Inside the Taoist temple.
"Kid, got the urge to kill again? You're still green and don't have enough backing. Why not wait a little longer, until you're certain of winning, before setting out?" The Junk King lounged on a meditation cushion, licking an old-fashioned ice pop as he spoke, just like a child.
Lian Youming wondered whether he was imagining it, but he kept feeling that some invisible transformation had taken place in the old man's state of mind. At first, death had clung to him, and he had been steeped in the weariness of old age. Later, a little vitality had returned. Now he seemed almost to be growing young again-it was his state of mind that had changed.
And the old man knew how to enjoy himself. He had built an ice cellar in the back courtyard, and had no less to eat than down the mountain.
Outside the temple, cicadas clamored beneath a canopy of cool shade, and the bamboo rustled like rolling waves.
Yan Lingyun was beside the bamboo grove, playing with the Giant Panda trailing after her.
Lian Youming lounged against the threshold. "Trying to trap me? If I got the urge to kill but didn't go down the mountain, you'd probably give me another beating." The Junk King feigned puzzlement. "How so?"
Watching the girl run and hop about, Lian Youming grinned. "How long am I supposed to wait? I'm improving-why wouldn't my opponents improve too? Am I supposed to wait until they're weak and exhausted, their vitality spent, and they've died of old age before I act? By then, it'll be far too late."
"I can't wait. I can't." Lian Youming rested his head on his arms, listening to the cicadas in the deep shade. "In this world of countless lives and endless