Early that morning, Temple Priest Jiang crossed paths with the old Daoist Zhang Fang, who had come expressly to worship the god.
The Daoist was well known around Jinzhou City and had often visited the temple over the past three months.
After all, in the last two or three months, aside from this old Daoist, several other Daoists and scholars had also been making frequent rounds of the River Lord Temples.
"Go about your business, Brother Jiang. This poor Daoist will find somewhere to rest."
After parting from the Temple Custodian, Zhang Fang settled into a shady spot. When he looked up, he could see the statue atop the altar inside the temple hall.
"Ever since the Clay Idol changed its appearance, the whole river has grown calmer. Quite a few of the River Lord's worshippers have received guidance in their dreams and escaped disaster because of it. All of this is nothing like the former Water Lord's way of doing things. Could someone else truly have taken his place?"
Zhang Fang's Daoist Temple stood beside a tributary of the Great River, so naturally he paid attention to what happened along it. More important, though, was his nephew.
Not only had Zhang Jingbei failed to return; several others Zhang Fang knew were still missing as well. Meanwhile, the River Lord had changed. How could Zhang Fang not take notice?
Putting the two matters together had given him a suspicion about the identity of whoever had seized the River Lord's Divine Authority. It seemed too preposterous to believe, however, so he kept visiting River Lord Temples in hopes of finding a clue.
In any case, I need to keep watching...
As he thought this, his expression suddenly changed. It felt as though an invisible mist had enveloped the entire River Lord