Chapter 3, The Abandoned Temple

After saying this, I felt a sense of comfort and lingering fragrance, so I contentedly strolled slowly along the riverbank.

and then set aside the sentiment of growing old in this place

Uncertain of where the master of this girl in purple had gone, she tilted her head, innocently leaning against the door, her fingertips twirling around her braid. With her index finger gently brushing across her face, she laughed and said: "Old hag, are you not ashamed? Bullying the elderly and children, and even someone on the verge of death."

He was astonished to find that cursing was such a pleasurable activity, and so he chuckled softly and muttered again: "You old turtle grandson who takes money but doesn't do a good job, eating without taking a dump."

The old fisherman became anxious, seemingly wanting to get up, but he was too severely injured. When he moved slightly, he fell heavily back to the ground.

In the world of rivers and lakes, wherever one goes, there are disputes; the court is a place of fame and fortune, while the rivers and lakes are a realm of controversies. Some people never seem to understand this matter, as if wielding a sword and riding a horse to roam the world is an extraordinary achievement, even murmuring about it until death

Zhou Zishu was indifferent—having experienced all sorts of life-and-death situations in this world, he no longer cared about anything. He took the old fisherman's unrefined words as mere seasoning for his meal.

Despite the impressive aura, he was merely a novice with limited skills. Although he appeared spirited with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, he was clumsy and unable to execute a single move. In an effortless manner, the other person disarmed him, and with a casual slap of the palm, struck him in the lower abdomen, sending him flying over three meters as if playing with a cat

It is fortunate that this old fellow does not know what he is doing here, relying on such a false identity. If he truly lived by ferrying, he would surely be impoverished to the point of wearing rags

The old fisherman, unaware of whether he was alive or dead, had been cursing at people with great vigor during the day. Now, upon hearing someone say he was "about to die," he truly seemed to be on the verge of death, collapsing to the ground without a sound.

The beautiful young girl, although bouncing and jumping, always cautiously walked about one yard behind the man, not daring to overstep her bounds

He visited the legendary fairy mountain when he passed by Penglai, and at that time, he thought about it while halfway up the mountain. However, later he felt that he had not thoroughly explored the legendary misty rain of Jiangnan, which seemed somewhat regrettable. Thus, he traveled south to Jiangnan. Now, he suddenly felt this sentiment again, took a bite of the dry and hard cake in his hand, and chewed it vigorously for a long time before finally swallowing it. Shaking his head, he pondered that although he had seen Jiangnan, he had yet to visit the Three Mountains and Five Peaks, which still felt like a loss.

Suddenly, the old fisherman seemed to be choked by his own spit, his curses ceased, he hunched his back, tilted his head slightly, and stared intently in one direction without blinking.

The man in black sneered, "Is the little bunny still going to bite?" He then sidestepped, curling his fingers into claws, reaching for the boy's back. In the moonlight, his hand appeared not to be made of flesh and blood, but emitted a faint, cold blue light, ready to strike with lethal intent

The young man gritted his teeth, drew a sword from his waist, and lunged at the man in black, exclaiming, "I will kill you!"

The black-sailed boat quietly parted the river water, and on the riverbank, a girl called out softly, "Water chestnuts, selling water chestnuts." It was as if time flowed as slowly as the river water. Zhou Zishu thought to himself, even if I were to die here, it would be worth it.

The woman on one side wiped her tears and said: "Mr. Li, if anything were to happen to you, who would our young master rely on?"

Although he currently has no worries in his heart and can sleep soundly until dawn at the slightest touch of straw, he still needs to be in a disturbance-free environment. However, the sound of footsteps and voices not far away in the middle of the night still woke him up

To have him watch so vigilantly, it is likely that the distant acquaintance who exchanged glances is not an ordinary person either

A one-inch long lotus-shaped hidden weapon was nailed to the spot where the man in black had just stood

The young girl smiled, and Zhou Zishu focused his gaze, noticing a purple figure flash by the doorway. It was indeed the little girl who had threatened to poison him today. He felt that he was certainly destined for an extraordinary encounter today, as nearly half of the grievances and entanglements in this desolate temple were with people he had encountered before

The old fisherman glared with his pair of copper bell-like eyes, looking as if he wanted to unleash a torrent of curses and insult the ancestors of the person in question. However, as if recalling something, he ultimately swallowed his words, huffily rowing away in his boat.

Before the words had left his mouth, he lunged forward, and the young man hurriedly reached out to support him, but he too was exhausted and fell to the ground along with him, his voice tinged with tears: "Uncle Li..."

The injured person wore a bamboo hat, and it was unclear whether he was conscious. He was being supported by a teenager of about fourteen or fifteen years old, who appeared to have some martial arts training but lacked strength, panting like a sickly cow as he struggled to carry the injured individual. Accompanying them was an elderly woman dressed as a servant, clutching a cloth bag in her arms, stumbling along as she hurried after them.

Crossing the river costs only a few copper coins, yet Zhou Zishu generously gave the old fisherman a piece of broken silver. The old fisherman felt no guilt in accepting it, pocketed the money, and left with an expression akin to that of a creditor, perhaps even feeling that the amount was insufficient. Upon reaching the opposite bank, the old fisherman impatiently urged him to leave: "Hurry up, hurry up, don't delay my important business."

