The entire party traveled swiftly; the main road was smooth, and the carriage, luxurious as it was, managed to glide without a shudder—even at full speed, Li Muzhan inside remained perfectly steady.

The carriage interior was fashioned with lavish extravagance: walls carved and painted, the floor laid with thick, soft carpets; while outside the air was sharp and chilling, within it was warm as spring.

Across the front lay a ta (couch), spread with thick, soft bedding, and across the rear was another, upon which rested a small, exquisite square table holding a qin (zither), a set of Go pieces, and a teapot with matching cups.

Li Muzhan sat cross-legged on the front ta, motionless, practicing the Guan Tian Ren Shen Zhao Jing.

It was already dusk, the evening gloom settling, the wilds growing eerily silent.

General Hua rode ahead of the carriage, spurring his horse. Clad in a gray robe, his back was straight as a spear shaft, radiating vigorous military spirit while maintaining an air of refined elegance.

Ji Wuming rode up from the front, matching pace with General Hua, and said, “General, we missed our intended lodging for the night; we’ll have to stop somewhere outside.”

General Hua gazed into the distance where the broad avenue stretched out, enveloped by the twilight gloom as far as the eye could see. He nodded once. “Indeed. No matter; we’ll find a suitable place to rest.”

“There is a dilapidated temple five li ahead; it should shelter us,” Ji Wuming offered.

“We’ll go there then,” General Hua replied with a slight nod, glancing back toward the carriage.

Ji Wuming sighed. “I wonder how the Master is faring.”

General Hua said, “The Master is profound and inscrutable; he surely has a way.”

Ji Wuming managed a bitter smile. This was the Xue Xiang San (Snow Scent Powder); he hadn't heard of anyone surviving that poison before. ……………………

Leaving the main road, they entered a stretch of forest, beyond which rose a low hill. On the south slope of the hill stood a ruined temple. General Hua and his retinue passed through the trees and arrived at the structure. He surveyed it from horseback: the red wash of the outer walls was gone, the main gate was missing, and they could see directly into the courtyard, where weeds grew waist-high.

Ji Wuming asked, “General, what’s the situation?”

General Hua nodded. Ji Wuming waved his hand, and the guards immediately dismounted, splitting into several teams, knives drawn as they surged into the temple grounds. One group immediately began hacking away at the dense weeds.

After the time it takes to steep tea, a guard emerged. “General, no one inside.”

General Hua dismounted and entered the courtyard. Aside from the grass, the yard was spacious. There was only one structure: a main Hall of Buddha facing due north; no other buildings were visible—it was plain to see.

He stood at the foot of the steps, examining the place. The doors and windows were weathered and open, allowing a clear view inside.

In the center stood six colossal Buddha statues. In front of them, in two rows of nine statues each, stood the Eighteen Arhats, their postures varied—some angry, some stern, some standing, some seated—each expression distinct. The floor was paved with blue bricks. The statues were incredibly old, blackened with age, yet the surrounding area was remarkably neat; the ground looked swept clean.

General Hua looked up. A horizontal plaque hung overhead, its calligraphy blurred. He managed to make out the characters: “Da Feng Temple” (Great Wind Temple). The style was ancient, bearing no discernible mark of high artistry.

A guard commented, “General, this place is a bit strange. It’s clearly empty, yet it’s so clean!”

Ji Wuming’s face shifted. “Is that so?” He looked around, his eyes sharp, his expression commanding.

……………………

General Hua studied it for a moment, then shook his head. “Never mind. Even if someone is here, they arrived first. We’re the ones taking advantage of their place.”

Ji Wuming frowned. “General, what if it’s an assassin... We must be cautious!” The memory of the previous assassination attempt still sent a chill down his spine; if the Master hadn't risked his own life to save them, none of them would have survived.

General Hua chuckled. “Oh, an assassin? So they’d set up an ambush here in advance, and then take the time to sweep the Buddha Hall? Hmm—?”

Ji Wuming offered a wry, helpless smile. “Very well, we’ll stay here. I’ll go fetch the Master…”

“Go ahead,” General Hua nodded.

He walked slowly, hands clasped behind his back, studying the eighteen Arhat statues. Though darkened, upon closer inspection, he sensed their profound quality—so lifelike they seemed ready to spring forward. He wondered whose hands had crafted them, only to be abandoned in this desolate place. What a pity!

Li Muzhan entered quietly, his gray monk's robe fluttering. His face held a faint grayish pallor, his expression serene and composed.

Ji Wuming followed him, holding two purple kneeling cushions in his left hand, which he placed beneath the larger Buddha statues. General Hua sat on one cushion, and Li Muzhan sat on the other.

The twilight deepened, and the light inside the hall grew dim.

Ji Wuming searched but couldn't find a lamp, so he went out and returned with four torches, setting them in holders around the room. Instantly, the hall was brightly illuminated.

“Master, it seems someone else is here. Is that correct?” General Hua asked with a smile.

Li Muzhan smiled and nodded, raising a hand to point toward the back. “Inside the Buddha statues.”

General Hua’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “I wonder which esteemed presence is here. Pray, show yourself,” he called out courteously.

Ji Wuming and the others immediately tensed, surrounding the two men, glaring watchfully at the statues.

The statues remained still, broken only by the crackle of the torches and the deep, measured breaths of the guards. The atmosphere in the hall suddenly grew taut, so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

Li Muzhan shook his head and closed his eyes. General Hua cupped his hands. “We mean no harm. We are merely passing through and request shelter for the night. If we have caused any offense, we ask for your forgiveness.”

