Shaolin Temple.

Mount Song Sect and the Sun family returned in defeat. Within half a day, someone figured out what was wrong—where in the martial world had this “Venerable Treasure Vase from Jade Flute Mountain” come from? Moreover, Tang Lici had supernatural abilities, so how could he possibly be captured without resistance? Furthermore, with weapons scattered all over the forest floor, how many people had actually fought that day? Where did all these weapons come from? And why were trees broken all around yet no bloodstains visible?

This golden cicada escaping its shell trick was not only crude but glaringly obvious, as if afraid others wouldn’t know Tang Lici had already escaped along the way, deliberately leaving evidence everywhere.

Tang Lici’s journey to Shaolin Temple was itself an unreasonable move. His escaping midway was much more logical than fighting his way up to Shaolin Temple. So when the martial world heard that Young Master Tang had vanished without a trace, they all felt “just as expected.” Tang Lici’s reputation was ruined and he was the target of everyone’s arrows—wouldn’t he flee in panic rather than go to Shaolin Temple to seek death?

However, ten days later, in the deep of night.

Before the main gate of Shaolin Temple.

The evening breeze was gentle. The stone carvings beside the mountain gate cast solemn shadows. The ancient pine and cypress branches on the stone path remained motionless, with only the treetops swaying slightly. All around was peaceful and quiet. Besides the lingering scent of sandalwood, there wasn’t even the sound of insects in the silent night.

A plain cloth shoe stepped onto the stone path before the mountain gate, standing silently for a while.

Moments later, the mountain gate creaked open with a groan. From within strode a burly monk with dragon-like bearing, a smooth bald head, and curly full beard that suggested some foreign ancestry. This was Master Dabao, who had once discussed Buddhist teachings with Puzhu and had wandered everywhere, converting thousands to virtue.

Tonight was Master Dabao’s night watch. Preferring nature, he sat in meditation at the mountain gate, breathing in the natural air. Unexpectedly, during his midnight breathing exercises, his spiritual senses stirred slightly, as if a visitor had arrived.

He stepped outside the mountain gate but saw nothing—as if nothing had ever appeared.

With Master Dabao’s martial arts skills, he immediately placed his hand on a pine tree, harmonizing with the clear energy of the pine forest. Opening his eyes wide—someone had just been here!

Not only had someone been here, but it was a master with subtle, slow breathing and light movement skills. This person had lingered here for some time, then suddenly disappeared—the mountain gate area was paved with stone, naturally lacking mud or sand—wait—

Master Dabao discovered a faint shoe print in the sand and stones at the base of an old pine. Looking up, he saw a brocade bundle hanging from the pine tree, stained with blood. He leaped up, broke off the branch with the bundle, carefully picked the bundle down to the ground, and gently opened it.

Inside the bundle was a volume of the “Three Character Classic.”

One page had been torn from the “Three Character Classic.”

Master Dabao furrowed his brow. What was this? What did it mean?

Looking around in all directions, he saw that among all the pines in the forest, only this one tree had a bundle hanging from it. After checking the area thoroughly and finding himself very puzzled, Master Dabao picked up the branch that had held the bundle and hurried back into the temple to report to Master Dahui.

Master Dahui was the temple supervisor and had already retired for the night. Master Dabao went to Master Dahui’s meditation room while simultaneously ordering the staff-bearing monks patrolling that night to check everywhere, strictly guarding against thieves infiltrating. Especially that pine forest in front of the mountain gate—not knowing if there were other strange objects, they should strengthen their inspection.

Just as Master Dabao and Master Dahui began examining the “Three Character Classic,” and Shaolin’s thirty-six staff monks lit torches to search the forest outside the courtyard, Tang Lici silently entered the stele forest corridor.

He wanted to see Puzhu.

Puzhu was friends with Yu Konghou, who went by the alias Miss Tao of the West. After assuming the position of abbot, he had sealed himself within Shaolin Temple—this was unreasonable.

Yu Konghou must have made some arrangement regarding him.

To break the situation at Bodhi Valley’s Piaoli Mei Garden, Tang Lici had to know what exactly had happened to Puzhu.

The stele forest was completely silent. Staff monks had originally been stationed here, but Master Dabao had called them to the pine forest.

