The Yamen

"It looked awful. No one in the Household had died, so why were you wearing white?" Yang Xiaohai remembered that, in the past, people only wore white cloth on their heads when someone at home had died.

"You just don't understand. Old Granny said that as long as we wear this, Lord Shidu will bless us. You should wrap one around your head too."

"A strip of white cloth can earn a Bodhisattva's blessing? If it were really that easy, how could there be poor people anywhere under heaven?" Yang Xiaohai sighed. Sometimes, he truly did not know which of them was older.

Seeing the five white-clothed heads inside the carriage, Yang Xiaohai said, "Get down. We'll stay at this inn tonight and set off tomorrow morning."

To the left of the carriage stood an ordinary inn. The tables and stools looked as if they were coated in a layer of grime, but that was exactly what Yang Xiaohai wanted. Staying somewhere too nice would not do; wealth should not be flaunted.

The five gathered around an Eight Immortals Table. Once one meat dish and three vegetable dishes were served, Yang Xiaohai and Monkey Child dug in with great relish. Yet the old woman was still sucking on her stones.

"Old Granny, eat something. That stuff won't fill you up," Zhao Xiumei urged.

"Ah, you all eat. This is good stuff."

Zhao Xiumei wanted to say more, but Yang Xiaohai kicked her under the table.

Having seen her casually smash someone's head open with a stone, Yang Xiaohai felt that eating them might be some kind of cultivation method, just like Senior Brother Li's cultivation.

It was better not to ask about such private matters, lest he overstepped the line.

Yang Xiaohai promptly changed the subject. "Old lady, where are