By now, the rain had ceased, and the sky was clear. The earthy fragrance of soil lingered in the courtyard. The bright, cloudless sky allowed Ji Chun to take in the layout of the courtyard with ease. He entered by turning left from the gate. Against the east wall was a vegetable patch, and beside it, a small enclosure housed a few chickens. In the southeast corner stood a thatched hut, while a modest kitchen was built against the west wall. At this moment, the old couple was bustling about.
"Dashi, are you awake?" the old woman called out as she emerged from the kitchen, greeting him with a warm smile. A devout Buddhist who had chanted Buddha's name for years, she valued first impressions deeply. Ji Chun's serious and upright demeanor naturally earned her trust.
"Amitabha, I must apologize for intruding into your home last night," Ji Chun said, his voice tinged with guilt and shame as he faced the kind old woman. Rarely had he acted so impulsively, but the circumstances the previous night had been dire.
"Ha ha, it's no trouble at all. How is your friend?" the old woman asked, recalling that he hadn't come alone.
"My friend was caught in the rain last night and has caught a cold. I came to ask if you might have any medicine to spare," Ji Chun replied, bowing respectfully.
"Ah! Husband, didn't you have some herbs left from your cold a few days ago? Are they in the second box in the inner cabinet?" the old woman called out to the kitchen. Hearing the old man's muffled "Yes," she turned back to Ji Chun with a smile. "I'll fetch them for you."
A moment later, she returned with a small bag of herbs. "I'll boil the medicine for the Dashi," she offered.
Ji Chun quickly stepped forward, flustered. "Please, benefactor, don't trouble yourself. If you could lend me a pot and stove, I'll prepare it myself."
"It's no trouble at all. We haven't had guests in years, so it's a joy to have you here. Breakfast is ready—why don't you take some rice to your friend?" The old woman gently pushed aside Ji Chun's arm as he tried to assist her, her smile radiant. She seemed genuinely delighted to have visitors.
Unable to insist further, Ji Chun thanked her and entered the kitchen. The old man had already placed the rice on a plate and handed it to him with trembling hands, avoiding eye contact. He appeared timid, even fearful.
"I'm truly sorry for the trouble I caused last night," Ji Chun said sincerely, bowing his head in apology.
"N-no, it's fine, Dashi. Please, take the meal to your friend," the old man stammered, still visibly uneasy. After speaking, he turned back to his bowl of porridge.
Reluctantly, Ji Chun took the food and walked to the door of the west wing, where they had stayed the previous night. He knocked gently and, upon hearing Su Ran's faint "Come in," pushed the door open. Su Ran was already dressed in the clean clothes Ji Chun had left for him the night before, leaning weakly against the bed with his eyes closed. When Ji Chun entered, he opened his eyes slightly and asked in a nasal voice, "Where are we?"
Ji Chun set the bowl on the small table beside the bed and sat on a low stool. "Last night, you were caught in the rain and fainted. I brought you here in a hurry. Fortunately, we met these kind elders who let us stay the night and even prepared breakfast for us."
"Oh," Su Ran replied indifferently. He had been alone in the room earlier, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. Though the details were hazy, he remembered the monk buying him clothes in the afternoon. He couldn't recall why he had become so angry, even getting into a fight with the monk. After that, he had gone out to drink, and then the rain had come... What had happened this morning?
Ji Chun glanced at the dazed man, noticing the porridge growing cold. "Sect Leader Su, the rice is getting cold," he reminded him.
Su Ran shot him a sideways glance but said nothing provocative. Slowly, he picked up the bowl and began to eat. The two sat in silence.
After the meal, Ji Chun collected their bowls and was about to leave when Su Ran spoke up from the bed, his voice listless. "I'm feeling tired today. We'll set off tomorrow." With that, he turned over and fell asleep.
Assuming the man was still recovering from the cold and needed rest, Ji Chun decided not to disturb him. He brought in the medicine later and made sure Su Ran drank it. Throughout the day, he helped the old couple with chores and chanted scriptures for the old man. That night, the couple prepared a guest room for him to rest.
The next morning, the two packed their belongings and bid farewell to the old couple. Before leaving, Su Ran left a few banknotes on the table, a gesture that made Ji Chun glance at him several times. As they passed the inn, Ji Chun retrieved their luggage. Neither mentioned the events of that day, and though their relationship seemed to return to its usual aloofness, they had grown accustomed to each other's presence.
