The bamboo grove was deep and quiet, birdsong crisp and clear.
Bai Yujun liked the coolness of bamboo groves. It was not hot, the climate was pleasant, and it was exceptionally livable for snakes.
The ruined gate of Bamboo Spring Temple stood crooked, on the verge of collapse. The Snake Demon Boy carefully propped it up with a thick bamboo pole, repeatedly making sure he was bracing the frame rather than the rotten planks, afraid that using too much force would damage the gate. Carpenter Monkey had not come to Bamboo Spring Temple in a long time.
A lush, verdant bamboo forest lay serene and secluded, with a dilapidated temple of Blue Bricks and Grey Tiles halfway up the mountain.
Having rested at Bamboo Spring Temple for over a month, Bai Yujun prepared to return to the Daoist sect. Her master had invited her back on the second day of the second month, and after delaying for so long, it was time to go have a look.
Bai Yujun stepped over the threshold, worn into a hollow.
Qing Ling, Old Hui Xian, and the other friends came out to see her off. Longface had not come; he was in the rear courtyard carrying water and growing vegetables.
Beneath the gate pavilion, the crooked plaque had already cracked.
"Enough, enough. It's not as if we'll never see each other again. Take this dragon's advice: there's no rush to destroy the Hell Rift. What matters is staying alive in one piece."
When it came to scraping by, a certain Bai was a seasoned expert.
Many powers across the immortal realms were unwilling to clash head-on with hell. Using resistance against the Devil Race as an excuse, they turned a blind eye. Bamboo Spring Temple was powerful, but too few in number. It