My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

Miao Gui leaned against the jujube tree, opened his eyes, glanced at A Luo, then closed them again without saying a word.

Shen Zhaoyue, holding the knife, leaned against the door frame, expressionless, but her gaze lingered on the chubby baby for a moment.

Ye Qingfeng leaned back in his chair, looked at the chubby baby, remained silent for a while, and then smiled. The smile was faint, but very genuine.

"What can you do by coming with me?"

The chubby baby was stunned for a moment.

He lowered his head and thought for a moment, counting on his fingers: "I... I can find ginseng, I can find lingzhi, I can find all kinds of medicinal herbs. I can also use earth magic, although sometimes I can't... I can also... I can also..."

He thought for a long time but couldn't come up with an answer, and his face turned red with anxiety.

He lowered his head, his hands clasped together for a while, then suddenly raised his head, his eyes brightening.

"I'm a treasure trove! My whiskers can be used in medicine, my urine can stimulate the growth of herbs, and even my farts can..."

Lü Yang burst out laughing and quickly covered his mouth.

Miao Gui opened his eyes, his lips twitched, and then he closed them again.

Shen Zhaoyue remained expressionless, but the fingers holding the knife twitched slightly.

A Luo blushed and gently patted the chubby baby.

The chubby boy didn't understand why everyone was laughing. He felt that what he said was the truth, and he pouted in grievance.

He thought for a moment, then added in a much softer voice, "When you use it, could you please use only a tiny bit? Don't use too much, otherwise it will hurt a lot if the wound gets bigger."

Ye Qingfeng looked at him and remained silent for a moment.

The chubby baby felt a little uneasy under his gaze and shrank back.

He didn't know what he had said wrong, nor did he know whether the immortal master would agree.

He lowered his head, his hands twisted together until his knuckles turned white.

Ye Qingfeng smiled, a smile that was a little deeper than before.

"Okay. Then you'll come with me from now on."

The chubby baby looked up, his eyes brightening for a moment before dimming again, and whispered, "Really?"

Ye Qingfeng nodded.

The chubby baby jumped down from A Luo's arms, ran to Ye Qingfeng, looked up at him, and said in a childish voice, "Immortal Master, you are so kind."

He thought for a moment, then added, "Better than Lü Yang."

Lu Yang's hand, which was wielding the sword, almost twitched.

"Hey, you little rascal, what have I done to offend you?"

The chubby baby hid behind Ye Qingfeng's chair, poked half its head out, and stuck out its tongue at him.

Lu Yang was so angry that his face turned red, but he couldn't do anything about it.

A Luo's eyes reddened as she looked at the chubby baby hiding behind Ye Qingfeng's chair.

She stood up, walked to Ye Qingfeng, bowed, and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "Thank you, Immortal Master."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand without saying a word.

The chubby baby crawled out from behind the chair, ran to A Luo, hugged her leg, looked up at her with red eyes.

A Luo squatted down, hugged him, and kissed him on the forehead.

The chubby baby squinted, looking completely content.

Aro released him, untied a red string from her wrist, and tied it to the chubby baby's ankle.

The red string was old and faded, with a small bell tied to it. The bell was now mute and could no longer be rung.

But she wore it all the time, a gift from her mother.

She brought the bell to her lips and blew on it gently. The bell didn't ring, but she felt that it had.

"This was given to me by my mother," she said. "Here you go."

The chubby baby looked down at the red string on her ankle, reached out and touched the mute bell, then looked up at A-Luo, tears streaming down her face.

At Shen Shi (3-5 PM), the sun begins to set in the west.

Ye Qingfeng stood up from the rocking chair, straightened his clothes, put his hands behind his back, and walked out of the courtyard gate.

Lu Yang followed behind, the sword hanging at his waist, chest puffed out, looking every bit the superior man.

Miao Gui followed behind Lü Yang, carrying a small bundle on his back.

Shen Zhaoyue walked at the back, holding a knife, her face expressionless.

