"": 200,
"": "",
"": "Knock, knock-knock.
Three more knocks sounded at the door.
Dai Yan remained in the shadows and did not answer it.
Inside the main hall, beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down Zhou Ling's forehead and those of the others.
Dai Zhixiong sat motionless.
Out of the corner of his eye, he scanned the courtyard walls.
Knock, knock, knock.
The knocking continued, always in sets of three.
No one opened the door.
The knocking did not stop.
Finally, at a signal from Dai Zhixiong's eyes, a Six-Arts Fangshi stepped forward and pulled the courtyard gate open.
The Six-Arts Fangshi was wary, ready to retreat at once.
He looked straight ahead, but no one stood before him.
When he looked down, however, he saw a man lying on the ground.
The man's skin was dark, yet possessed an indescribable softness, like newly grown skin, with a faint pink tinge beneath the black.
His features were plain but resolute, with a hint of... compassion?
He was a monk.
But there was something wrong with him.
There should have been eyebrows above his eyes. Not only did he have none, but black mud filled the brow ridges, as though the bones had vanished and been replaced with mud.
The calluses and scars on the monk's hands had been worn open.
The Six-Arts Fangshi's brows knitted tightly.
Dai Yan, lurking in the shadows, was equally puzzled.
Dai Zhixiong sat expressionless in his chair.
Zhou Ling's heart trembled.
Every other disciple of Six Yin Mountain stared fixedly at the monk by the gate.
"Who are you?"
The Six-Arts Fangshi asked in a low voice.
"This humble monk is Kong An."
The monk raised his torso upright, but his knees remained on the ground. At first glance, he appeared to