"": 200,
"": "",
"": "They followed the fork into the tower-shaped building.
There was only a ground floor here; the entire tower was hollow.
A stone platform stood in the center. It looked very familiar.
Luo Bin remembered-hadn't there been a platform just like this where Kong An had imprisoned Bai Xian?
Rinpoche walked up to the stone platform and stroked it with his withered hand.
"They... killed her."
Unlike the tone he used when speaking Tibetan, Rinpoche's voice was now harsh and hoarse, clearly filled with tremendous anguish and suffering.
Rinpoche had yet to awaken. He still didn't know who he was.
Hatred governed his actions, and he had already gained some ability to foresee things, allowing him to recognize the problem with He Dongsheng.
Otherwise, how could a Living Buddha possibly accept Black City Monastery's "protection"?
"Who was she?" Luo Bin asked.
"My daughter," Rinpoche murmured.
Suddenly, his body trembled, and he staggered several steps back.
Thick blood suddenly spread across the stone platform, painfully vivid and reeking of a pungent, salty tang.
A slender young woman appeared on the platform.
She was extraordinarily beautiful, with a delicately upturned nose, brows like slender willow leaves, and eyes like alpine lakes. The people of the plateau possessed an exotic beauty, and she combined that quality with classical Chinese grace.
Youthful, pure, and yet poised and gracious.
Such qualities rarely appeared together in one woman, but here they were.
Only, blood covered the space beneath her, soaking her back and dripping from the edges of the stone platform.
Her lower body, in particular, was drenched in blood.
Her mouth hung slightly open, a severed stump of tongue writhing within,
and blood had crusted in her ear canals.
Like the woman's vengeful spirit Luo Bin had seen earlier, her ears