After listening to her account, Song Qingshu finally understood the general course of events. It was a rather clichéd story: she had run away from home alone and encountered several foreign monks on the road. Seeing that she was pretty and by herself, they had harbored evil intentions. Though she knew martial arts, they outnumbered her, and she was soon overwhelmed. Fortunately, a woman in black robes happened to pass by, helped hold them off, and told her to flee first.
"How skilled was that woman in black?" Song Qingshu asked.
The girl thought for a moment before answering, "Her martial arts were exquisite, but she probably wasn't a match for those foreign monks either. That's why I was in such a hurry to find help."
Song Qingshu nodded, then suddenly seemed to remember something. He studied the girl's face carefully. "Miss, have we met before?"
"Have we?" The girl froze, then her face reddened. "My grandmother said men love deceiving young girls. You're not the kind of man she warned me about, are you?"
"Perhaps I remembered wrong." Seeing the girl watching him warily, Song Qingshu could not help but smile wryly. What he had said did sound like an attempt to strike up a conversation, and a particularly clumsy one at that. Still, he truly felt that she looked somewhat familiar. He had met far too many people over the years, though, and could not be sure whether they had met.
Suddenly, voices came from ahead. "You bitch, how dare you ruin our fun!"
"You injured several of our brothers. Your moves were truly vicious!"
"Too bad you're nowhere near as beautiful as that little girl earlier. What rotten luck."
"How about you go after that little chick, and leave this one to us?"
"Cut it out. This