Mingling Arrives

The man opened his mouth, but in the end, swallowed his words.

He truly was hungry as well. Picking up the bowl, he began to eat.

The wontons were piping hot, and the broth had been simmered from bones—thick, white, fresh, and fragrant. He ate too quickly, slurping from the heat until the corners of his eyes reddened.

After finishing the bowl, he set down his chopsticks and was just about to say something.

Then he suddenly saw a transparent insect fly over through the air, no bigger than the pad of a thumb, its entire body crystalline and gleaming.

Without missing by a hair, it landed squarely on Shen Hui's forehead, then seemed to melt into his skin and burrow inside.

The man stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, one finger pointing at Shen Hui's forehead.

"Dao... Daoist... just now... just now, a bug... burrowed into your head..."

Shen Hui opened his eyes, his expression unchanged.

He rose to his feet, placed a stack of copper coins on the table, and said to the man,

"Find a place to stay first."

The man still wanted to ask more, but Shen Hui had already walked away.

The two made a round through the town and found only one exceptionally shabby inn.

The inn had just one floor and three rooms, front and back. The proprietor was a lame old man who said that his little business barely turned a profit; he provided only food and drink, not lodging.

Shen Hui did not force the matter. He left the town with the man and settled down in a ruined temple outside it.

The temple had long fallen into disrepair, with most of its roof leaking away. Only one side hall remained relatively intact.

Shen Hui sat cross-legged in the hall and closed his