"": 200,
"": "",
"": "Nanping City was full of mountains and waterways. The newly built districts were fine, but in the old city, a mountain appeared every few stretches of road. Some had been developed; others were crowned with unfinished buildings.
The mountains with unfinished buildings looked especially desolate.
Even the national highways passing them seemed run-down.
At a junction on a national highway beside one such mountain, they turned onto a small road leading uphill.
No one maintained the roadside. Bushes grew thickly, and some trees had grown so tall that their crowns closed over the road. It felt less like part of a city than a patch of wilderness in the outskirts.
When the car stopped in a mountainside parking lot riddled with cracks, the wind blew a dark cloud overhead, blotting out the sunlight.
The sky was so gloomy, the wind so cold, and the temple so old.
Yes, the temple was terribly dilapidated. Plaster peeled from its walls, paint flaked from its gateposts, and both leaves of the gate were covered in cracks.
The words "Fire Official Temple" on the horizontal plaque were still intact, however, and even held a hint of dark red.
Chen Zu, Luo Feng, Luo Bin, Shang Liuli, and Zhang Yunxi got out first.
Two more cars followed behind. Wen Qing, Wen Chang, and a group from the Lower Nine Streams climbed out after them.
The wind strengthened. The clouds did not drift away; instead, heavier storm clouds gathered overhead.
Zhang Yunxi led the way, with Wen Qing and Wen Chang flanking him and everyone else bringing up the rear.
Zhang Yunxi stopped before the temple gate. Wen Qing stepped forward and knocked-bang, bang, bang.
The knocks were loud, mingling with the moaning wind and taking on an almost piercing edge.