The Master of Xingde Temple

He called out several times, but no one answered from the hall.

Liu Xiaolou climbed the steps and slowly approached the main hall's entrance. Only then did he notice the iron lock on the large door. It seemed the owner was not home.

He gently pushed the door, creating a small gap. Peeking through it, he saw a statue about ten feet tall standing inside the hall, its expression solemn and its eyes piercing.

Liu Xiaolou's gaze met the statue's for a moment, and he felt an ancient, vast aura wash over him, making his mind reel. He couldn't help but step back a few paces.

The statue was exquisitely carved, truly lifelike.

He steadied himself, waking from his daze, and suddenly felt a refreshing sensation enter his mind.

The mountain wind blew, carrying rain as fine as cow's hair, sweeping past Liu Xiaolou. It invigorated him. He wondered if the refreshing feeling came from the statue's gaze or the cool mountain rain.

He moved on to the east side hall and the west wing rooms. Peeking through the door cracks, he saw no one inside either. He could only vaguely make out tables, chairs, beds, and kitchen firewood – necessities for daily life.

The moon gate connecting the side hall to the main hall was at the edge of the mountain peak. A few steps beyond it lay a sheer drop of thousands of feet. Gazing out from here, the sun had already set, and the sky was now covered in thick clouds. The world was dim.

Since he was here, he would make the best of it. Liu Xiaolou decided to rest here for a few days and wait for the owner's return.

The iron lock, of course, couldn't stop Liu Xiaolou. Though the lock looked large, it was actually quite easy to pry open. However, he was here to ask for a favor, so forcing the lock was out of the question. He sat down under the eaves of the east side hall, ate some dry rations, held a spirit stone in his palm, and began cultivating with his eyes closed.

Of the nine vital acupoints of the Hand Jueyin Meridian, the Tianchi and Tianquan points had already been opened, consuming five spirit stones. Now, holding fifteen spirit stones, he wondered how many of the remaining seven acupoints – Quchi, Xiemen, Jianshi, Neiguan, Daling, Laogong, and Zhongchong – he could open. He was quite eager.

Strands of spiritual energy were converted into true essence within his body. After passing through the essence pools of the Tianchi and Tianquan points, it surged towards Quchi, knocking against the acupoint's barrier. It was like waves crashing against the barrier, creating splashes of foam. The acupoint in his elbow twitched with the impact of the true essence, visible to the naked eye.

This was a long and arduous process, not something that could be accomplished overnight. Liu Xiaolou, after ten years of cultivation, was already accustomed to it.

The night passed without incident. The next morning, he awoke from his cultivation, stretched his slightly stiff body, and went to the edge of the mountain peak to gaze in all directions.

The heavens and earth were shrouded in clouds and mist, appearing somewhat gloomy. Just like yesterday, the mountain wind carried wisps of rain, leaving his skin feeling slightly chilled.

He walked around the small, acre-sized mountain peak. He found no signs of the owner's return, but Liu Xiaolou wasn't anxious. He ate some dry rations, drank a few mouthfuls of clear water from the large vat in the corner, and continued to attack the Quchi acupoint.

Several days passed like this. The owner still hadn't returned, but Liu Xiaolou had gradually grown to like the place. Surrounded by swirling clouds and mist, undisturbed by anyone, wasn't this an ideal place for cultivation?

His dry rations had run out, so he descended into the mountain valley to hunt. Worried that the owner might not approve, he decided to eat all the wild rabbits, pheasants, fish, and crabs before returning.

By the deep night of the fourteenth day, the spirit stone in his palm could no longer absorb any spiritual energy. With a slight effort, it turned into dust and fragments. One spirit stone was depleted, but the Quchi acupoint remained unmoved. Liu Xiaolou judged that this acupoint would likely require three spirit stones to open.

He loosened his legs and reclined against the house's eaves, stretching with a yawn. He slept soundly.

While meditation could refresh the spirit, the mind couldn't be constantly tense. Over time, it still led to considerable fatigue, and even for Qi Cultivators, it couldn't completely replace sleep. He hadn't slept well in half a month, so this sleep was exceptionally sweet.

Liu Xiaolou awoke amidst a sky full of falling snow. This was the first snow of winter. The snowflakes fell leisurely, obscuring the mountains, and it felt as if only he remained in the world.

After wandering for a while, just as he was about to begin cultivating, he suddenly heard a cough from outside the temple gate.

Liu Xiaolou quickly tidied his clothes, bowed, and stood respectfully, ready to greet the owner.

After waiting for a long time, no one appeared. He went outside the temple, but still saw no one. Only the winding, rugged mountain path disappeared into the swirling snow.

He had indeed heard a cough just now. Liu Xiaolou confirmed it wasn't an illusion. He followed the mountain path downwards. As he rounded a mountain hollow, he saw a person lying diagonally on the stone steps, already half-buried by the falling snow.

He checked the person's breathing and pulse. They were still alive. Liu Xiaolou then turned him over, lifted him with one arm, and carried him back to Xingde Temple.

He placed the person under the eaves, brushed off the snow, revealing his appearance. This person was tall and slender, at least half a head taller than Liu Xiaolou. He appeared to be around forty or fifty years old, with three strands of beautiful beard under his chin, giving him a dignified look. Although his complexion was pale now, it didn't diminish his handsome and elegant demeanor.

Checking his pulse again, he could tell the person had suffered internal injuries, seemingly between the heart and lungs.

Who was this person?

Liu Xiaolou reached into his clothes, pulling out a pile of miscellaneous items, hoping to find something that could identify the person or perhaps some healing spirit elixirs. But there were only a few gold ingots, a handful of scattered pearls, two pieces of jade, and two spirit stones.

Huh? These two pieces of jade were similar to the jade token he carried; both exuded a strong spiritual energy.

Liu Xiaolou's eyes flickered as he looked back and forth between the two pieces of jade and the two spirit stones. Well, the gold ingots amounted to ten taels, and those scattered pearls were each unusually large and round, clearly not ordinary pearls.

He looked again at the path leading down the mountain, and the heavy snowfall... Should he...?

As he was contemplating, the handsome bearded gentleman coughed again, spitting out streaks of blood with his cough. He was coughing so violently that it roused him from his unconsciousness. His eyes were half-open, and he grabbed Liu Xiaolou's arm.

Liu Xiaolou was startled. With a gentle tug, he broke free, only to hear the man mumble a few words, which he couldn't quite make out.

He saw the man raise his other arm, point towards the eaves above, and then his arm fell back powerlessly. He slipped back into unconsciousness.

Liu Xiaolou leaped upwards with a flick of his toes and found a key lodged in a beam under the eaves where the man had pointed.

He tried the key in the lock. With a gentle turn, the iron lock clicked open with a "snap."

Alright, now he understood. This handsome bearded gentleman must be the owner of this place. But he wondered how many people were at Xingde Temple, and if this gentleman was Lord Xingde.

Pushing the door open, he found that this side hall also had three rooms. The main room contained the octagonal table and two chairs on either side that he had seen through the door crack earlier, as well as an altar table against the wall. The left wing room had a large bed, and the right wing room had shelves along the wall, piled with various implements.

Liu Xiaolou dismissed any other thoughts and carried the handsome bearded gentleman into the bedroom. He removed the dirty, disheveled robe covering him, laid him down on the bed, and found a thick blanket in the cabinet to cover him. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

After thinking for a moment, he gathered the scattered items from the ground outside the door and placed them by the man's pillow.

This Daoist came seeking a formation disk, not to steal. I'll spare these belongings.

So, what should he do next?