Heading to Great Marsh Township

"Why aren't you gone yet?!" Purple Plume snorted coldly.

As though granted a pardon, the man scrambled and rolled into the bushes, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Watching his fleeing back, Purple Plume clapped her hands, her face brimming with smug delight.

Upholding justice and cracking cases with wit—so this was all there was to it.

The little monk hurried forward, carefully picked up the cloth bundle, and gave Purple Plume a deep bow. "Thank you, heroine, for coming to my aid. This humble monk is endlessly grateful."

Purple Plume waved a hand, then gave the little monk a thorough once-over. Her expression turned strange.

"Listen here, little baldy. Your cultivation might fool others, but it can't fool this heroine. What's this? You let an ordinary mortal steal your things, then got chased all over the mountain by him? What kind of Dao are you cultivating? What scriptures are you chanting?"

A cultivator at the Painting Realm level, bullied into such a state by a mere mortal—wouldn't people laugh their teeth out if word got around?

At this, the little monk's fair face flushed faintly. Pressing his palms together, he said with utter sincerity, "Amitabha. You do not know, heroine. My master taught me that those who leave the worldly life must hold compassion in their hearts..."

He sighed and glanced helplessly in the direction the man had fled. "This humble monk feared that if I acted, I might fail to control my strength and incur the karma of killing. Thus, I could only reason with him, earnestly persuading him all the way."

"..."

"Reason with him?"

Purple Plume rolled her eyes. "That reasoning of yours sure was exhausting."

The little monk had an exceptionally good temper. Rather than taking offense, he merely gave an