A carriage slowly rolled up to the mouth of an alley, where two old men were playing a board game.
The carriage passed them and stopped outside a house.
The driver was a man in his forties. Holding a whip in one hand, he lifted the carriage curtain.
Two men immediately climbed down, supporting a rather attractive woman between them.
The woman had already passed out, and they carried her into the courtyard.
There were more than ten other men in their thirties in the courtyard, their chests bare and sharp knives tucked at their waists.
A bushy-bearded man came out of the house. "Why did you only bring back one?"
"Boss, things have been tight lately!"
The bearded man glared fiercely at his subordinate, but could only say helplessly, "Take her inside first."
Inside the hall.
A monk knelt on a prayer cushion, tapping a wooden fish and reciting scriptures.
The bearded man pushed the door open and entered, saying respectfully, "Dharma Master Biqing, we've brought her."
Monk Biqing stopped chanting without turning his head.
"Why is there only one?"
His voice was cool and carried a chill.
The bearded man swallowed. "A lot of women have gone missing lately. Things are a little tight, so it's hard to grab any."
Silence fell over the hall.
The bearded man's heart was taut with fear; he hardly dared to breathe.
Only after a long while did Bi Qing say languidly, "Remove her hands and feet."
His voice was soft, yet every word rang clear.
The bearded man breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes!"
"Amitabha."
A kindly smile touched Monk Biqing's lips. What stood before him was no statue of the Buddha at all.
Instead, it was a row of wine jars-five in all.
A human head protruded from each wine