He Lan Tianxia

That night, the little boy didn't return until very late, and the old man was restless. As night fell, Murong Junlan couldn't stay still any longer. He brought a bowl of the food Jiang He had cooked to the old man and sincerely said:

"Senior, please feel free to ask if there is anything I can help you with."

The old man remained silent for a long time before uttering three words: "Anqiao Temple".

Murong Junlan: "How far?"

The old man said, "It's five miles to the east, on a big mountain."

"Five li?" Murong Junlan found it hard to believe that the little boy was going to such a far place, and that the old man was comfortable letting him go alone.

The old man took out a small wooden goldfish from his sleeve and handed it to Murong Junlan, saying, "If he sees this, he will come back with you. His name is Xiao Yezi."

"Don't worry, sir, I'll be off now." Murong Junlan said, turning to leave. The old man called after him:

"Bring one more person with you."

Murong Junlan reassured the old man, "Don't worry. If you need anything, just call them and they'll come. I'll take my leave now."

Murong Junlan dared not delay. He had originally intended to bring Lingyi along, but considering the presence of the pale-faced scholar and the innkeeper, he feared Jiang Heluoxie might not be able to handle it, so he set off alone. Everything around him was hidden in the inky black sky. There was no wind tonight, and the stillness was somewhat eerie. Even the large moon that had just risen in the east seemed devoid of warmth. Murong Junlan ran along the dirt road, passing a few houses scattered at intervals, their dim kerosene lamps flickering faintly.

At a roadside house, Murong Junlan knocked on the slightly ajar wooden door. An old man wearing a felt hat came out. He seemed to be hard of hearing, and Murong Junlan had to ask him several times, but he couldn't understand. After a long time, he finally managed to get a clear answer. Murong Junlan wanted to know about Anqiao Temple, but as soon as he heard "Anqiao Temple," the old man shrank back and went back inside, and the door wouldn't open again. Murong Junlan then realized that Anqiao Temple was a place they dared not speak of here. Having no other choice, he had to follow the path the old man had given him.

About five li away, Murong Junlan saw a large mountain, tall and densely forested. Strangely, only this mountain was covered in trees; the others were bare, like a monk's head, while this mountain resembled a young girl's long, lush hair. A narrow mountain path, only wide enough for a single carriage, stretched out on either side, overgrown with rampant, untamed grass and cypress trees. Just as Murong Junlan was about to continue up the path, several monks suddenly came running down the mountain.

The monks didn't notice Murong Junlan; they were busy talking: "Do you think the abbot really fainted or was he faking it?"

One of the monks replied, "Is there any doubt about that? The abbot himself said to everyone to keep the news under wraps."

Another monk said, "Didn't he faint once before? He still woke up in the end."

Another monk said, "Last time you only said you were dizzy, not that you were dizzy to death."

Another monk added, "How can we say for sure? In short, we'll play it by ear and slip away when necessary. Nobody wants to get involved in this mess."

"Shh, keep your voice down, is someone there?" The monk behind nudged the monk in front.

The monk in front, unconvinced, pushed it back, saying, "Are you looking for death? This person is scary enough to kill you."

"Slap, slap!" One of the monks suddenly patted the other two on the shoulder twice, startling them so much that they screamed. One of them angrily said, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I think I have a feeling someone is there."

"Where? Where?" The group stood back to back, looking around. The darkness and the shadows cast by the trees only amplified their terror. After circling around a few times, they scattered and fled for their lives.

Murong Junlan didn't intend to alert the others. He followed the scent left by the group and headed up the mountain. Halfway up the mountain, several more monks appeared, carrying buckets of water. However, they didn't seem to be going to fetch water; rather, they were discussing how to use the opportunity to escape.

Murong Junlan ignored the group. He felt something serious must have happened on the mountain, and it wasn't just a simple matter of the abbot fainting. Just as Murong Junlan was about to question them, a dart suddenly whistled and struck the tree where he was hiding. Then he heard someone shout loudly:

"There are assassins."