The next day, Tian Hua stepped out of his dwelling, feeling somewhat reinvigorated yet still battling nausea from downing yet another watery congee for breakfast. With the intention of delving deeper into the subject brought up by Chen Shu, he apprised Xiang Jun of his impending departure to which he wore a look of genuine curiosity regarding his intentions.

“Are you going to exorcize that man, Teacher?” he inquired.

“No, at least not yet,” answered Tian Hua and cast a brief glance around, but didn’t spot any of the other disciples. “Where are the others?”

Xiang Jun averted his gaze slightly, his voice becoming subtly smaller. “Senior Brother Yang and Senior Sister Long went into the village for some reason. I don’t know.”

Tian Hua discerned from Xiang Jun’s body language that he, in fact, knew the reasons for both their absences. However, he chose not to delve further into the matter. As long as everyone maintained their discretion and the disciples harbored no resentments, Tian Hua remained content. The current trajectory, marked by Chen Shu’s commitment to supply the herbs and the unexpected emergence of his artificial core, seemed to herald a return to the monotonous, but very normal life Tian Hua had once known.

As Tian Hua nodded and casually picked up a walking stick, heading towards the stairs, Xiang Jun suddenly spoke up. “Teacher, if you don’t mind, may I… um… take care of tidying up your room while you’re away?”

Tian Hua turned his head and hummed thoughtfully. Is there anything of importance that’s kept hidden in any of the rooms? I don’t think so…?

“Feel free to do whatever you like,” he replied, and Xiang Jun’s face immediately brightened as he bowed.

Xiang Jun observed Tian Hua’s gradual descent down the stairs, his hands tensely clenching and releasing. As the echo of Tian Hua’s footsteps faded into silence, the disciple cautiously advanced towards his teacher’s abode.

With a final glance around, Xiang Jun gingerly placed his fingers on the door handle and, ensuring no one was watching, silently entered the dwelling.

. . . . .

Now that I’m here, I don’t even know where to start….

Tian Hua had managed to make his way into Qingfeng, albeit with some difficulty and gasping for breath. He still felt somewhat unsteady on his legs, but he was confident that a brief respite would help him recover.

Come morning, the village buzzed with activity. Residents bustled about, and the market began to stir back to life. Some eateries were in the midst of preparations to open their doors, while others had already commenced serving their initial patrons. What better means to glean information than engaging in conversation with the villagers, who likely knew the latest gossip?

Holding his walking stick, Tian Hua made his way toward the most popular eatery in the vicinity—Dragon’s Taste.

The doors swung open, granting Tian Hua a view of the six other customers relishing their morning repast, accompanied by steaming cups of tea. He took a seat with deliberate care, leaning his walking stick against the table, making every effort to maintain an air of dignity, even as he relied on the stick for support.

A man promptly approached his table, wearing an expression of weariness that would be familiar to any overworked office worker back in his world. “Welcome, sir. May I take your order?”

Tian Hua coughed, then replied, “Yes, do you have any tea for alleviating cold symptoms?”

“I recommend the cinnamon tea,” the man smiled. “Is that all?”

“What about soups? Do you serve herbal chicken soup?”

“We do. Cinnamon tea and herbal chicken soup. Is this your final order?”

Tian Hua parted his lips but hesitated to speak. He coughed once more and rubbed his throat, the unhealthy pallor of his complexion drawing increased concern. The server furrowed his brows, noting the peculiar signs of distress in Tian Hua’s appearance.

The man’s gaze was drawn to the walking stick resting conspicuously against the table, an unmistakable indication of its owner and the reason for its presence. He turned to regard Tian Hua, who, with an embarrassed smile, coughed once more and inquired, “That’s mine. Should I put it somewhere else?”

“Of course not,” he answered with raised eyebrows. “I’ll bring the tea to you shortly.”

After the server departed, Tian Hua let out a sigh. He had intentionally ventured out in his weakened state, recognizing the value of garnering people’s sympathy, particularly because he required information that might not be readily shared.

In due time, the man reappeared, carrying a wooden platter bearing a cup of piping hot cinnamon tea and a bowl of fragrant herbal chicken soup. “You were lucky,” he remarked, “as there was another order of herbal chicken soup this morning, so you didn’t have to wait long. Here is your meal, sir.”

“Thank you,” Tian Hua acknowledged with a nod and reached for the cup of tea. “To be completely honest with you, I’ve been making efforts for a while to get in touch with the Chen family. I’ve heard some distressing news recently, and I’ve been terribly anxious to speak with them.”

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The server frowned. “Are you close with the Chens?”

“Acquainted,” he coughed. “I’m a cultivator, and the village chief was a friend of my master. However, we’ve lost contact with him and his family, so I’ve come to inquire.”

“Cultivator?” The server squinted at him. “Aren’t you the master from that small sect on Yangming Peak?”

“Yes, I am.”

The server maintained his contemplative gaze on Tian Hua’s face before nodding. “I see. Personally, I’m not aware of the current circumstances in the Chen family, but Chen Bo might be able to answer your questions.”

“Chen Bo?” asked Tian Hua, a sense of hope welling up within him.

“He’s Miss Chen’s cousin. Chen Bo works at the inn right at the village’s entrance. It’s large and painted red, so you won’t have any trouble finding it,” the server explained.

