As Xu Fengnian and the young maiden left the grand hall, they encountered a pair of young immortals—a man with a saber and a woman with a sword, both exuding an aura of righteousness.
Outside the temple, two majestic horses were tethered to an ancient tree, nuzzling each other affectionately, as if they too were a couple.
Xu Baozhao glanced back at the temple’s towering walls and suddenly asked, “What do you think those young heroes and fairies were praying to the Bodhisattva for? Love?”
Xu Fengnian replied casually, “I’d guess they were praying for safety.”
Xu Baozhao let out an “Oh,” seemingly distracted, and asked, “Why?”
Xu Fengnian answered half-seriously, “They carried a murderous aura.”
Xu Baozhao’s eyes instantly lit up. “I’ve heard that chivalrous folk in the martial world love to clash with three types of people—lecherous villains, corrupt officials, and demonic cultists. Should we tail them and join the fun?”
Xu Fengnian strode away. “Let me teach you a lesson: to survive long in the martial world, don’t be too curious, don’t meddle in others’ affairs, and don’t be too righteous.”
Xu Baozhao scoffed. “A fine martial world it is, tainted by shrewd people like you who always prioritize self-preservation! No wonder some complain that the martial world these days is far less interesting than it was during the Yonghui and Xiangfu eras.”
Xu Fengnian said calmly, “In a few years, someone else will say that the martial world back then wasn’t as thrilling as it is now. People always glorify the past and belittle the present—it’s an age-old habit.”
Xu Baozhao huffed, “Whatever words or wisdom come from your mouth are like bland food soaked in water—utterly tasteless!”
Xu Fengnian clasped his hands behind his back and said leisurely, “The finest flavor in life is simplicity, little girl. You wouldn’t understand.”
Xu Baozhao mimicked his posture, hands behind her back, and stuck out her tongue at his retreating figure. “Oh, you’re the wisest, old man!”
Xu Fengnian merely smiled.
The autumn air was crisp, blending the mist from the lake with the fragrance of grass and trees, refreshing the soul.
Xu Baozhao quickened her pace to walk beside Xu Fengnian, then sidestepped like a crab to face him. “Do you know the three realms of observing water and listening to sounds?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “I only know martial artists have four realms in the first rank.”
Ignoring him, the girl continued, “Observing water has three realms. First, watching mighty rivers surging to the sea, unstoppable and awe-inspiring.”
Xu Fengnian remained expressionless.
She went on, “Next, observing lakes and mountain streams, flowing gently like a person transitioning from youth to maturity. Finally, gazing at well water—stillness born from motion.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “Profound. I’ve learned something.”
The girl beamed. “As the ancients say, ‘A single conversation with a wise man is worth ten years of study.’ Think about it—ten years of schooling would cost a fortune! So, consider the money you lent me for incense repaid!”
Xu Fengnian reminded her, “Don’t say ‘buy.’ Say ‘offer.'”
The girl eyed him skeptically. “Is that really a rule?”
Xu Fengnian said slowly, “Believe it or not. Sincerity brings blessings.”
After some thought, she decided to file this away in her mental ledger. Still walking sideways, she studied his profile—her delicate features like the flowing sleeves of a celestial maiden on a temple mural. “Then do you know the three realms of listening to sounds?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “I only know a scholar from the previous dynasty once said the most beautiful sound in the world is a young girl selling apricot blossoms in an alley.”
The girl wagged a finger. “Wrong! The flower seller’s call is only the second realm. The highest should be the cicada’s song—after firecrackers and flower sellers, the three progress from joy to sorrow.”
Xu Fengnian suddenly halted and turned to gaze at the temple, murmuring to himself, “The autumn wind strips the world of green, leaving withered branches and the mournful cry of cicadas. The first realm—people find it noisy. The second—they call it sorrowful. The third—they revere it as a song… When injustice stirs, the cicada sings, lending its voice to the world…”
Xu Baozhao fell silent.
Xu Fengnian sighed and turned back toward the ancient temple.
Xu Baozhao asked, “Did you forget something?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “Anywhere else, I wouldn’t care. But this is a sacred place. Since we’re here, we can’t just stand by while blood is spilled.”
Xu Baozhao gasped. “A bloodbath in the temple? Are those two heroes dispensing justice?”
Xu Fengnian sighed. “We’ll see.”
The next moment, Xu Baozhao felt the familiar sensation of soaring through the air. When she opened her eyes, she found herself half-cradled in his arms as he perched on a thick branch of an old locust tree, overlooking the temple courtyard below.
She struggled violently. Xu Fengnian frowned. “Stay still if you want to watch. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”
Furious, she opened her mouth to curse him, but he covered it and gestured toward the commotion below.
Inside the temple courtyard, blades and swords flashed outside the main hall. The young swordsman and swordswoman stood back-to-back, their clothes stained with blood—some their own, some their enemies’.
So far, no one had died.
The monks and novices had long retreated, fearing stray strikes.
A burly armored officer stood outside the encirclement, flanked by rows of archers. “Not just here—outside, Commander Gao has sent fifty elite cavalry from Fulong County. Surrender now, and I’ll ensure your charges are reduced!”
The elegant swordswoman tightened her grip on her hilt. “A petty fourth-rank magistrate dares mobilize troops for personal vendettas? You think I’d believe your lies?”
The officer smirked, his gaze lingering on her figure. “This dispute has nothing to do with you, Miss Liu. Why throw away your family’s legacy?”
She spat, “I’d rather be foolish than serve corrupt officials like you!”
The officer sighed, his expression darkening with pity and desire. He turned to the young scholar beside her. “Wang Fumi, you’re accused of being a remnant of the Zhulushan cult. Come quietly.”
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