Heart racing and mind in chaos, Wei Xun placed the sutra containing the note back in its original location at the hostel and found an uninhabited attic corner to hide himself.

He stared at his hands in bewilderment, not understanding why he had to dodge away from her, much less knowing where that fearful, cowardly emotion came from.

When he had first rescued her from the tomb, due to the eerie circumstances in the burial chamber, her face was covered with a demon mask, and he feared her body might also be pierced with steel needles, iron nails and other suppression objects. He had carefully felt every inch of her muscles and bones to check for these, yet hadn’t felt the slightest embarrassment.

Now, somehow, he suddenly couldn’t even touch her at all.

Finally enduring until it was completely dark, he still had nowhere to go. Thinking that his junior brother at Lotus Temple might not have anything to eat, he bought a flatbread on the street to bring to him.

Shisan Lang saw that he was absent-minded, looking utterly dejected and dispirited, which was very strange.

“Senior Brother, what’s wrong with you?”

Wei Xun said gloomily: “I don’t know how, but I’m somewhat afraid.”

Hearing this, Shisan Lang was thunderstruck and turned pale with shock. Though Wei Xun wasn’t old, he had exceptional natural talent and extremely high comprehension. Even as a youth he was already a first-rate master under heaven. In the little monk’s heart, this senior brother of his had always been carefree and fearless. Even knowing his life wouldn’t be long, he had always been unrestrained and broad-minded. As for encountering hardships and dangers, powerful enemies and adversaries, the stronger they were, the more excited he became—he had never seen him afraid of anything.

“Could there be an enemy that Senior Brother can’t handle?! Could it be that master with the horizontal sword…”

Wei Xun shook his head and spoke honestly: “It’s not an enemy. I made her angry, and she told me to get lost—said it decisively.”

Shisan Lang was thunderstruck again, eyes widening as he said incredulously: “Then hurry up and apologize! What’s there to be afraid of about this?”

Wei Xun looked at the little monk with worry, thinking and thinking, then said in a low voice: “I don’t know what to say.”

Shisan Lang held the flatbread in his hands, thinking that he was only twelve years old this year and still a monk at that—Senior Brother had really found the right person to discuss this problem with.

The two brothers had never encountered such a strange, thorny situation. They looked at each other helplessly and could only find an uninhabited rooftop to sit down, eating bread while discussing.

Shisan Lang thought Wei Xun had caused trouble by teasing someone as usual and complained: “Senior Brother, you shouldn’t have angered Jiu Niang. She’s been very good to both of us. A few days ago when you were hiding, she insisted on going to see you. When she saw you were seriously ill, she even cried.”

Wei Xun’s heart stirred, yet he didn’t dare believe it, stubbornly retorting: “She’s originally a crybaby anyway. She cries when touched by a scene, and she cries when she finds a worm in a date.”

Shisan Lang frowned and said hesitantly: “I can’t explain it clearly, but that situation seemed different… Oh right, you scratched her hand—have you apologized for that? Let’s solve things one by one.”

Hearing him say this, Wei Xun was baffled and questioned: “Talking nonsense—when did I ever injure her hand?!”

Shisan Lang found it incredible: “Didn’t Senior Brother see the bruise marks?”

Wei Xun frowned and said: “I didn’t see anything.”

“You were delirious with fever at the time. Jiu Niang went to feel your forehead, and you suddenly had an episode and gripped her pulse point viciously. Fortunately I was there to relieve the pressure, so you didn’t injure her tendons and bones. Senior Brother, you know your own finger strength—it left a black and blue claw print. It’s lucky you didn’t pull out a dagger and stab her in the chest, or the living pearl would have truly become a dead pearl.”

How could this be? How could this be? Wei Xun was stunned, his heart full of thoughts that this kid was talking nonsense and deserved to be kicked off the roof with one foot. But what floated up in his mind was her constantly covering up with her sleeves, whether writing or shooting arrows, just refusing to expose her wrists. In that moment he understood everything, immediately his blood surged with regret and remorse, his mind in complete chaos.

Shisan Lang saw his shocked and confused expression, as if he truly didn’t know. He knew Wei Xun extremely disliked others touching him—when he was conscious it was still manageable, but once he lost focus, there would surely be death and injury. Could it be that this incident had caused trouble?

The little monk said in a low voice: “We should still find a way to apologize. Even if she said to get lost, does Senior Brother really dare to abandon everything and leave?”

In all this confusion, Wei Xun also asked himself—did he dare?