Big and red. At the village’s entrance. Tian Hua mentally noted the information and expressed his gratitude with a grateful smile. After downing the cinnamon tea in one gulp, he rose to his feet unsteadily and retrieved his walking stick.

While leaving the payment for the meal along with a tip for the server, the man observed Tian Hua with a raised eyebrow. “Sir…? What about the soup?”

“Immortals have no time to dwell on thoughts of food,” Tian Hua replied with a wry smile, maintaining his pace toward the exit.

Following the server’s instructions, Tian Hua, taking multiple breaks along the way due to his weakened state, eventually reached the village’s entrance. There, a prominent red inn set against a backdrop of verdant trees caught his attention. Above the entrance door hung a small wooden sign bearing the name ‘Sunset.’

Tian Hua stepped through the inn’s entrance, greeted by a rustic interior adorned with wooden tables and chairs. At the center, an individual, seemingly indifferent to the early hour, savored a morning drink. With no inn staff in sight, he chose a seat at the table farthest from the stranger and settled in to wait.

Throughout this entire ordeal, Tian Hua couldn’t shake the feeling that something was profoundly amiss. Just the other day, he had questioned his disciples about Chen Shu and her interactions with them when she had appeared during his absence to inquire about him. Strangely, none of them could recollect her presence at the sect, let alone any conversation with her.

Tian Hua had an inexplicable sense that she was concealing something from him. And this something could either be a trivial detail of no significance, or information of immense consequence.

The sound of another door opening broke the silence, and a lean man with a weathered complexion walked in, carrying a fresh jar of wine. He promptly set it on the table where the other patron sat. After finishing his task, he caught sight of Tian Hua watching him from a corner and hastily approached his table.

“Welcome, sir!” the man greeted with enthusiasm. “Just a heads up, we typically serve wine exclusively to our inn’s guests.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’m not here for a drink. I’m here to talk with you, Chen Bo.”

Chen Bo, the individual in question, grew noticeably pale and swiftly assessed Tian Hua. “Y, you couldn’t be a monk from the Ziyun Monastery, could you?”

What an idiot, thought Tian Hua as he kept a straight face. Did he just make my life easier?

“Actually, I am.”

In an instant, Chen Bo dropped to his knees and joined his palms together. “I swear I’ve reformed my ways! My thoughts are no longer tainted, and my gaze does not stray to those who might lead me astray!”

“Is that so?”

Upon receiving Tian Hua’s nonchalant response, Chen Bo’s eyes welled with tears. “I promise! I swear on my... my... no, forget that! Swearing on others goes against the Law of the Souls! The only evidence is my own self; please, examine me closely, my Lord!” he implored.

Law of the Souls? My Lord? What is he even talking about? Tian Hua frowned. Just what is the Ziyun Monastery? Perhaps he went against some strict code of conduct of this monastery; abstaining from temptations?

“All I see is a deceptive soul,” Tian Hua responded, folding his arms. “I’ve just seen you serving alcohol to the gentleman over there. How can I be certain that you haven’t indulged in a jar yourself?”

Let’s see if alcohol is also a transgression of their rules.

Chen Bo’s face lost color instantly, a clear indication to Tian Hua that he had won the jackpot. With quivering lips, Chen Bo bowed deeply, pressing his forehead against the wooden floor.

Listening to his stifled sobs, Tian Hua hummed contemplatively before proceeding, “I can overlook your sins on this occasion if you assist me with a minor task.”

“Really?” Chen Bo inquired, lifting his head with two tear streaks still visible on his cheeks. “Anything, my Lord!”

“Tell me everything you know about Chen Shu.”

Yet again, Chen Bo faltered and lost his vigor. “Who? Chen Shu?”

“Precisely.”

“B, but… But I can’t! I, I can’t!” He stumbled over his words.

Tian Hua didn’t know how else to extract the information from Chen Bo, as he was meant to impersonate a Ziyun Monastery member. All the while, he kept his focus on Chen Bo, observing the sweat glistening on his brow, until inspiration struck.

He stood up and elegantly flicked his sleeve. “Very well. I shall inform the others at the monastery of your assistance.”

“No, no, no! Please, wait!” Chen Bo urgently grasped Tian Hua’s arm. “Just hold on, my Lord. You, more than anyone else, understand my predicament. I cannot easily... but, if it’s truly necessary, I will! But...”

“I have no time to spare. I don’t intend to listen to your blubbering all day long. If you’re going to talk, do it now. Otherwise…”

“I will! I will!” Chen Bo’s tears returned. “Should I start from the very beginning? My cousin was born on a very sunny day during the Rat hour—”

What an idiot.

Tian Hua cleared his throat. “I don’t need a complete account of her life. What I need from you is information concerning the events that transpired after Chen Shu’s father returned from Chenguang a few months ago.”

Chen Bo hesitated. “Huh? Did he go to Chenguang?”

Observing his perplexed expression, Tian Hua realized there was little chance of success. Yet, if Chen Bo remained oblivious to the details, he pondered whom he could turn to for answers. He was unfamiliar with the majority of Qingfeng’s villagers, and inquiring even more strangers about Chen Shu and her father might draw unwelcome attention. After all, this was meant to be a secret investigation.

Chen Bo noticed the disappointment etched across Tian Hua’s countenance and stammered, “Um, well, but I do have some interesting information about Chen Shu...”

Tian Hua glanced at Chen Bo.