Still, there was no movement from behind the statues, as if truly no one was there. Yet, no one doubted the presence; they simply stared fixedly at the statues, unmoving.

After waiting a moment, Ji Wuming grumbled, “General, this person is so rude! I’ll go drag him out!...”

General Hua waved his hand to stop him. “If they prefer not to show their face, we shouldn’t force them. Little Ji, I see a pot outside; prepare some porridge for everyone.”

“Yes, General!” Ji Wuming gave a glance toward Li Muzhan, reluctantly bowed, and waved his hand.

Li Muzhan slightly lowered his eyelids, appearing already deep in meditation. Seeing this, Ji Wuming relaxed; if this hidden person truly harbored ill intent toward the General, the Master surely would have perceived it.

The others dispersed back to their posts, though they subtly kept to the vicinity of the statues, guarding the rear of Li Muzhan and General Hua against any sneak attacks.

Ji Wuming led a few men out to start making the porridge.

General Hua shook his head, smiling faintly, and pulled out a book to read.

Outside in the courtyard, a small fire was lit, and an iron pot was set over it. A unique, savory aroma began to drift into the main hall in slender wisps, making mouths water.

A short while later, Ji Wuming returned, delighted. “General, Master, we managed to take down two muntjacs! We can stew them right in!” He knew Li Muzhan did not abstain from meat.

General Hua said, “Serve two bowls for us, and the rest is yours!”

“Aye aye!” Ji Wuming responded and left, fetched two large, fine bowls from the carriage, filled them to the brim by the iron pot, and carried them into the hall.

General Hua pointed, and Ji Wuming placed the two bowls of porridge before him.

General Hua examined them, nodded, then turned with a smile toward Li Muzhan. “Master, time to eat?”

Just then, a distinct gurgling sound suddenly emanated from behind the Buddha statues.

General Hua chuckled heartily and turned. “Esteemed guest, please join us for a meal. We offer you a bowl of porridge as a small token of our hospitality.”

Amidst the faint rustling of cloth, a small, slight figure flashed out from behind the statues and landed softly, clapping his hands once, about ten feet away from General Hua and Li Muzhan.

Two guards immediately stepped forward, swords half-drawn, positioning themselves between the General and the Master.

The short man looked sickly, his face sallow, but his eyes were surprisingly bright and lively. He wore a plain blue robe that was perfectly spotless and neat. His frame was slight, making him appear fragile, as if a strong wind might carry him away.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said, cupping his hands. His voice was low, soft, and carried a pleasing resonance.

General Hua waved the two guards back, secretly filled with surprise. This person possessed an unusual bearing, subtly radiating an air of command—his background must be significant; ordinary men could not cultivate such composure.

“If you don’t mind, please eat with us!” General Hua called out, gesturing toward the doorway. “Little Ji, bring another cushion!”

Ji Wuming agreed, quickly fetched a purple cushion, and placed it before the General. The small man glanced briefly at General Hua, gave a slight nod, and sat down with ease.

…………………………

He swept his gaze over the closed eyes of Li Muzhan and asked lightly, “Are you soldiers of the Shen Guang Battalion?”

General Hua nodded. “Precisely.”

Ji Wuming brought another bowl of porridge and placed it before General Hua, then stood by the door, refusing to leave, staring intently at the young man. He realized that if this person’s face weren’t so yellowed, he would be quite handsome—delicate features, clear brows—but alas, he appeared consumptive, his appeal dimmed.

The small man paid no mind to the surrounding stares. “I heard the Shen Guang Battalion won a great victory?”

Ji Wuming nodded proudly. “That is correct! It was our General who commanded the battalion to a major triumph!”

“So you are General Hua. My apologies for my disrespect!” The small man cupped his hands and bowed formally.

General Hua returned the gesture with a smile. “You jest. I dare not take the credit; this great victory was bought with the lives of all the soldiers. I contributed very little!”

The small man smiled faintly. “General Hua is too modest. Folk legends say you are eight chi tall, with a waist like a barrel, hands like palm-leaf fans, and a lion-like nose and mouth. I never expected you to look like this!”

“Haha, interesting…” General Hua laughed. He took a large sip of porridge, then turned to Li Muzhan with a smile. “The flavor is quite good, Master. Please try some.”

Li Muzhan slowly opened his eyes, inclined his head toward the small man, then picked up his bowl. After a light sip, he smiled and offered a few words of praise.

Ji Wuming puffed out his chest. “Master, Little Chang’s cooking is a family legacy, rivaling the chefs at the Wine Immortal tavern, especially his porridge!” The Wine Immortal was one of the premier restaurants in Shen Guang City, known for its exquisite food.

Li Muzhan spoke a few pleasantries and finished his bowl quickly. Ji Wuming solicitously asked if he wanted another, but Li Muzhan waved his hand.

Only after he finished drinking did the small man begin to drink. The porridge seemed to melt on his tongue, a flavor of pure meat mixed with a delicate fragrance—truly exquisite. He remained outwardly composed, though curiosity stirred within. His bright eyes flickered occasionally as he secretly scrutinized Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan suddenly looked at the small man. “Miss, there are people chasing you, aren’t there?”

“You...?” The small man started, his bright eyes flickered, and then he nodded. “How did you know I am a woman disguised as a man?”

Li Muzhan shook his head. “We all knew. We simply chose not to mention it...” He paused. “Four people have arrived outside. Are they the ones pursuing you?”

“Hmph, it’s them!…” Her voice instantly changed, becoming rounded and soft—it was clearly the voice of a young woman. “I’ll take my leave first, to avoid implicating you all!”

Saying this, she set down her bowl, stood up, and prepared to depart.