A bowl of white rice was placed in a wooden alms bowl.
Little Stone, dressed in a tattered monk's robe covered in patches, held the bowl and politely gave thanks.
"Thank you, benefactor~"
Carrying the rice he had begged for back beneath the tree to eat, Old Hui Xian sighed over how well his own Bamboo Mountain had chosen its location. Look at this place—Favorable Winds and Timely Rain, peace and prosperity throughout the land. Begging for alms was easy, and one needn't worry about going hungry while traveling. Hopefully, they could save enough money soon and return to repair the temple. This place was far wealthier than that little town had been.
The Snake Demon Boy gnawed expressionlessly on a radish, crunching loudly.
Shuying was still considering whether to draw her sword and subdue demons. The boy beside the old monk was a demon!
The hostility was obvious. The sharp-sensed Snake Demon Boy had noticed her long ago. He had encountered plenty of such people during his years mingling among humans—raising lofty banners without distinguishing black from white, while truly acting for private gain.
Little Stone squatted beside the snake demon and shoveled down rice. His back itched, so he pressed it to the trunk and rubbed back and forth. The riverside was peaceful at night.
The bustle of the lantern festival in the distance seemed very far from the willow tree...
After finishing his meal, Old Hui Xian sat in meditation and contemplated Zen.
Having licked every grain of rice clean from the bowl, Little Stone scooted over beside the snake demon. He raised his chin toward the female cultivator at the nearby bridgehead, who had been staring at them for a long while. It was Shuying, still unable to make up her mind.
"Why has that woman