Three days ago, Yue Buqun had safely returned to Mount Hua with the rest of the Huashan Sect.
That very day, he ordered his disciples to lie low and focus on their cultivation. He also began keeping a close watch on them, strictly forbidding anyone from mentioning the incidents that had taken place on the road back from Fuzhou.
What he was worried about, or what he was planning, was anyone's guess.
In any case, after returning to Mount Hua, the Huashan Sect's disciples all went back to their quiet routine of practicing martial arts and swordsmanship morning and evening. The only exception was their eldest disciple, Linghu Chong, who had repeatedly defied his master's orders by drinking. Yue Buqun settled accounts with him after the fact and sentenced him to three months meditating in seclusion on the Cliff of Reflection.
And, just like that!
A certain troublesome little girl went back to sleeping until midafternoon, living off the mountain's bounty, and frequently sneaking up the mountain in the dead of night to catch wild animals for a late-night snack.
See?
The back of Mount Hua was a place of steep, jagged peaks, wreathed in mist. Beside a trap, a certain troublesome little girl was fiddling with something, apparently having caught some prey.
Just then!
An old man came walking through the moonlight, his white beard fluttering and his blue robe neat and unruffled. His sharp eyes quickly fixed on the small figure working beside the trap.
He wasn't the scruffy old man Annie had met before. Who else could he be but Feng Qingyang?
"Heh!"
"Little friend, we meet again."
He stroked his beard and watched her for a moment before smiling faintly and speaking in a deep, measured voice.
"??"
(.)
Annie glanced up at him in surprise,