After leaving Shaolin Temple, Xiao Feng felt utterly lost. All his life, he had believed he was Han Chinese, only to discover that he was Khitan, his hands stained with the blood of his own people. It was a wonder he had not gone mad on the spot.
As he wandered aimlessly, he suddenly noticed a young novice monk following him. He turned and asked, "Little monk, why do you keep following me?"
The young novice pulled off a human-skin mask and shed the monk's robes, revealing her true appearance.
"It's you, A Zhu," Xiao Feng said.
"Yes, Brother Qiao," A Zhu said.
"Well, why are you following me? Also, I've reverted to my original surname. My name is Xiao Feng now," Xiao Feng said.
At that, A Zhu gathered her courage and said, "Brother Xiao, I followed you to thank you for saving my life last time."
Xiao Feng waved a hand. "It was hardly any trouble. Don't mention it."
"Brother... Brother Xiao, the truth is, I've fallen for you ever since that battle. When I heard you had gone to Shaolin Temple, I followed you all the way there. I happened to see you leaving, so I followed behind you," A Zhu said, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Xiao Feng gave a bitter smile. "A Zhu, I'm Khitan. My hands are stained with the blood of my own people..."
"Brother Xiao, whether you're Han Chinese or Khitan, it's you I love, not your ethnicity," A Zhu interrupted.
Then she threw herself into Xiao Feng's arms.
For a moment, Xiao Feng did not know what to do.
"My, is this really the bold and heroic leader of the Beggars' Sect? A Zhu has already made the first move, yet a grown man like you is being so coy," the