Ye Qiutang's eyes, which had already dimmed, brightened with life again at his words. "Turning calamity into fortune, and misfortune into blessing... So if we stick with those two, we might be able to find a sliver of hope!"
"From his appearance, that man is certainly no one who'll die young. At the very least, Chijie Temple won't be where he meets his end." Song Tianming drew a deep breath and looked toward the courtyard gate, where Wang Fugui had disappeared for the last time. "If there really is even the slightest chance of survival in this calamity, those two are our only way out!"
"Besides, I'm certain those two are no ordinary people. As for their claim that they're from Bianzhou, I'm afraid that's a lie."
Jiang Cheng's face flashed through Ye Qiutang's mind. In a low voice, she asked, "Then who do you think they are, sir?"
For once, Song Tianming hesitated. In the end, he shook his head. "The divination reveals nothing. I'm afraid their identities are a secret of Heaven."
"But rest assured, miss. There's one thing I can say for certain: whoever they are, they're on our side for now."
"Here in Chijie Temple, they're allies, not enemies."
Ye Qiutang slowly nodded. Song Tianming's words were easy enough to understand. Lü Zhu had been willing to seek the monks' help just to kill those two. That alone said enough.
"Very well. We'll do as you say and place our hopes on those two. Let's hope... calamity turns to fortune, and misfortune to blessing!"
At that moment, the door to the West Wing was shut tight. A burly figure leaned against it, a short blade cradled in his arms.
The middle-aged man had his head bowed as if resting with his eyes closed, but no one