"Who is Old Eight?"
Inside and outside Baolin Temple.
Accompanied by the occasional clatter of falling rubble, Chen Yi's voice carried far across the barren, rocky Gobi.
Dust rose and billowed, veiling the full moon and stars overhead in a haze.
Moonlight spilled down in a misty glow.
Through it, everyone inside Baolin Temple could just be seen frozen in place.
Some lay sprawled on beds with their clothes disheveled; some held wine bowls, letting the wine spill over themselves; others stood on tables as though they had been holding forth.
But more were pinned to the ground by that overbearing Heaven and Earth Spirit Qi, unable to move.
Their expressions differed, but fear filled every face. Only their eyes moved, darting helplessly around.
A long while passed.
Silence returned.
The dust dispersed.
Xi Yanqiu glanced at Chen Yi's back, then hesitantly stepped forward and said respectfully, "Senior, my elder brother knows Old Eight. Why not let the two of us go find me?"
Hearing this, Qiu Shan stepped forward too and cupped his fists. "Rest assured, my lord. I'll find him for you."
Chen Yi glanced sideways and nodded slightly. "Go."
"Yes!"
Once Xi Yanqiu and Qiu Shan ran into Baolin Temple, Chen Yi clasped his hands behind his back without easing the pressure of his Heaven and Earth Spirit Qi.
He looked at the filthy scene inside Baolin Temple and slowly exhaled.
The Tea Horse Road was not the Wei Dynasty, after all, nor was it Shuzhou.
The people of the Poshushuo Kingdom and the Buddhist Kingdom were not Wei people either. They were not steeped in propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame, did not study the Confucian Dao classics, and mostly followed savage ways.
Along the way, Chen Yi had seen far too much filth like that inside