At the moment the young boy stepped through the temple door, he resembled a startled little beast, cautiously glancing around with wide eyes. Zhou Zishu lay in the shadow of the Buddha statue, his breath barely perceptible. Initially, the boy did not notice him and whispered to the man wearing a bamboo hat, "Uncle Li, let us hide here for a while. I want to take a look at your injury..."

The old fisherman angrily shouted: "Damn it, such a big pie can't even shut your mouth. You have a pie to eat and still complain about this and that. Starve you little brat for three days, and let's see if you still don't say it tastes good..."

However, what does it have to do with him, a person who is well-fed while his family is not hungry, amidst the current disputes and controversies

The old fisherman forced a smile and said in a low voice: "Are you still not a man? Where does all that horse urine come from? I... I am not completely dead yet..."

Zhou Zishu wandered around all day long, and by evening, he found himself outside the city. He located a small pond and washed away the discomfort that he could hardly bear, managing to clean himself up to look somewhat presentable. After that, he contemplated finding a place to spend the night. After walking about a mile, he came across a dilapidated abandoned temple, so he entered, spread out some straw, curled up at the foot of the Buddha, yawned, and fell asleep

He spent half his life mingling with a group of genteel scoundrels, originally just a smooth talker who would speak in roundabout ways. He had never spoken so disrespectfully in broad daylight before, but at this moment, he blurted out such a remark and felt an immense sense of relief, as if everything that had been pent up in his chest had been completely released.

The young man then stood up, his face covered in dust, and shouted loudly, showing no signs of fear, before charging forward with bare hands.

As he raised his head, his words suddenly halted. Zhou Zishu also saw clearly that this person was the old fisherman who had ferried him across. There were knife wounds on both his chest and back, and he looked like a blood gourd. He immediately sat up straight: "It is you?"

Zhou Zishu glanced over and immediately recognized that this girl was likely a servant or concubine of the man in gray. Although she was somewhat willful, her appearance was quite to his liking. However, she belonged to someone else, so he did not linger on her and withdrew his gaze, continuing to deal with the dry cake in his hand

The old fisherman glared at her, took a deep breath, and trembled as he said to the young man: "I... am also a person of no ambition... I only repaid your father’s kindness from years ago with my life, and I have nothing else to offer..." He began to cough, and with each cough, his body would convulse once, "Kid, remember this..."

Zhou Zishu had no intention of meddling in others' affairs, but considering the bond of having shared a boat with the old fisherman, and seeing that the boy was still young, he was reluctant to witness such a young life being extinguished. He had already pinched a small stone in his hand, and just as he was about to flick it away, a sudden whistle pierced the air. The man in black's gaze sharpened, and he performed a somersault on the ground, causing the boy to miss his target.

The man in black twitched his face, his eyes jumping erratically—Zhou Zishu thought it was the scar on his face that had caused it, making his face somewhat stiff, as if he had suffered a stroke, fierce yet somewhat comical. He could only hear him angrily exclaim: "Where did this little wretch come from?"

As he watched the small boat sway and drift away, Zhou Zishu calmly said: "Damn it."

Before he could finish speaking, the person who was left with only half a life broke free from the young man, encouraged himself to stand upright, and cupped his fists in the direction of Zhou Zishu, saying: "Ahem... this friend..."

Three individuals appeared at the entrance of the dilapidated temple, and a strong smell of blood assaulted the senses. Zhou Zishu opened his eyes and frowned.

Zhou Zishu felt a bit strange, so he slightly leaned out of the boat and followed his gaze.

As I was about to say something, a hurried sound of footsteps came from the temple entrance. A man in black strode in, his face unmasked, revealing a scar from a knife. Upon seeing the three individuals at the end of their rope, he grinned with a crooked smile, saying, "Well, you certainly have run quite far."

Zhou Zishu leisurely tossed the last piece of cake into his mouth, stretched lazily, crawled out of the cabin, and mumbled, "Are you in a hurry to be reincarnated?"

Old Fisherman Qiao fell silent, and Zhou Zishu felt a bit lonely, so he shouted, "Old man, this pancake lacks a bit of saltiness, whether it's coarse salt or fine salt, you might as well add a little more."

A young girl exclaimed in a delicate voice: "Goodness, in the dead of night, there are actually such shameless people who bully the elderly and the weak in the wilderness."

Zhou Zishu felt a stir in his heart, as the voice was familiar—he retrieved the small pebble that he had not thrown and slowly lay back down, quietly observing the changes.

Old fisherman Zhou twitched slightly, and Zhou Zishu couldn't help but lean forward. He noticed that the blood flowing from him had a strange purple hue, and his lips were a dark shade of iron blue, which made him furrow his brows.

As soon as he opened his mouth, it seemed as if there was an unstoppable trend; Zhou Zishu smiled, biting into the dry biscuit with renewed vigor, feeling somewhat cheapened.

The old fisherman and woodcutter gazed intently at the two people walking along the riverbank—none other than the gray-clad man and the beautiful young woman from the tavern. Although the old fisherman's hair was white, his eyes were sharp and piercing. Upon closer inspection, one could see that the temples hidden beneath his disheveled hair were slightly bulging, and his large hands were rough and sinewy. It goes without saying that Zhou Zishu, if not blind, could easily discern that this old man was not to be underestimated.

The old fisherman chuckled bitterly and said, "Damn it, it's you, the beggar..."