"Damn, that's way too vicious." Ye Chen hid behind a rock and cursed under his breath.
With the tall, skinny Daoist's sinister smile, Wuzhuang Temple erupted into chaos.
The disciples grabbed torches and rushed toward the rear courtyard.
"Senior Brother, what's going on? Why did you summon us all here?"
"Take a look at this." The tall, skinny Daoist pointed at the ground with feigned sorrow. "Huh? What happened? How did this place end up like this!"
"Oh my god! The Ginseng Fruit Tree—how did it fall?"
The disciples stared at the scene in the rear courtyard, their faces filled with horror.
The disciple on night watch plopped down on the ground. He stared blankly ahead and muttered,
"Master, Master's going to kill me."
"I... I'm going to die." Unable to face reality, he began clutching his head and wailing.
"Enough. Even if you died right now, Master wouldn't forgive you. Unless..."
The tall, skinny Daoist grabbed the disciple and hauled him to his feet, then shouted at him.
"Unless what? Senior Brother, what do you mean, unless?"
"Right, Senior Brother, think of something! You're the cleverest one here. Hurry and tell us what to do!" The disciples all clamored at once.
The tall, skinny Daoist raised a hand, signaling for them to be quiet.
"All right, stop shouting. I already know who did it."
"Who?"
"Listen. Think about it.
After the temple was closed for the night, all the exits were shut. And the Martial Ancestor had pasted talismans at the entrance before he left. Ordinary monsters and demons couldn't possibly get inside.
The Ginseng Fruit Tree had been growing here for all these years, even before any of you arrived. It had stood firm and never wavered. So why did something happen tonight of all nights?"
The tall