And so, everyone entered the temple.

The carriage and dozen or so horses were led around to the back of the temple and taken to the stable specially established there.

Upon entering the temple, a faint scent of candle incense assailed their nostrils, while the sound of sutra chanting surrounded their ears.

Though this Guang’an Temple couldn’t compare to those great temples—it had no resplendent golden decorations, nor was it magnificent and imposing, containing only some ordinary wooden objects—and the temple’s layout wasn’t grand enough either, being just ordinarily simple and conventional. From the mountain gate one entered the great hall, commonly called the Heavenly Kings Hall. Passing through the long corridors on either side of the Heavenly Kings Hall, one reached the Reclining Buddha Hall and the Grand Hero Hall. Going around further brought one to the rear courtyard meditation chambers. There were many meditation chambers, divided among three sides—east, west, and south. Due west was the abbot’s chamber, due east was the dharma hall and some monks’ meditation chambers, and due south was specifically used to receive those who came to the temple for temporary spiritual cultivation.

The small monk settled them in the south section and had some monks prepare vegetarian dishes for them to eat.

The care was quite thoughtful.

Before long, the abbot came over and everyone chatted.

That abbot was an extremely lovable old fellow who felt that Jingrong was especially destined for Buddhism and insisted on pulling him to the dharma hall, saying he wanted to expound Buddhist truths to him. Though Jingrong didn’t believe in Buddhism, he couldn’t refuse such earnest hospitality and could only go.

Silent mourning!

At this time, Muruo was sitting in the corridor beside the meditation chambers, holding a bamboo stalk he’d obtained from who knows where, whittling it with a small knife.

Tang Si walked over and sat down on the bench opposite him.

“Where did that bamboo come from?”

“They’re everywhere in the temple.”

“What are you whittling?”

“Passing time.”

Tang Si didn’t understand and leaned forward. “Are you very bored?”

Muruo’s hand paused. He looked at her and raised the object in his hand, asking in return, “This is a temple. No meat is allowed, and alcohol is forbidden. What do you think—am I bored?”

Hehe.

Pretty bored indeed.

So he began whittling the bamboo again, carving one end sharper and sharper.

Like a needle.

Tang Si puffed out her cheeks and tilted her head back to look at the torrential rain before them. Under the illumination of the surrounding lamplight, the rainwater glimmered with scattered points of light, soft and fuzzy, very beautiful. She gazed mesmerized, the corners of her mouth involuntarily blooming into a smile.

By chance, Muruo saw this.

In that instant, he felt as if this woman emanated a light from her body that attracted his gaze and made it difficult to look away.

His heart thumped a few times!

But worried about being discovered, he quickly withdrew his gaze and continued concentrating on whittling the bamboo in his hand.

After Tang Si finished observing the scattered starlight in the rain, she turned to ask him, “Is the capital large?”

“Large.”

“Is it prosperous?”

“Prosperous.”

“Are there wolves?”

“Yes, very many.”

“Then what is your Yuhua Pavilion like?”

“It’s just a pavilion.”

Pfft—

Tang Si bit her lip and continued asking, “When we reach the capital, will you marry me?”

Pfft—

Muruo’s body stiffened. This question came too suddenly, and he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly—women from Houliao were truly bold and forthright.

“Answer me, will you marry me or not?”

Muruo simply didn’t answer, turning his body away to face away from the woman and continue whittling bamboo.

But Tang Si wouldn’t give up, constantly asking in his ear “will you marry me or not?”

She asked over and over again!

Finally—

Unable to endure being pestered any longer, Muruo helplessly forced out a sentence: “Yes, I’ll marry you! After I marry you and bring you home, I’ll treat you like an ancestral tablet, is that acceptable?”

Tang Si beamed with joy, excitedly clasping his arm and resting her head on his shoulder, embracing him and refusing to let go.

This little enchantress was truly grinding.

Yet she was also like sticky candy, destined to cling to Muruo for the rest of this life.

This scene was witnessed by Ji Yunshu standing outside the door. She smiled, knowing in her heart that those two quarrelsome souls would be together sooner or later.

She envied Tang Si in her heart, envied her freedom and carefree nature, her generous and open way of loving and speaking, her bold and forthright temperament. Though such a woman was somewhat aggressive and her mouth unforgiving, her imperfection was precisely what made her precious.

Just then, a gust of wind arose and she shivered. She was about to go inside when she inadvertently caught sight of a pigeon.

The pigeon descended from the rain and landed right on the edge of the corridor, flapping its damp wings a few times and shaking off many fine droplets of water.

With such heavy rain falling, a pigeon landing here to shelter from the rain wasn’t particularly strange.

But—

What drew Ji Yunshu’s attention was a small bamboo tube tied to the pigeon’s leg.

The first phrase that popped into her mind was “carrier pigeon message transmission.”

Could it be a letter from the capital for Jingrong?

She was about to go over, but the pigeon flapped its wings and flew toward the direction of the sutra chanting hall. She followed along the corridor, but just as she reached the sutra chanting hall, the pigeon vanished. She only saw a monk hunched over standing in the doorway, sideways with his back to her, his appearance not visible.

What was strange was that monks all had their heads shaved, yet this monk had hair beneath his monk’s cap.

She didn’t think much of it and prepared to step forward to ask if he’d seen a pigeon, but the old monk turned and entered the sutra chanting hall, walking with a limp, appearing somewhat labored. Seeing this, Ji Yunshu also entered the sutra chanting hall.

Inside, a dozen or so monks were sitting in meditation.

The old monk from before walked to the foremost position and sat down, never turning his body around.

“Benefactor?” A monk came over and asked, “Do you wish to chant sutras?”

She neither agreed nor refused!

The small monk brought over a meditation cushion for her, and she could only sit down here, though her gaze never left the old monk at the front.

After about one incense stick’s time, she saw the old monk slowly turn sideways, appearing about to face her direction.

But just then—

Jingrong suddenly appeared beside her, scattering her previously fixed gaze, moving it from the old monk to look at the man beside her.

“Why did you come here?”

Jingrong asked in return, “That’s what this prince should be asking you.”

Both their voices were very soft.

“It’s because…”

She looked toward where the old monk had been, but—

That monk was gone!

“He was just here.” She murmured softly.

But Jingrong pulled her out and asked, “What’s going on?”

“I saw a pigeon.”

“What’s strange about that?”

“The pigeon’s leg had a small bamboo tube tied to it.”

“A letter?” Jingrong questioned.

She nodded, then shook her head. “I’m not certain, so I followed that pigeon here. I clearly saw it land here, but when I came over, it had vanished without a trace. I only saw an old monk—though one can’t really call him a monk, because I saw he hadn’t even shaved his hair.”

Jingrong understood her meaning. “You suspect that the letter on that pigeon was being sent to this prince but was hidden by that monk?”

“I can’t be certain.”

Jingrong smiled and said with certainty, “Rest assured, that letter wasn’t being sent to this prince.”

“Why?”