Master Dehua

Twilight haze hung heavy, the ancient temple steeped in the wear of time, moss creeping up its vermilion walls, the leaves of towering old trees rustling in the breeze.

Creak—

The carved wooden door swung open without a wind, an invisible pressure spilling from outside into the hall.

Three figures stepped through the scattered fragments of light, pacing slowly to the temple entrance.

At the lead was a handsome young master, clad in a moon-white brocade robe embroidered with starlike dark patterns, waves of martial aura radiating with each step.

This handsome young master was none other than Langya Xing!

"Master Dehua, I've long admired your reputation!" Langya Xing spoke again, his voice warm and noble, unmistakably that of a scion of a prestigious house, echoing through the hall without fading for a long time.

Meanwhile, in the small courtyard outside the ancient temple, the atmosphere was tense and bristling.

A group of monks, gripping meditation staffs, stood on alert, tightly encircling Langya Xing and his two companions.

The shadows of the staffs loomed like an iron wall, as if the slightest move from Langya Xing's party would invite a thunderous strike.

Langya Xing, in his moon-white brocade robe, let the hem sway gently in the breeze. He lifted his eyes slightly, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping casually around him.

That sweep, seemingly offhand, betrayed utter indifference to everything.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, composed smile as he spoke: "Does Master Dehua truly believe these rabble can stop me?"

His voice was low, yet every word rang clear, echoing through the small courtyard with an oppressive weight that could not be ignored.

Inside the hall, Master Dehua let out a soft sigh, the sound carrying a trace of helplessness.

He slowly raised a hand and waved it lightly, signaling the monks to disperse.

The monks were clearly reluctant, their brows furrowed, eyes filled with worry and reluctance, their staffs gripped tighter in silent protest.

But Master Dehua's authority was absolute. In the end, under his firm insistence, they left, glancing back with every step.

Once the monks had gone, Langya Xing straightened his robes and strode into the hall with steady steps.

He first raised a hand and waved lightly; the hall doors slammed shut, shaking dust from the beams to fall in a soft cascade.

Then, with a calm expression, he gave Master Dehua a slight bow of a junior, straightened up, and stated his purpose: "Master, this junior has come to request your aid in dealing with the Carefree Prince's Estate." His voice was firm and resolute, his eyes revealing an unshakable determination.

Master Dehua sat quietly on his meditation cushion. Hearing this, he shook his head slightly, his eyes serene: "This old monk has entered the gate of emptiness and has no intention of meddling in worldly affairs again. The strife of the jianghu is but passing clouds to me."

His tone was gentle, yet carried an unyielding finality.

Langya Xing seemed to have anticipated this answer. Unhurriedly, he reached into his robe and produced a token.

The token was cold to the touch, engraved with a lifelike celestial dragon pattern—unmistakably a token of Tianlong Temple.

He presented it to Master Dehua. The moment Master Dehua saw the token, his calm expression shifted slightly, a flicker of complexity in his eyes.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Where did this token come from?"

Langya Xing did not answer directly. Instead, he fixed his burning gaze on Master Dehua and pressed on: "Master, with this token, will you come out of seclusion to help?"

His eyes were full of anticipation, as if awaiting an answer that could mean life or death.

Master Dehua sank into thought, his gaze shifting between the token and Langya Xing.

After a long pause, he shook his head again, his tone still gentle but tinged with regret: "Even with this token, this old monk's mind is made up. I truly cannot leave seclusion."

Hearing this, Langya Xing did not grow angry. Instead, he laughed.

His smile was inscrutable, as if he had another card to play.

Then, he reached into his robe once more and produced a slip of paper. He stepped forward slowly and handed it to Master Dehua with both hands.

Master Dehua took the paper with some confusion and unfolded it.

In an instant, his pupils contracted sharply, shock spreading across his face. He rose involuntarily and exclaimed, "This is—?"

Langya Xing smiled faintly and said softly, "Third Uncle sends his regards."

His voice was low, yet it struck like a stone thrown into a still lake, stirring a thousand ripples in Master Dehua's heart.

Master Dehua was silent for a long time, his eyes a tangle of memory and struggle.

Finally, he spoke slowly: "I can act, but I will only help you capture people, and this old monk must guarantee his safety. I will not involve myself in anything else."

With that, he closed his eyes slowly, as if shutting out the world.

Langya Xing heard this and a satisfied smile spread across his face: "That is enough. Then this junior will take his leave."

So saying, he turned and strode away with his two attendants.

His steps were light, clearly pleased with the outcome.

Master Dehua sat back down on his cushion, picked up his prayer beads, and began to turn them slowly.

Yet from the slightly hurried pace of the beads, his inner turmoil was far from calm.

At that moment, the other three old monks exchanged glances, their eyes filled with confusion and concern, but in the end, they said nothing and resumed their chanting. The low, resonant sutras seemed to try to smooth over all the disturbances of the world.

Just then, a breeze drifted in, gently brushing through the hall, lifting the slip of paper from the floor. On it was written: "Little monk, do me a favor."

The calligraphy was ancient and vigorous, as if bearing the marks of time.

Outside Tianlong Temple, the three from Langya Xing had already reached the spot where they had tethered their horses. The servant beside him asked curiously, "Young Master Xing, what exactly was that note? It actually managed to move Master Dehua!"

Langya Xing cast a slight glance at the servant beside him and asked, "Oh? You want to know?"

The servant replied with an awkward expression, "It's not that I desperately want to know, just a bit curious."

Langya Xing didn't look at him, speaking instead, "That note was written by Third Uncle."

"Third Uncle?" The servant was taken aback at first, then froze as if something had dawned on him, stammering, "Your Third Uncle—that would be the Ninth Elder, Elder Langya Liu!"

Langya Xing nodded slightly and continued, "Sixty years ago, before Third Uncle broke through to the Innate realm, he once traveled under the alias Liu Yalang through the jianghu of Great Yan."

"Back then, Master Dehua was just a young monk of ten-something years. Third Uncle guided him in his martial arts cultivation."

"That must have been when their bond was forged." Langya Xing said with a faint sigh.

The servant exclaimed in surprise, "So the one who was once the number one under heaven in Great Yan decades ago, the expert revered as the 'Finger Demon,' was actually our clan's Ninth Elder!"

"Mm." Langya Xing acknowledged with a grunt, saying nothing more, though a glimmer of longing flashed in his eyes.

After all, it was precisely after his travels through Great Yan that Langya Liu returned to the clan and broke through to the Innate realm in one fell swoop!

And he, Langya Xing, likewise yearned to break through to the Innate realm and become an Innate expert!