Yan Yi'an had originally wanted to see whether the Old Monk, who had suddenly passed away at the police station, had any unusual methods up his sleeve.
In the end, the Little Monk searched with a compass for ages before saying something Yan Yi'an had said several times recently: "Dig."
Yan Yi'an: "..."
Were the people in your mysticism circle really this plain and unadorned when it came to hiding things?
Yan Wan seemed to see the speechlessness and overwhelming urge to complain in his eyes. She lightly patted his arm with her gloved hand and softly comforted him, "At least we found it."
They had already spent most of the day driving around this endless expanse of snow. If they still could not find it, Yan Wan would have suspected that this monk had deliberately deceived them.
Of course, she still had her doubts. "If you came here alone, how were you supposed to retrieve it?"
This location was not merely outside the country. Judging by its latitude and longitude, it was practically near the Arctic Circle.
If the Little Monk had come alone, never mind digging through the solidly frozen ground—even clearing the snow on top would have kept him busy for quite some time. By the time he got the item out, it would have been far too late.
The Little Monk turned and gave her a cool look, mocking her as though she had said something idiotic. "This is how my wonderful master guarded against me."
"So your master-disciple bond..." Yan Wan paused, choosing a relatively tactful term, "was really pretty plastic."
This time, the Little Monk did not refute her. Instead, he nodded in wholehearted agreement.
"Do you hate him?" Yan Wan suddenly asked.
The Little Monk said, "Hate him? Why would I?"
"Because he