The second high priest of Flowing Cloud Temple, Daoist Priest Xuan Huang, passed away. One more small mound appeared on the Back Mountain of Flowing Cloud Temple. Following the high priest’s wishes made during his lifetime, the burial was kept simple. He was buried just an inch downhill from the resting place of the old high priest at the temple’s back mountain. Tong Zhihuan knelt before that grave for two days, no more, no less. Since the Daoist Priest had not formally accepted him as a disciple, kneeling even one extra day would have broken the proper rules. This matter buried itself deep in his heart, hard to forget for a long time. To him, Daoist Priest Xuan Huang was a figure he respected like a master teacher. The Master Teacher pointed the way, and the Daoist Priest guided him along it. Only then could he have this life and all this medical skill he possessed. But this was also what saddened him the most, just like the words he spoke kneeling before the Daoist Priest’s grave: “I can cure hard-to-treat illnesses, I can save people others can’t save… but the one person I couldn’t save was the Daoist Priest…” This was the helplessness of a healer. It was also the helplessness shared by countless, countless others. Birth, aging, sickness, and death were already ordinary parts of the Mortal World. He wanted to stay on the mountain for a while longer, because this was the place the Daoist Priest had cared about most deeply throughout his life. From then on, many people seeking medicine started climbing the mountain to plead for help. The Flowing Cloud Temple, which should have been quiet, became lively once again. But now it had its own set of rules. They would not treat any illness that wasn’t severe and hard to cure. Taking a pulse cost nothing, but the person must burn three incense sticks in the temple. Because of this, Flowing Cloud Temple never again lacked for incense offerings; the smoke of green incense never ceased rising. This was what Tong Zhihuan felt was the only thing he could do to repay the Daoist Priest. During these two years, Tong Zhihuan immersed himself in studying medicine. Combined with the books the Master Teacher had once given him, his progress on the path of medical skill advanced extremely fast. Until one day, he discovered… The words on that book the Master Teacher had given him long ago had completely vanished. No matter how many times he flipped through it, no words appeared anymore. It was then that Tong Zhihuan finally realized. He had finished reading it all! Tong Zhihuan had never carefully counted exactly how many books he’d read, but roughly estimating, there were at least more than four hundred… Just reading them had taken him nearly two years. In that moment, Tong Zhihuan felt an unspeakable sense of relief and satisfaction. He stood at the gate of the Daoist Temple. He watched the mist drifting among the mountain peaks, gazing at it for a long, long time. Tong Zhihuan went to the Back Mountain to pay respects to Daoist Priest Xuan Huang. He then locked the main gate of Flowing Cloud Temple and descended the mountain. From that point on, Flowing Cloud Temple truly felt empty. Spring came and summer passed. Autumn left and winter arrived. Green moss slowly grew on the mountain steps. Weeds sprouted, covering the staircase. No more incense smoke rose from Flowing Cloud Temple. The temple gate remained tightly locked, and no one ever opened it again. Winter of the 26th year of Tianshun Reign. The ninth day of the Twelfth Month. Heavy snow fell from the sky. Everywhere, within the town and without, was blanketed in a layer of monotonous white. However, compared to the great snowstorm many years ago, this snowfall was slightly less intense. Trees on the mountains were concealed by the heavy snow. A thick layer of snow built up on the roof of the Taoist Temple. The peach tree in the courtyard had long since shed all its leaves during autumn. Now completely bare, it looked somewhat less charming than usual. The world lay in deep silence. Yet, within the temple grounds, something unusual stirred. Beneath that peach tree, the figure of a woman suddenly appeared. Her clothes were long robes in shades of pink and white. She wore no makeup, possessing an indescribable, simple elegance. She took a quick look around the temple courtyard. Snow covered the ground thickly, and dust lay thick over everything inside the temple. After a moment’s thought, she went to the backyard, found a broom, and began tidying up the Taoist Temple. The lock on the main gate remained firmly in place. And yet, sounds could now be heard coming from within the temple walls. No one knew from where this woman