Tang Lici walked through the shadows of the stele forest very carefully. Shaolin Temple had once rendered great service in Prince Qin Li Shimin’s campaign against Zheng Prince Wang Shichong. Li Shimin allowed Shaolin Temple to maintain monk soldiers for self-defense. So Shaolin Temple differed from other temples—besides martially skilled great monks, Shaolin also had temple-protecting monk soldiers. The temple-protecting monk soldiers might not all be highly skilled in martial arts, but they were numerous. Those staff monks in the pine forest outside were among them.

Past the stele forest, Tang Lici quietly moved forward.

The Sutra Repository was a key area of Shaolin, with a row of monk quarters beside it, housing many Buddhist masters and martial experts. Tang Lici was extremely careful passing this area, holding his breath and concentrating his qi. Just as he had passed half the monk quarters, he suddenly felt something was wrong.

He stopped, slowly turned his head, and looked toward the monk quarters beside the Sutra Repository.

Inside was complete silence.

Not even a sound of breathing.

Even if the monk quarters housed supreme masters whose breathing was barely audible, there were also Buddhist masters without martial arts living here. How could all the monk quarters be completely silent, quiet enough to hear a pin drop?

No one guarding outside the Sutra Repository?

These monk quarters were completely uninhabited?

Facing a row of completely silent, simple dwellings, Tang Lici actually took a slow step back.

A candle flame flickered slightly atop the Sutra Repository, where there should have been no one. Someone had climbed to the top and was holding candlelight, leaning down to look. If Tang Lici didn’t hide in the Sutra Repository, he would inevitably have to hide in the monk quarters opposite. After a moment’s hesitation, he still hid in the shadows of the monk quarters.

Shaolin Temple’s meditation rooms were very simple, all built by neatly stacking large stone blocks. He hid under the eaves of the first meditation room on the left.

He smelled flower fragrance.

In this cold, dark deep night, in the monk quarters beside Shaolin Temple’s Sutra Repository, besides sandalwood, there was actually a faint floral fragrance drifting about.

According to the Central Plains Sword Society’s intelligence, Shaolin Temple currently had only four “Da” generation senior monks in residence—Dahui, Dabao, Dashi, and Dacheng. These senior monks came from Shaolin’s monk soldier background and all possessed formidable martial arts. The senior monks who specialized in Buddhist teachings were of the “Miao” generation, currently including Miaozhen, Miaoxing, and Miaozheng.

The first room on the left should be the meditation room of “Master Miaozhen,” the eldest of the “Miao” generation.

Tang Lici stepped under the eaves. This completely silent meditation room had its window shutters half open. At a glance, he saw Master Miaozhen sitting cross-legged but collapsed sideways on his bed.

—That was clearly not a posture for meditation or sleep.

A chill arose spontaneously. Tang Lici walked forward a few steps. Next to “Miaozhen” was “Master Miaoxing’s” meditation room. “Miaoxing” was not in his room—where he had gone was unknown.

There was someone in his room.

An unexpected person.

Meihua Yishu.

Meihua Yishu lay prostrate over Master Miaoxing’s desk, motionless.

Tang Lici stared at Meihua Yishu’s red outer robe—in others’ eyes, Tang Lici was Liu Yan’s accomplice, the mastermind behind the Nine Heart Pills, the leader of the Romantic House—while Meihua Yishu was one of the “Seven Flower Cloud Travelers,” precisely one of the Romantic House’s notable masters.

Though Meihua Yishu had been controlled by Miss Hong’s needles and later saved by Biluo Palace, not many in the martial world knew the details. Moreover, after recovering from his injuries, he had left on his own, with no great friendship with the Central Plains Sword Society. Tang Lici and others knew Meihua Yishu had enmity with Yu Konghou, but others didn’t know this.

So now Miaozhen was dead.

Miaoxing was missing.

Meihua Yishu was dead in Miaoxing’s room.

Tang Lici suddenly turned around, looking at this row of monk quarters outside the Sutra Repository. The cold night frost pierced to the bone, and even he himself almost believed… it was Tang Lici who had led a night assault and killed Shaolin Temple’s senior monks.