One person said: The essence of Wuhou Qimen lies not in Qimen, but in Wuhou.

Xiaoyu did not answer.

He stood behind Tian Jinzhong, his hands still mechanically kneading the old man's withered shoulders, but the expression on his face, which had just been full of obedience and ignorance, had changed silently—the obedient and humble smile at the corner of his mouth disappeared in an instant, replaced by a deep and thoughtful solemnity that was completely incongruous with this young man.

His gaze changed from innocent and naive to sharp and profound, as if something that had been suppressed for a long time was being carefully torn open at this moment.

His gaze pierced through the dimly lit room, landing directly in the direction where Zhang Zhiwei had disappeared outside the door.

There was nothing in that dark courtyard except for the rustling sound of the mountain wind blowing through the bamboo forest.

He then turned his gaze back and subtly glanced at the transparent evidence bag on the table.

The Taoist certificate still lay quietly in the sealed bag, the stamp in the lower right corner gleaming with a dim metallic sheen under the lamp.

Then he blinked.

When he raised his head again, his expression had returned to its obedient and humble state, as if everything just now was merely an illusion caused by the lighting.

He continued to massage Tian Jinzhong's shoulders carefully and skillfully, humming an unknown mountain tune, its light and pure melody flowing slowly through the dimly lit room.

……

On the west side of the Celestial Master's Mansion, there is a secluded woodshed.

The woodshed was small, with mud walls on all four sides and a few bare wooden beams on the roof. Piles of firewood, about half a person's height, were stacked in the corners, and the air was filled with the smell of dry wood and a faint stench of blood.

An emergency light hung from the roof beam, its stark white light illuminating everything in the room.

A person lay flat on the ground—no, a corpse.

His face was ashen, his lips were purple, and there were still half-dried water stains at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were half-open, and his pupils were unfocused.

His hands were placed at his sides in an unnatural posture, his fingertips slightly bent, as if he was trying to grasp something before he died.

There were no wounds or bloodstains on his body; he lay quietly on the cold ground, as if he were simply asleep.

Rong Shan and Zhang Lingyu were squatting beside the corpse, both with solemn expressions.

Rongshan opened the deceased's eyelids to check the pupils, then pressed the side of the deceased's neck with his fingers. He straightened up, his expression changing from solemn to deep self-reproach, and whispered, "Master."

Zhang Lingyu stood behind Rong Shan, silently watching the corpse. The coldness on her face was even more pronounced than usual, her thin lips were tightly pressed together, and the red mole on her forehead looked like a drop of congealed blood under the pale light.

Outside the woodshed door, Dou Le, the head of the East China region, had his back to the door and held his phone tightly to his ear.

His back was straight but not stiff, and his free hand hung at his side, his fingers unconsciously pinching the seam of his trousers.

Under the emergency lights, his expression was a complex mix of fatigue, alertness, and secret relief, but when he spoke into the phone, his voice remained in that standard reporting tone: "Hello, Chairman."

Here's the situation—the criminal suspect who impersonated a Taoist priest and was arrested by the Celestial Master's Mansion of Longhu Mountain died suddenly while in custody, and the specific cause of death has not yet been determined.

I came straight here after landing in Shanghai. When I arrived at the Celestial Master's Mansion, Master Rongshan told me that the person had already passed away. The person was accompanied by the Taoist priests of the Celestial Master's Mansion the whole time and never left.

That's the situation. I've finished reporting.

Zhao Fangxu's voice came from the other end of the phone, deep and steady, each word conveying an unquestionable solemnity, but beneath that solemnity lay a deep sense of prudence and caution.

He spoke slowly, but every word carried weight: "Dou Le, I need you to give me a 100% answer now."

I'll ask you one last time—when death occurs, are you before or after it?

Dou Le gripped his phone tightly, took a deep breath, and then said, word by word, in a tone of absolute certainty that brooked no hesitation or doubt: "Chairman, I guarantee with my Party spirit—until the end."

When I arrived at the woodshed accompanied by Daoist Rongshan and Daoist Zhang Lingyu of Longhu Mountain, the person had already passed away, but the body was still warm.

Since arriving, I have not approached the body; all the examination work has been handled by the Taoist priests of the Celestial Master's Mansion.

Throughout the entire process, I maintained a safe observation distance.

Zhao Fangxu paused for a moment.

The silence on the other end of the phone made Dou Le feel his temples throbbing.

Then Zhao Fangxu spoke again, his tone slightly gentler than before, but his wording remained as cautious and solemn as ever: "Very good."

You handled this matter very well.

After the Taoist priest of the Celestial Master's Mansion—or the Celestial Master himself—has personally checked it, send me a confirmation message.

I will contact Director Zhuge right now to report this matter.

The situation is urgent, Dou Le, you must handle it well and keep it in mind.

Do not act rashly, do not get into conflicts with anyone, and do not say a word before the leader makes a statement.

Do you understand?

"I understand, Chairman."

After Dou Le finished speaking, he waited for the busy tone of the call to indicate that it had been disconnected before putting down his phone.

He stood there, facing the half-bright, half-dark moon in the night sky, and exhaled a long breath.

That breath turned into a wisp of white mist in the night sky, slowly dissipating.

Then he made an extremely subtle movement—his chest rose and fell slightly, and his shoulders slumped down less than an inch, as if he were unloading some invisible weight from his shoulders.

He silently said to himself, "I almost failed."

I flew here from Shanghai in a great hurry. Luckily, there are no direct flights from Shanghai to Guixi City. This long journey by taxi was worth it.

There is no way to verify the truth since the dead are dead.

What kind of mess is this?

It's clearly a case of murder to silence witnesses, but who did it? Did the Celestial Master's Mansion do it? Impossible, that would be like trying to hide something obvious.

Was it Quanxing who killed them? They've gone too far, even reaching into the Celestial Master's Mansion.

On one side is a high-ranking leader, and on the other is the pinnacle of the superhuman world. Both are Buddhas, and I can't afford to offend either of them.

I have to go to a meeting in Nanchang tomorrow, and I don't know if I'll be able to make it back after I finish this tonight.

If we really miss it, how will we explain it to Director Zhuge?

Just then, footsteps sounded behind them.

The footsteps were neither hurried nor slow, each step on the bluestone slab was extremely steady, accompanied by the slight rustling sound of the hem of the Taoist robe rubbing against the fabric.

Dou Le turned around and saw Zhang Zhiwei, the Heavenly Daoist, walking out of the moon gate in the courtyard. His white eyebrows and white hair shone with a faint silver light under the moonlight. His expression was unclear, but the aura of a grandmaster, condensed from a hundred years of cultivation, was not diminished in the night.

Dou Le didn't put on any airs.

He strode forward, clasped his hands in a fist salute, leaned slightly forward, and said in a respectful and solemn, yet neither humble nor arrogant, manner of the martial arts world: "Dou Le, head of the East China region of the company, pays respects to the Old Master."

I apologize for disturbing you so late at night, and I hope you will forgive me.