Aware of Su Ran's recent illness and his pregnancy, Ji Chun deliberately slowed their pace. After half a month of travel, they arrived in Lingcheng, the territory of Liuyun Manor. Once one of the eight major sects, Liuyun Manor had transformed into a prosperous business under the leadership of the old manor owner's three sons after his passing. Its ties to the martial world had weakened over the years.
During their journey, Ji Chun kept a close eye on Su Ran's growing belly. The man's waistline had become more pronounced, his thin frame now at odds with the noticeable bulge. Fortunately, his loose clothing masked the oddity. It seemed he was about three months along.
As they entered the mausoleum, they felt as though they had stepped into a place of abundance and peace. The street vendors were busy yet orderly, and the road was filled with a steady stream of pedestrians and carriages. The people they passed were dressed in bright, elegant clothing, and beggars and orphans were a rare sight. The local customs were relatively civilized, with women wearing bold, revealing outfits and exuding cheerful, lively personalities. They lingered in the streets and alleys, unbothered by public attention, and no one found it unusual.
It was now afternoon, and the streets buzzed with activity. The city was clearly a thriving hub for commerce, offering an array of novel sights. The two travelers were in no rush to find an inn, choosing instead to stroll and take in the scenery. The place had a distinct charm, different from the Central Plains, and it all felt refreshingly new.
"My purse! Stop Him!" Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the air, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. A short, nimble man was sprinting through the crowd, clutching a purse in his hand. Despite knocking into several pedestrians, no one could catch him. The purse's owner, a woman, was already out of breath, her face flushed from the chase and her eyes filled with anxiety and regret.
As the thief dashed past Ji Chun, he bumped into him, causing Ji Chun to stagger slightly. Hearing the woman's cry, Ji Chun activated his Qinggong and swiftly caught up to the thief. He grabbed him firmly, but the thief struggled fiercely, nearly tearing his clothes in the process. By the time the woman caught up, Su Ran had also approached, though he lingered at the edge of the crowd, his expression cold and indifferent. He sneered inwardly at Ji Chun's meddling, cursing the monk for his habit of interfering in others' affairs.
Ji Chun held the thief's hands behind his back, retrieved the purse, and handed it to the woman. His face remained as serious and solemn as ever. "Thank you, Dashi! Thank you!" the woman exclaimed, quickly opening the purse to check its contents. Relieved to find nothing missing, she burst into tears of gratitude, thanking Ji Chun profusely before turning to scold the thief. "You shameless thief! I'll take you to the authorities!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. "Yes! Take him to the officials!" they chanted. Only Su Ran's contemptuous sneer stood out, unnoticed by most.
The thief, now in tears, pleaded pitifully, "Please, Dashi, I know I was wrong! I'll never do it again! But I had no choice—my mother has been bedridden for half a month, and the doctor refused to treat her without payment..." His sobs grew louder as he recounted his hardships.
Ji Chun, moved by the thief's story, hesitated. "Don't do this again," he said sternly but with a hint of compassion.
"Yes, yes, Dashi! I promise I won't!" the thief cried, nodding fervently.
Ji Chun glanced at the woman, who was still fuming but said nothing to stop him. After a moment's hesitation, he released the thief. "Go," he said quietly.
"Thank you, Dashi!" the thief muttered through gritted teeth, his head bowed. But as he turned to leave, a triumphant smirk flashed across his face. In a sudden move, he shoved Ji Chun from behind and threw a handful of white powder into his face. While Ji Chun staggered back, covering his eyes in pain, the thief lunged at the woman, snatching her purse once more and attempting to flee.
Su Ran, who had been watching from the crowd, moved instantly. He appeared beside Ji Chun just as the thief struck, but he was too late to prevent the attack. Seeing the white powder scattered across Ji Chun's face, Su Ran's expression darkened. His eyes burned with a cold, bloodthirsty fury as he turned to the thief, who now seemed like a dead man walking.
Without hesitation, Su Ran raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick to the thief's chest. The force sent the man flying two meters backward. The thief collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest and coughing up blood, unable to move. The crowd gasped in shock, their cheers replaced by stunned silence. No one had expected the beautiful, seemingly carefree Su Ran to act with such ruthless decisiveness. The stark contrast left them momentarily speechless.
Ji Chun coughed violently, his eyes burning from the powder, covered his face and lowered his head, enduring the pain. He sensed Su Ran's presence beside him and heard the crowd's exclamations, followed by the thief's cries of agony. Though he couldn't see, he vaguely understood what had happened. For now, he remained silent, focusing on the searing pain in his eyes.