Bamboo Spring Temple was a good place.
Clear mountains reflected in the water, white mist drifted through the air, pressing down all the bamboo-leaf green beneath heaven.
Worn out from the journey, she decided to stay at the temple for a while to recuperate and ease her injuries. Bamboo Spring Temple was secluded and pleasant... it had an effect that made a flood dragon unconsciously set aside her savagery and agitation, calming her mind. Even her coughing had eased considerably, no longer tearing at her heart and lungs with pain.
Old Hui Xian busied himself planting vegetables and tending the seedlings, doing his utmost to maintain the temple's food supply.
The three troublemakers—Ironball, the snake demon, and Little Stone—had run off somewhere again. It was hard to imagine what a pangolin, a snake demon, and a child who had popped out of a rock could possibly get up to. Not one of them was normal.
"Cough..."
A soft cough shattered the stillness of the bamboo grove.
In the bamboo forest on the Back Mountain, Bai Yujun sat cross-legged upon a meditation cushion, her hands playing the qin. The ancient qin rang leisurely, sandalwood incense curled upward, and a pot of clear tea sat nearby. With nothing else to do, she could only play the qin and pretend at elegance. The lingering Killing Intent in her wounds was intense, and this place was well suited to suppressing her injuries.
Her jade-like fingers danced through a melody of bamboo-grove elegance. Bamboo leaves drifted down in a fluttering shower, then suddenly split soundlessly in two...
Whenever she had nothing to do, she practiced sonic attacks. By merging them with her understanding of wind, she strengthened their power. Every sweet, pleasing note concealed invisible killing intent. She mimicked the essence of green bamboo: stalks