came, but after that snowfall, the temple would rarely remain untidy again. A few days later, the accumulated snow gradually melted. The woman in the courtyard took several books from the Library Pavilion and began reading them. Her sitting posture was exactly like the Master Teacher’s of old, hugging a book, oblivious to everything else, completely focused only on what was written inside. But this woman seemed a little… not quite clever. She sat under the peach tree, scratching her head, frowning, and muttering to herself: “Why could the Master Teacher understand this, but I can’t?” But even though she couldn’t understand, she kept reading anyway. To be honest, she was just purely curious and didn’t really care whether she truly grasped it or not. Who could have guessed that she would keep reading from spring right through to Huai Xu (late spring/early summer)? The peach blossoms cladding the tree burst into full bloom. Framing the woman sitting beneath them, the sight was incredibly beautiful. It seemed as though the woman herself had been formed from the blossoms, exhibiting a uniquely captivating loveliness. The woman reading paused. She turned her head to look toward the temple entrance. It was the sound of a lock being unfastened. She put down the book in her hands and looked towards the temple gate. Tong Zhihuan pushed open the large gate of the Taoist Temple. Having been away for over a year, his appearance had changed significantly. He had shed the remnants of youthful softness; now a beard grew on his face, and his eyes held a touch of world-weariness. Yet, when he saw the scene inside the temple grounds, he suddenly froze. He saw that the temple was completely tidy and clean. No fallen leaves lay in the courtyard, no dust coated the eaves. Everything looked peaceful and serene, seemingly unchanged from the day he had left. Tong Zhihuan frowned. “Could someone have been here?” He started searching throughout the temple. The woman stood directly beneath the peach tree. But Tong Zhihuan seemed utterly unable to see her as he scanned the courtyard and buildings. It wasn’t just the eaves and courtyard- even the Divine Statues inside the temple and the pavilion in the backyard were spotless, free of a single speck of dust. Get full chapters from 𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝗇𝖾𝗍 This really puzzled Tong Zhihuan. When he came beneath the peach tree, he noticed a book lying on the table. “Why is this book here?” Tong Zhihuan frowned and scanned his surroundings again. He saw absolutely no one. The woman stood right beside him, yet he saw nothing at all. “Silly goose.” She covered her mouth, stifling a soft laugh. Tong Zhihuan couldn’t hear her voice either. Tong Zhihuan picked up the book and placed it back in the Library Pavilion. Afterwards, he went to his old room, lay down on the bed, and promptly fell asleep. The exhaustion of continuous travel had drained him mentally and physically. He slept deeply, completely oblivious to the world spinning outside. He could finally rest properly. The Daoist Priest had once mentioned that the Master Teacher would return around the time when May turns into June. 😉😉😉Golden Novel translates the best Chinese web novels for you!😉😉😉 He had come back this time precisely to meet the Master Teacher. Early the next morning. Tong Zhihuan awoke. He drew a bucket of water from the well to wash up. After washing and tidying himself, he intended to sit under the peach tree to write or work on medical records. But the moment he sat down, he sensed something was wrong. “How did this book get back here?” The book he had returned to the Library Pavilion yesterday was once again lying on the table in front of him. This startled Tong Zhihuan badly. He knew it couldn’t be his memory playing tricks on him. Someone, or something, must be behind this. The woman who was sitting on a branch of the peach tree, idly swaying her legs, laughed and teased him quietly. Watching Tong Zhihuan, she found him more and more amusing. Of course, she only dared to tease him secretly this way. After all, Tong Zhihuan couldn’t see her and couldn’t hear her voice. Who could have known that just moments later, she wouldn’t feel like laughing anymore. Tong Zhihuan walked back inside the Taoist Temple. He took the sword that rested in the grasp of one of the Divine Statues. “What evil spirit dares to cause trouble in this sacred place!” Tong Zhihuan’s gaze turned sharp as he swept it across the courtyard. A chilling air of sternness and lethality seemed to emanate from the sword itself. The woman sitting on the tree branch instantly paled. A terrible sense of foreboding washed over her.