Master Duowen

The door to Master Duowen's reception hall was pushed open, and an old nun entered, leaning on a bamboo staff.

She looked as though she were in the twilight of her years, her face crisscrossed with wrinkles.

Her loose, sagging eyelids covered most of her eyes, leaving only a murky glimmer beneath them.

Her back was bent, her body hunched; she trembled with every step, as if a gust of wind could knock her over.

Shen Hui rose to his feet and cupped his hands in greeting.

The old nun entered the reception hall, slowly sat down, and laid her bamboo staff across her knees before raising her eyes.

Shen Hui tried to gauge her cultivation, but wherever his gaze touched was like mist-shrouded clouds, impossible to fathom.

This person was actually like Mo Yunsong and his disciple—her depth could not be seen through.

"Are you Ji Chen's disciple?"

Duowen's clouded gaze lingered on Shen Hui's face for a moment before she asked, "Your master..."

She stopped there.

Shen Hui did not answer, merely shaking his head lightly.

At the sight, Duowen's eye sockets seemed to sink slightly deeper. In the end, she let out a long sigh as well.

"The ways of the world are ever-changing."

Having said that, she shook her head again and lightly brushed the bamboo staff across her knees. "This world..."

She did not continue, leaving only the prayer beads softly rolling between her fingertips.

The two sat in silence for a while.

Only the wind chimes occasionally rang in the reception hall. Ding, ding, ding...

Shen Hui spoke first. "Martial Aunt Duowen, this junior has a question. What exactly happened in Jade Plate County below the mountain? Why was the city completely empty, without a single person in sight?"

Duowen lifted her eyelids and