Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

Qingxin Temple, a Taoist temple nestled at the foot of the western mountain of the city, which should have been a serene and secluded retreat, was now shrouded in an invisible tension and fear. Both inside and outside the temple gates, constables in official robes, wielding iron rulers and chains, stood guard, their sharp eyes scanning every corner. The Taoist priests and nuns who usually practiced quiet meditation were now gathered in the front hall square, their faces filled with bewilderment, heads bowed, barely daring to breathe, wondering what this sudden government siege was for.

The clattering of hooves grew louder as they approached, breaking the oppressive silence within the temple. Magistrate Zhang Jingwei rode a docile blue donkey, leisurely strolling through the temple gate, his demeanor remarkably relaxed, a stark contrast to the imposing and disciplined entourage behind him.

The group consisted of only a dozen or so men, yet each possessed an astonishing aura. They weren't dressed in the ordinary uniforms of yamen runners, but rather in dark, practical outfits, with purple woolen coats over them, tanned leather arm guards, and broad, sturdy belts around their waists. Their breastplates reflected a cold light in the thin autumn sunlight. Each man was robust and muscular, with eyes as sharp as hawks, hands on the hilts of their swords, their steps steady and silent—clearly the mark of a highly trained elite force. This was the "armed constables" that Zhang Jingwei had specially selected after taking office, sending the strongest and most capable constables to the army for months of rigorous training, specifically formed to deal with notorious bandits and criminals.

Zhang Jingwei, atop the donkey, surveyed the anxious Taoist followers. His gaze finally settled on a middle-aged Taoist who appeared to be a guest master. His tone was calm yet carried an undeniable authority: "I am Zhang Jingwei, the magistrate of Gaoyang County. Where is the Plum Blossom Taoist?"

The middle-aged Taoist priest hurriedly stepped forward, bowed, and said in a somewhat nervous voice, "Amitabha... Your Excellency, our abbot, Fairy Plum Blossom, has been traveling around for several months, comprehending the Great Dao, and has not yet returned. May I ask what business Your Excellency has with seeking the abbot?"

Zhang Jingwei chuckled softly and patted the donkey's neck: "Daoist Master, if I hadn't known she was nearby, I wouldn't have brought all these people here in such a grand manner. I represent the government and am apprehending a wanted criminal involved in several murder cases. Daoist Master is a person outside the secular world; surely you... are you also going to withhold information, becoming an accomplice to that criminal and obstructing the government's investigation?" His tone turned cold at the last sentence, his gaze sharp as lightning.

The middle-aged Taoist priest trembled with fear and waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no! How could I dare! But... but if the abbess has really returned, she has not informed anyone in the temple. We truly do not know where she is now! Please, Your Excellency, understand!"

"Oh? You don't know?" Zhang Jingwei remained noncommittal, his smile unchanged. "Then let me ask you another way. Within the boundaries of your Qingxin Temple, or rather, in the place where the abbot usually goes for quiet cultivation, is there a... solitary grave? Where someone who is not a member of your Taoist sect is buried?"

The middle-aged Taoist priest paused for a moment, thought for a moment, and hesitated before saying, "The Lonely Tomb... Now that you mention it, there is indeed such a place. It's deep in the bamboo forest behind the mountain, very secluded. It's... it's the grave of a female lay Buddhist, Lady Bai, who stayed at the temple many years ago. The abbot would occasionally go there to meditate."

“Madam Bai…” Zhang Jingwei nodded, his smile widening. “Please lead the way, Daoist.”

The solitary tomb was indeed remote. A narrow path, almost completely overgrown with weeds, wound its way up from behind the temple, through a desolate bamboo grove. The path grew narrower and steeper, strewn with jagged rocks, making it difficult for the donkey to walk. Zhang Jingwei dismounted, handed the reins to one of the guards, and led the donkey himself, trudging along with the Taoist priest. The guards silently spread out, forming a fan-shaped protective formation on either side, vigilantly observing the deep, dark woods around them.

After another short while, the bamboo grove ahead suddenly opened up, revealing a small clearing. In the center of the clearing stood an inconspicuous earthen grave, its simple stone tablet bearing the inscription "Tomb of the Believer Bai." At that moment, kneeling before the grave was the back of a female Taoist priestess dressed in a moon-white robe and wearing a lotus crown. Her back was to the group, and she appeared to be burning paper money; wisps of smoke rose, and the air was filled with the scent of sandalwood and burning yellow paper. She was softly chanting something, her voice carried on the breeze, indistinct.

Zhang Jingwei stopped, gesturing for everyone to wait. He straightened his robes, took a few steps forward, and stopped about three zhang away from the woman. He cleared his throat and said loudly:

"It is said that the Plum Blossom Taoist of Qingxin Temple is not only highly skilled in Taoism, but was also a renowned beauty in her youth. Today, I encountered her by chance in the mountains. Although I only saw her back, her graceful figure and refined demeanor were truly remarkable. Indeed, her reputation is well-deserved."

The female Taoist priest, who was burning paper, paused slightly. Then, a clear, ethereal voice, seemingly untouched by worldly concerns, rang out without her turning around:

"I thought Lord Zhang, having achieved early success and being a brilliant young man, would utter some profound and insightful pronouncements. But I never expected that his words would be nothing more than vulgar pronouncements that focus on outward appearances. How is he any different from those lecherous rogues in the world?" His tone was flat, yet carried a hint of barely perceptible sarcasm.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Jingwei was not angry at all. Instead, he burst into laughter, which echoed through the bamboo forest in the mountain valley: "Hahaha! Daoist, you are mistaken! Everyone has a love of beauty. I speak from the bottom of my heart, openly and honestly, and I am not afraid of being laughed at. It is much better than those who think in their hearts but speak with a sanctimonious air."

