choosing to live here in seclusion, the Lanke Temple monks made the Wa mountain’s access more strict. It would only be randomly opened for a while each year. Since it was closed in recent days, there were no tourists by the stream.

But no tourists did not mean that there weren’t any visitors.

Across the stone bridge over the stream, there were dense autumn woods. On this side of the bridge, a large green tree was standing on the vast stone region, under which was a small stone table.

Under the big green tree gathered a dozen people; some standing, some whispering, others keeping silent. Through the cracks among the crowd, an old monk in yellow monk’s robes could be vaguely seen playing chess.

The black carriage stopped a distance away from the tree. Taking a glance from the distance, Ning Que sensed the aura, strong or light, in those people. So he was sure that they were cultivators from different sects.

Most people around the stone table under the tree focused on the game, while some were talking respectfully to a young noble in expensive clothes.

It was the noble from the South Jin Kingdom that Ning Que had met in the Lanke Temple yesterday morning. He was not surprised at the scene since he had guessed who he was. However, he just felt somewhat emotional when he thought that the ordinary cultivators in the world, who had no hope of achieving Taoism would have to end up devoting themselves to the imperial family, although they had cultivated for half their lives.

However, when he caught the sight of the familiar figure under a row of emerald green bamboos, dozens of feet away from the big green tree, he could not help the regret that he felt for the cultivators directing unto himself.

It was obvious that although many cultivators intended to approach the maiden under the bamboos, all they dared to do was to salute from afar out of reverence or other reasons.

So the maiden was just standing alone under the green bamboos.

She was as lonely and strong as a bamboo.

However, to Ning Que, she was just as vulnerable.

Having not met her for over a year, he found her much thinner than before.