The chubby baby squatted on Miao Gui's bundle, gripping the straps with both hands, like a little monkey.

A'Luo stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching them walk out, without following them.

She stood there, clutching the half-eaten apple that the chubby baby had taken a bite out of, her grip tight, apple juice seeping through her fingers and dripping onto the ground.

She watched their backs as the gray-blue figure turned a corner at the end of the alley and disappeared.

She stood there for a long time, until the alley was empty and there was nothing left, before she turned around and walked back into the courtyard.

The leaves of the jujube tree swayed gently in the wind, rustling as if they were saying something.

She looked up at the jujube tree for a long time, then squatted down and placed the piece of apple in her hand next to the tree root.

A breeze blew by, ruffling her hair. She reached up to smooth it, stood up, and went inside.

......

Ye Qingfeng walked to the entrance of the Ginseng Temple, where the clan elder was sitting on the threshold, basking in the sun.

He saw Ye Qingfeng approaching, and quickly stood up, leaning on his cane to greet him.

He wore faded gray clothes, his hair was neatly combed, and he had a smile on his face, but there was a hint of reluctance in that smile, as if he knew something but didn't want to think about it.

"Daoist Master, what is this...?" The clan elder looked at Lü Yang, Miao Gui, Shen Zhaoyue behind Ye Qingfeng, as well as the little child squatting on the bundle, and understood.

Ye Qingfeng nodded: "I've troubled you for several days, it's time for me to go."

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

"Words Become Law, This Poor Taoist Priest Truly Doesn't Want to Show Off His Might in Public" is currently being serialized on Cola Novels and is not to be missed!

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

If you could only read one fantasy novel in your entire life, it would probably be "Words Become Law, This humble Taoist Priest Truly Doesn't Want to Show Off His Sainthood in Public."

Ye Qingfeng nodded: "I've troubled you for several days, it's time for me to go."

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

The next chapter is even more exciting: Chapter 263 We will meet again if we are destined to. We look forward to your visit.

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

Remember our domain name: [domain name omitted], you can read our content anytime.

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

Ye Qingfeng nodded: "I've troubled you for several days, it's time for me to go."

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

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This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

Ye Qingfeng nodded: "I've troubled you for several days, it's time for me to go."

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

The latest chapter of "《" has been updated. Come and follow the updates on Cola Novels!

The elder opened his mouth, wanting to say "stay a few more days," but he knew he couldn't persuade him to stay.

This Taoist priest wasn't from their village; he had his own path to follow.

He nodded, leaning on his cane, and led Ye Qingfeng to the pavilion next to the temple.

"Please have a seat, Daoist Master. I will go and brew a pot of tea."

Ye Qingfeng waved his hand, took out a roll of something from his sleeve, and handed it to the clan elder.

It was a scroll, tightly rolled up and tied with a red string.

The clan elder took it, then paused, stunned. "Daoist Master, this is…"

Ye Qingfeng said, "At sunset five days from now, a person will come from the east side of the village. Give this painting to him."

The elder looked down at the scroll in his hand, not knowing what was depicted inside, nor why the Taoist priest would hand it over to a stranger.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply nodded, holding the scroll tightly in his hands as if it were some extraordinary treasure.

"At sunrise five days from now, on the east side of the village. I've noted it down."

Ye Qingfeng nodded, turned around and walked out of the pavilion.

The clan elders followed behind, escorting them to the village entrance.

He looked at that gray-blue figure and remembered that when he first came here, he had walked away in the same way.

Unhurried and unperturbed, as if taking a stroll in one's own backyard.

"Master Daoist," the clan elder suddenly spoke, "will you be returning?"

Ye Qingfeng didn't stop or turn around. His voice drifted over from ahead, very soft, but every word was clear.

"If we are destined to meet, we will meet again."

The clan elder stood at the village gate, watching that figure walk further and further away, until it finally disappeared into the twilight.