A single green lamp burned in the Ancient Courtyard, while the calls of frogs and insects sounded now and then in the Lotus Wind, lending the night a deeper hush.
In the dilapidated main hall, two figures sat cross-legged by the dim, yellow candlelight. One was a man in a blue robe, with an ordinary face and a steady, imposing bearing. The other was not yet ten, with a shaved head, rosy lips, pearly teeth, and a gray robe that hung a little too loose on him. His eyes were full of childish innocence and bewilderment.
He looked at the blue-robed man opposite him, scratched his bald head, and, unable to contain his curiosity, opened his wide eyes and asked:
"Master, how many bugs are calling outside?"
"That's your hundred-and-first question," the blue-robed man replied, his voice even.
"Uh..." The little novice froze. How had that become his hundred-and-first question? He'd been trying so hard to restrain himself!
According to his master's rules, he could ask at most a hundred questions a day. But—but he really was curious!
He lowered his head, crestfallen. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out. But tomorrow there'd be so many interesting, new things to ask about. A hundred questions simply weren't enough. He had to spend them carefully!
A child's gloom came and went quickly. The little novice soon looked up again, his eyes round as marbles. "Master, Master, you promised to continue the story tonight, didn't you? I want to hear Qi Zhengyan's story!"
"Qi Zhengyan's story..." The blue-robed man repeated it, sounding almost wistful, almost as if he were savoring a memory. "Where did we leave off?"
"You said Qi Zhengyan had been sent to Yi City as an assistant in charge, but then his cousin's hands and feet had