The Plum Blossom Taoist slowly threw the last piece of paper money into the fire, watching it turn to ashes, before slowly standing up and turning around.

What came into Zhang Jingwei's view was a well-maintained face, still retaining its charm. Her eyebrows were clear and bright, her nose straight, her lips slightly thin, and her skin fair. Time had etched fine lines around her eyes, but it hadn't diminished her unique beauty, a blend of ethereal grace and mature elegance. Especially striking were her eyes, clear and bright, seemingly able to see into one's heart, now calmly gazing at Zhang Jingwei.

"Lord Zhang," she began, her voice still cold, "are you... truly a good official?"

Zhang Jingwei met her gaze and said frankly, "Whether an official is good or bad is for the people to judge and for the historians to write. I, Zhang Jingwei, dare not boast. I only know that I am in a position to do my duty. I do my best to seek a clear conscience."

“Well said.” Plum Blossom Taoist nodded slightly, his gaze turning to the distant, layered mountains. “If you were a good official, you would be so persistent and go to such great lengths for a seemingly ordinary murder case in which the murderer has already confessed, even going so far as to… investigate this remote, secluded grave in the mountains.”

“Those who hold this position and eat its salary are all paid with the blood and sweat of the people,” Zhang Jingwei said solemnly. “As the official in charge of Gaoyang, I should speak up for the people, investigate the truth, restore justice for the wronged, and punish the lawbreakers. If I don’t serve the people, am I just going to waste my time sitting at the desk in the yamen or in the clay and wood sculptures in this Taoist temple?”

Plum Blossom Taoist looked at him quietly for a moment, a glimmer of light flashing in her eyes. She sighed softly, her gaze returning to Bai's tomb, her tone pleading: "Lord Zhang... could this humble Taoist burn a few more newly folded winter clothes for Bai's sister? The weather is getting colder, and she was always frail and afraid of the cold... it won't take much time."

Zhang Jingwei glanced at the solitary grave, then at the complex-looking female Taoist priest before him, and nodded: "Very well. I will wait here."

Plum Blossom Taoist said, "Then... could you please ask the lord to temporarily remove these officials from the surrounding area? When Bai Mei was alive, she loved peace and quiet and disliked noise. With so many living people surrounding her, I'm afraid she... wouldn't have a peaceful time."

Upon hearing this, Qian Ming, who had been standing guard with his hand on his knife behind Zhang Jingwei, couldn't help but step forward and said in a gruff voice, "Hey! You nun, don't be so shameless! Our young master respects you because you're a nun and is being polite to you! Don't you even open your eyes? We're surrounded by our people! We've got layers upon layers of them, like an iron barrel! Do you think you can escape alive, you woman? Just come back with us and ask us questions!"

"Qian Ming!" Zhang Jingwei frowned and hissed, "How dare you speak to the Taoist priest like that? Step back!" He turned to Plum Blossom Taoist, his tone returning to calm, "Taoist priest, please forgive my rudeness. We will wait outside the woods." With that, he turned to leave.

“Lord Zhang, please wait.” Plum Blossom Taoist suddenly spoke, his voice gentle. “If you don’t mind my humble status, you may stay. I… also have some things I would like to say to you privately.”

Zhang Jingwei paused, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, before smiling and saying, "Oh? I am honored by the invitation from the Daoist Master." He actually gestured for Qian Ming and the others to leave.

Qian Ming was extremely anxious and lowered his voice to persuade him, "Young Master! Wake up! In this desolate wilderness, what good intentions could a wanted criminal like her have for asking you to stay? What if she suddenly attacks and takes you hostage, then escapes using her familiarity with the terrain? All our hard work these past few days would be for nothing! Besides..." He glanced at Plum Blossom Taoist, lowering his voice even further, with a hint of mischief and worry, "Besides... Young Master, her style... isn't your usual kind! Don't be fooled by her otherworldly appearance!"

Zhang Jingwei was both amused and exasperated by Qian Ming's second half of the sentence. He kicked Qian Ming's shin in annoyance and said, "Go away! What's going on in your head! I'm staying for two reasons. First, I respect the wronged soul of Lady Bai. As the official in charge of Gaoyang, I can't sleep well tonight if I don't pay my respects at her grave. Second... I also want to hear what this Plum Blossom Taoist has to say."

Qian Ming clutched his leg, wincing in pain, wanting to persuade him further, but seeing Zhang Jingwei's resolute expression, he could only mutter helplessly, leading the elite troops to slowly retreat until they reached the edge of the bamboo forest. However, they didn't actually withdraw; instead, they quickly dispersed, taking up advantageous positions, bows and crossbows nocked, swords drawn half an inch from their sheaths, their eyes fixed intently on the two men in the center of the clearing, their defenses airtight, ensuring they could react instantly should anything change.

The autumn wind rustled through the bamboo grove, making the small clearing even more eerily quiet. The smoke from the grave lingered, the sandalwood incense still burned. Zhang Jingwei and the Plum Blossom Taoist stood facing each other; one, dressed in official robes, exuded a composed air; the other, in flowing Taoist robes, had deep, unfathomable eyes. A dialogue concerning several lives, a tragic moral dilemma, and the ultimate truth was about to unfold before this solitary grave.