Ye Fan believed that in the coming days, this place would know no peace — battle after battle would erupt, with more sects from the Eastern Wasteland rushing to converge here, the entire ruins seething with turmoil over the Demon Emperor’s Yin Tomb.

Looking back from a distance, he could still see streaks of blood-red light shooting skyward from the direction of the ruins, divine rainbows clashing and colliding in all directions.

“Whether or not the Desolate Pagoda lies within the Yin Tomb, it no longer concerns me…” Ye Fan felt deeply satisfied. What he needed now was to find a quiet place and settle his mind for cultivation.

The strange beasts and exotic birds that had gathered at the edges of the ruins had long since scattered. As Ye Fan made his way out, he encountered no ferocious creatures of any kind.

By now, stars were scattered across the sky, the bright moon hung high, and night had already fallen.

Ye Fan passed by the Spirit Ruins Cave Heaven without any hesitation, striding away with great steps — it was time to leave. Although he had obtained some damaged Buddhist artifacts from the Great Thunder Sound Temple and left them there, he had no intention of going back to retrieve them. If he ran into Elder Han, it would be more trouble than it was worth.

The most important item — the Bodhi Seed — he kept on his person at all times. Even temporarily losing those damaged Buddhist artifacts brought him no sense of regret, for his life was, above all else, the most precious thing.

Ye Fan moved swiftly, traveling through the night beneath the stars and moon, pushing through the entire mountain range without stopping. The land of trouble and strife behind him grew ever more distant, yet his heart had not truly settled.

Three days later, Ye Fan appeared two thousand li away. Throughout the journey he had eaten and slept out in the open, advancing with cautious stealth, hardly entering any town or settlement at all, keeping entirely to the wilderness. Only now did he let out a long breath, his heart gradually growing calm.

It was deep in the night. Clouds had obscured the stars and moon, making the darkness especially thick. Ahead, scattered points of lamplight shone — a town of modest size came into view. Ye Fan felt he had finally reached a safe region, and that there was no further need to flee. He strode forward.

Drawing closer, he found it was only a small town. Most of its residents had already drifted into sleep, with only a sparse few lamps still glowing.

Ye Fan walked into the town, circling around for a while, until at last he discovered a small shop in an out-of-the-way corner that had not yet closed for the night.

It was a truly tiny restaurant — no more than seven or eight tables inside. The chairs and tables all looked as though they had been there for years, worn smooth from constant wiping until they gleamed with a polished luster, giving the place a charmingly antique feel that was nonetheless very clean.

“Uncle, whatever you have to eat — bring some out quickly.”

The proprietor was an elderly man with hair gone white. The years had long since etched deep lines across his face, leaving it buried in wrinkles, weathered and worn as if by countless hardships. His clothes were patched in many places, and his circumstances appeared none too comfortable.

Seeing a young boy of eleven or twelve out walking alone at such an hour left the old man somewhat surprised, but he replied with a kindly smile: “Only a little less than half a roast chicken, a bit more than half a dish of beef, and some steamed buns.”

“Good. Bring it all out.”

“Then wait just a moment — let me warm it up for you.” The restaurant was far too small, and the old man’s means were modest; he was at once proprietor, waiter, and cook.

Before long, a fragrant roast chicken and a generous dish of braised beef were set on the table, and Ye Fan could barely stop himself from drooling. For over a year now, he and Pang Bo had eaten nothing but vegetarian food; the Spirit Ruins Cave Heaven had been almost entirely without meat. This simple fare sent his stomach growling in an embarrassingly loud protest.

He quickly took up his chopsticks, bit into a snow-white steamed bun, tore off a drumstick, and began eating ravenously. In that moment, he felt there was no finer food in all the world — mountain delicacies and seafood be damned, none of them could have satisfied him the way these few simple dishes did.

“No need to rush. Eat slowly, have some soup, let it settle your stomach — don’t choke.” The old man set down a bowl of hot broth and offered this gentle reminder.

“Thank you, Uncle. Your cooking has my stomach singing with admiration.” Ye Fan said this with his mouth still full, the words coming out somewhat garbled as he kept stuffing food in.

