The Abbot gently changed the subject as he looked at his disciple's reddened eyes.
"Last night, you said a young child escorted you back when you lost your way."
The girl nodded.
"It was the one we saw at the gate before. The child suddenly appeared in front of me, cut down those terrifying creatures in a few strokes, then guided me back. The child wore coarse cloth and straw sandals, and kept tucking both hands into those sleeves."
As she spoke, she hunched her shoulders and demonstrated how the child had tucked those hands away.
Then she continued.
"The child could flick out a forked tongue. Most likely a snake demon. I don't think the child can speak yet."
The Abbot gently closed the book in his hands, the corners of his mouth lifting.
"Sounds like that little snake often dealt with mountain folk and learned their mannerisms. Skilled in combat, too, with a little cultivation to speak of."
His disciple cast him a worried look.
"Don't worry. Your master isn't some hidebound fool. We cultivators come into the mountains for peace and quiet ourselves. Since that little snake hasn't harmed anyone, why make trouble for the child?"
Smiling, he asked out of curiosity.
"Tell me how that little snake cut down those creatures."
A hint of anticipation shone in his eyes as he spoke.
The girl breathed a sigh of relief, carefully recalled what had happened, and gave an earnest account.
"With a sword. Very fast, with clean, decisive movements."
She failed to notice her master lifting his chin slightly, his expression seemingly rather pleased.
After a pause, she added.
"But there didn't seem to be any method to it. It was all a jumble, relying entirely on speed and brute force. I suppose the child never properly