When Yang Xingjian had found them, it meant she had reestablished contact with her family, and he should have withdrawn then. But that weak scholar with his three-stroke mouse whiskers had absolutely no ability to protect her. In such chaotic times, with her outstanding character and abilities, how many powerful men would covet her along the way? She was probably desired a hundred or thousand times more than the snake pearl on the Pagoda of Many Treasures.

Even if he immediately eliminated Bao Lang now, there would be a second and third Bao Lang to come lusting after her—he could never kill them all. He had personally lifted her from the coffin and expended much internal energy and effort to save her life. To throw her into a den of wolves and tigers and walk away—he truly didn’t dare, and couldn’t bear to.

With a sigh, Wei Xun said dejectedly: “She spoke clearly and plainly. By rights, I shouldn’t pester her anymore.”

Shisan Lang remembered what Chen Shigu had said when he was alive. Wei Xun had deliberately avoided discussing it all along this journey—whenever he brought it up, Senior Brother would either run away or pretend not to hear. This time, it seemed they must speak clearly.

Shisan Lang said solemnly: “When Master was alive, he said the elixir that could save your life was called Phoenix Embryo, also known as Living Pearl. Jiu Niang has the Emperor’s bloodline, is descended from an Imperial Consort—a true Phoenix Embryo. Her name is Bao Zhu (Precious Pearl), and you rescued her alive from the tomb, which corresponds to ‘Living Pearl.’ Senior Brother, the key to curing your illness lies with Jiu Niang. This is what Buddhism calls karmic destiny. If you leave, what will happen to this terminal illness?”

How could Wei Xun not think of these things? He had simply been unwilling to think about them carefully all along the way. With Shisan Lang’s direct revelation, his emotions became even more turbulent, unable to calm down. He had suffered from congenital cold evil all his life, each attack bringing unbearable pain. After years of tomb robbing and searching through ancient burial sites, he had never found that legendary prescription. Having reached a dead end, he had become disheartened and decided to wash his hands of it all, accepting his fate to wait for death. Who would have thought that on his final attempt, he would dig her out.

The Penglai spiritual medicine was illusory and vague—he didn’t even know if it truly existed. But this person stood alive before him, able to cry and laugh. Even if she was the medicine for his illness, the pearl to save his life, how could he use her? Could he throw her in a cauldron and boil her to eat?

The two brothers sat facing each other speechlessly in the moonlight, thinking of all the hardships and encounters over these years, both filled with mixed emotions.

After a long while, Wei Xun quietly gave an instruction: “Go back to the temple yourself.” Having said this, he jumped down from the eaves. Shisan Lang watched him with his head hanging low, his steps unsteady, still heading in the direction of the county office.

Watching Wei Xun’s figure disappear from sight, the little monk thought: The Buddhist scriptures say “Without attachments, there is no fear”—could it be that because his heart had attachments, someone who never knew what fear was began to feel the emotion of being afraid?

The inner quarters of the county office were already pitch black, with only the night watchman at the gate keeping a drowsy oil lamp lit.

Wei Xun reached out with his fingertip and gently pushed at the window of Bao Zhu’s room—it was already bolted from inside. Unwilling to give up, he circled around several times, trying every window, only to find each one sealed tight.

He naturally had a hundred other ways to get in—even directly climbing up to remove roof tiles—but none of those would do. Her closing the windows meant she forbade him entry. This room was the most heavily guarded place in the entire world, leaving even him helpless.

The late summer heat had passed, and the deep night wind already carried coolness. Without the disturbance of human voices and clamor, the clear breeze carried the sound of bronze bells from Lotus Temple’s pagoda from afar, faint and ethereal like celestial music drifting by.

Wei Xun had nowhere to advance or retreat, nowhere to go. He could only sit hugging his knees on the ridge of the roof, blowing in the wind while gazing from afar at that window closed to him. Above hung a bright, full moon, its light washing everything clean and illuminating every detail below. Poets throughout history had described the full moon as an ice mirror, like a jade plate, like a round toad. But now in his eyes, this round, bright thing looked like nothing so much as a pearl, leaving him momentarily dazed with wandering thoughts.

Suddenly a slender tabby cat jumped onto the roof, swaying as it walked to sit down on the ridge. Whether from fighting with its own kind or some other injury, its fur was disheveled and its left front paw hung in the air, corresponding exactly to his left hand wrapped in cloth strips.

Seeing it as bedraggled as himself, Wei Xun smiled bitterly and asked: “Cat, oh cat, is there no one willing to hire you either?”

The tabby cat gave him a haughty glance but made no sound in response.

A skinny cat and a skinny man, sitting far apart at either end of the roof ridge, both gazing at the bright moon above in silent speechlessness.