"Skree!" "Clack, clack, clack, clack."
The cries of cranes woke Yang Binghong and Lin Xianjie from their dreams early that morning.
Lin Xianjie had slept soundly, and killing more than a dozen people the night before had not cost Yang Binghong a wink of sleep either. In fact, it had been the most comfortable night's sleep either of them had enjoyed in quite some time.
To his delight, Lin Xianjie also discovered that his internal injuries had healed. At least, he could no longer feel any blockage or pain in his meridians. Only a few superficial wounds remained.
They rose and came out of their room. Seeing neither Yan Bo nor Yuan Zhaoning, they headed outside through the open door.
Only now, with daylight spreading, could they see the scenery outside clearly.
Vegetation grew all around the stilt house, near and far. From what Uncle Yuan had said last night, most of it was probably flowering plants. In the wetland a short distance below, a flock of white cranes strolled leisurely, playing and occasionally probing underwater with their long bills for grass roots and loaches.
"Oh, you're awake?"
Yuan Zhaoning's voice reached them. They looked toward it and finally noticed the old man tending a patch of ground beside the house. The intruders had trampled quite a few flower seedlings there yesterday.
The two hurriedly cupped their hands in greeting, though he did not see them.
"Uncle Yuan, where is Immortal Master Yan?"
Only when Lin Xianjie asked did the old man turn toward them.
"Mr. Yan went into the mountains. He said he wanted to meet the fellow cultivators there and wouldn't be back anytime soon. Also..."
The old man paused, his gaze settling on Yang Binghong.
"If this young man's injuries have healed, he should leave. Mr. Yan