Seeing a boy whose clothing didn’t look like that of a poor family’s child eating with such frantic hunger left the old man somewhat puzzled. He rolled up his patched sleeves, picked up a cloth, and wiped down the already-clean tables and chairs beside him, shaking his head with a smile. “You were simply too hungry. Right now, anything you eat will taste wonderful.”

“Grandfather, why aren’t you closing yet…”

Just then, a little girl of five or six years old came walking out from the back room. Her clothes, too, were covered in patches — plain and simple in the extreme. She wore her hair in two little pigtails, was utterly adorable, and had rosy round cheeks like little red apples.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll close up in a little while.”

The little girl’s large eyes drifted toward the food on the table, unable to quite look away. She quietly swallowed and gave an absent little nod. “Okay,” she murmured.

Before long, Ye Fan had swept the table clean of everything. He stood up and said, “All right, Uncle, go ahead and close up.” As he said this, he reached into his chest — only to find himself somewhat embarrassed. He had forgotten: he had no coins at all, no gold or silver objects. He had no way to pay.

“Young friend, are you perhaps a little short at the moment?” The old man had seen much of the world, and recognized his predicament at a glance.

“Well… I really didn’t bring any money.”

“Ah, another bad person.” The little girl widened her eyes, on the verge of tears, staring at Ye Fan. “You’re all so awful — eating for free every single day, always picking on me and Grandfather. We can barely feed ourselves as it is…”

She looked at the chicken bones on the table, and her large eyes instantly reddened. “Grandfather said that if no customers came, he’d save a drumstick for me… but you’re someone who eats without paying, and you’re bullying us too.”

The little girl of five or six years puckered her lips, her long lashes trembling, and tears immediately rolled down her face. Her rosy cheeks were streaked with teardrops, and she kept wiping at them with her patched sleeves.

It was plain to see that their circumstances were very poor, and that they were harassed like this on a regular basis.

“Little sister, please don’t cry…” Ye Fan felt genuinely awkward and ashamed. This old man and small child clearly had a hard life, long since fallen into dire straits.

“It’s all right — you needn’t blame yourself, young friend. I can see it clearly: you’re different from those ruffians. You’re not the type to eat without paying. You simply forgot to bring money.” The deeply wrinkled old man drew the little girl to one side. “Don’t cry. Grandfather saved you a piece of chicken, and half a steamed bun. You won’t go hungry.”

“Grandfather…” The little girl burst into aggrieved sobs. “I’m not crying for myself — Grandfather hasn’t eaten dinner either! Those bad people bully us every single day, and now we have nothing left in savings at all. If it keeps going like this, what are we going to do…”

Seeing the patched clothes on both the old man and the child, and hearing these words, Ye Fan felt a sharp pang in his chest. Something deep inside him was profoundly moved, and to his own surprise, his eyes stung.

The life of ordinary people was filled with bitter-sweet hardships. The bond of affection between this old man and this child, and the helplessness of their situation, stirred in him a kind of warmth he had not felt in a long time.

“Little sister, please don’t cry. I’m not a bad person. I have no money, but I do have something here — it should more than cover the cost of this meal.” Ye Fan took out a small jade vial — the very bottle of Hundred Herbs Liquid he had obtained as a reward during the trials at the outer perimeter of the ruins.

“This is a piece of fine jade — far too valuable. I cannot accept it.” The old man shook his head. “Everyone faces hard times. If you pass through here again someday, young friend, just make up the payment then.”

Ye Fan let out a quiet sigh of admiration. That a man living in such poverty still carried himself with such character and dignity earned a measure of respect in him. “Please take it,” he said. “To me, it’s nothing at all.”

“It’s far too valuable — I truly cannot accept it. When we’re away from home, everyone faces difficulties sometimes. You needn’t blame yourself.” The old man’s hands were covered in calluses, and he firmly pushed the jade vial back.

Ye Fan, seeing him refuse, put it away.

“Since you won’t take it, then I’ll stay here and do whatever work needs doing.” He had nowhere else to go at the moment, and he found the old man to be honest and kind. He decided to remain here for a time, to cultivate in peace and quiet, and to help the old man along the way.

The little girl of five or six lowered her head and stared at the tips of her shoes, her large eyes still red, and said softly: “We can barely feed ourselves as it is…”

Ye Fan crouched down, and with gentle affection, patted the little girl on the head. “I’m staying, but I won’t add to your burden.”