This is the true immortal of the Taoist sect.

Li Daoxuan had discovered the little girl long ago. About ten days ago, when he was teaching Qingfeng to read in the courtyard, the little girl secretly climbed up the ancient camphor tree outside the courtyard to eavesdrop.

Li Daoxuan didn't care and didn't hold back, continuing to teach Qingfeng without reservation.

What Li Daoxuan didn't expect was that the little girl was so intelligent. Just by listening in and without even being able to see, she was able to learn faster and more steadily than Qingfeng, whom he was teaching hand in hand.

The key is that the little girl is able to draw inferences from one instance to another and arrive at her own thoughts and judgments.

This is quite commendable.

Li Daoxuan still ignored her, letting her continue eavesdropping outside. Sometimes he would deliberately ask questions that were beyond Qingfeng's comprehension, aiming to enlighten the little girl.

Today marks the first time the little girl has taken the initiative to open up and talk to Qingfeng.

Li Daoxuan pushed his wheelchair out of the room, and Qingfeng rushed to help him.

Upon hearing that Li Daoxuan had come out, the little girl scurried down the ancient camphor tree and disappeared.

Li Daoxuan turned to look at the camphor tree and asked curiously:

"Qingfeng, there doesn't seem to be any other house to the east of our yard. Do you know where this little girl came from?"

Qingfeng shook his head and replied:

"There are no blind girls in this alley. Should I go and ask around?"

Li Daoxuan thought for a moment and shook his head, saying:

"Forget it, let it be. If she comes again, invite her into the courtyard. It's not good for her to keep sitting in the tree listening to lectures..."

Upon hearing this, Qingfeng's heart stirred, and he immediately understood Li Daoxuan's meaning.

"It seems the master is considering taking on a disciple..."

Just then, Li Daoxuan's tone turned serious as he said:

"Alright, start reciting, not a single word can be wrong."

Qingfeng's body stiffened, and a hint of tension appeared clearly in his eyes.

After calming himself down, he began to recite the text, swaying his head as he did so.

The little girl's words echoed in his mind. He needed to visualize the scene, remember the imagery, and the sentences would naturally follow.

Sure enough, the memory became clear, word by word, without any more pauses or mistakes.

After reciting the entire Thousand Character Classic, Qingfeng looked at Li Daoxuan nervously, waiting for Li Daoxuan's evaluation.

Li Daoxuan deliberately remained silent for a long time before turning to the east courtyard wall and saying:

"You memorized it well, but you still need to improve."

Qingfeng let out a long sigh, clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, saying:

"yes..."

Li Daoxuan smiled and raised his voice:

"Tomorrow at Chen Shi (7-9 AM), I'll teach you something new..."

Qingfeng naturally understood that Li Daoxuan was speaking to both him and the little girl outside the courtyard, so he cooperated by saying:

"Yes, disciple will certainly not be late..."

Outside the courtyard wall, the little girl squatting under the tree smiled with delight upon hearing this, bowed towards the courtyard, and then groped her way to turn around and leave.

Night fell, the moon was dark and the wind was strong, and it was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

The night should not be so cold and damp during the Lesser Heat season.

Li Daoxuan awoke from his cultivation, frowning as he looked out the window. He seemed to sense something unpleasant.

He wanted to get up and investigate, but his legs were too weak to move, so he had to suppress his thoughts for the time being.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On a street in the city, a night watchman walked along the Luoying River, which flows through Anyi County, when he suddenly saw a small boat swaying slowly by.

The boatman on the boat was stiff and numb as he rocked the oars, like a puppet on a string.

The night watchman squinted at it and couldn't help but mutter:

"Why are they setting out on a boat in the middle of the night?"

As the boat drew closer, the watchman finally saw that the boatman was no longer human. His flesh was withered and dry, and blood was flowing from his seven orifices. He was dead beyond any doubt.

"Oh my god..."

The night watchman was so frightened that he lost his composure and turned to run away.

A white figure detached itself from the boatman on the ship, moving at great speed, and instantly caught up with the watchman, seemingly merging with him as if they were one.

The night watchman stood there, stunned, his eyes glazed over.

A dense network of blood vessels suddenly covered the whites of his eyes, but they faded away in the blink of an eye, returning him to his usual appearance.

He then continued his dazed patrol, calling out numbly:

"The weather is dry, be careful with fire..."

At the same time, on the rosewood table in the county magistrate's office in Anyi County, the imperial seal bestowed by the emperor suddenly moved, emitting a faint light.

But no one noticed this insignificant anomaly. After the white figure merged into the watchman's body, the official seal returned to its calm state, showing no signs of abnormality.

When the night watchman returned home after his shift, his wife, who was still awake, asked in surprise as he pushed open the door:

"Why are you back? You usually stay until the wee hours of the morning?"

The night watchman said nothing and turned to walk into the inner room.

Pushing open the door to the inner room, one finds only a dim oil lamp.

Bathed in the warm orange light, one could see a porcelain doll-like little girl lying on the bed in the inner room, a smile on her lips, seemingly dreaming of something happy, sleeping soundly.

......

The next morning, Li Daoxuan pushed open the door and went out.

I looked up at the sky; it was gloomy and dark, with no sign of the sun.

For some reason, Li Daoxuan felt inexplicably agitated.

He subconsciously turned his head to look at the ancient camphor tree, and the image of the little girl who had been eavesdropping involuntarily came to mind.

"They should come, right?"

Li Daoxuan muttered something to himself.

At Chen Shi (7-9 AM), Li Daoxuan and Qingfeng sat facing each other in the courtyard.

Both of them turned to look at the ancient camphor tree on the other side of the courtyard wall.

Looking at the bare branches, Qingfeng tentatively asked:

"Sir, perhaps...we should wait a little longer?"

Li Daoxuan smiled slightly and shook his head.

"No need, come on, let's begin. Today we'll be learning the Book of Songs..."

The sound of reading aloud echoed in the courtyard, drifting over the walls and landing on the treetops, but today there was no response at all.

After a morning of activities, Qingfeng went out after lunch to buy some daily necessities.

He looked rather strange when he returned.

Li Daoxuan, who was refining medicine, glanced at Qingfeng and his expression changed slightly.

He stopped what he was doing and asked:

"Where did you go? What happened?"

As he spoke, Li Daoxuan flicked his finger, sending a wisp of magical power onto Qingfeng, dispelling the faint trace of yin energy.

Qingfeng felt a sense of relief, and his whole body felt lighter. When Li Daoxuan asked, he honestly replied:

"I went out to buy something just now, and when I passed by Xinghua Lane next door, I saw that it was crowded with people, so I curiously squeezed in to take a look and found out that there had been a murder."

"The night watchman and his wife died together in their home."

Li Daoxuan frowned, thinking about the slight yin energy that Qingfeng had picked up when he returned earlier, and couldn't help but feel a little suspicious.

"How did they die? What were their deaths like?"

Qingfeng shook his head.

"I didn't see the couple's bodies, but I heard passersby say that their deaths were horribly gruesome, and that they were possibly haunted by evil spirits."