When Xu Yi hurried back to the secluded estate where the Ancestral Court delegation was staying, Xuan Zhuang had already arrived. He had brought only two young novice monks and wore plain robes, his manner relaxed, as though he were truly visiting a close friend.
The moment Xu Yi stepped into the hall, he clasped his hands from afar and said, "Brother Xuan Zhuang, it's been so long. I've missed you terribly." His face was so full of enthusiasm it looked ready to burst.
Xuan Zhuang proclaimed a Buddhist invocation. "Since our parting in the Western Continent, I, this humble monk, have kept Benefactor Xu in my thoughts and never dared forget you. Now that we've met again, I only wish to ask you one thing: can we let bygones be bygones and blow away the misunderstandings of the past? After all, Benefactor Xu is now the Acting Lord of the Ancestral Court, one of the foremost figures of our age."
Xu Yi said, "I've forgotten all about those old misunderstandings. Why should Brother Xuan Zhuang still remember them? Come, come! Two old friends meeting again—we must drink three hundred cups!" As he spoke, he reached for Xuan Zhuang's arm.
Xuan Zhuang found himself feeling strangely uncomfortable.
The warm smile he had always worn when facing his enemies had been a testament to his own depth and composure.
But why did meeting someone like this feel so awkward now?
By all reason, shouldn't this man have been the one feeling awkward and confused?
Just as Xu Yi pulled Xuan Zhuang into his seat, Elder Zeng came to report, "Plum Blossom Seven, the Church's Night Commander, has arrived with his men."
Xu Yi said, "What's he here for? I won't see him! Tell him I'm catching up with my good friend,