After the spring sowing, the news that Lu Liangsheng intended to build a new temple shattered the village’s usual tranquility. At times lucid and at times muddle-headed, Old Master Lu stood atop the millstone in the drying yard, leaning on his cane as he rallied everyone in the village, young and old alike.

Over the years, the village had become much more prosperous, yet most of its people had retained their hardworking nature. Some had even gone into the city or sought out skilled craftsmen in neighboring villages to learn a trade.

The villagers who knew masonry gathered together and, after consulting Lu Laoshi, decided to build the new temple on the site of the old, dilapidated Mountain God Temple. First, the original foundation was still intact, so rebuilding it with bricks and plaster would be much quicker, saving both time and money. Second, Lu Liangsheng had requested that the temple be completed as soon as possible.

The old Mountain God Temple happened to be the perfect location.

As the spring weather gradually grew warmer, by the time Lu Liangsheng arrived, construction had already begun. The desolate old temple had been demolished until only its foundation posts remained, and the weeds surrounding it had all been trampled flat.

“Cut down those trees over there too!” “And those two as well—they’re blocking the morning sun!”

“You mixing the mortar, hurry up!”

Amid the constant shouting and lively commotion, the village women and children not far from the site laughed and chatted as they mixed mud and water, filling carrying baskets. Even the sturdy old folk effortlessly hoisted dozens of jin of wet mortar onto their backs. Fortunately, the distance was short—barely a dozen zhang from the mixing pit to the construction site.

Those skilled in the craft carefully laid the mud bricks one by one, frequently lifting their brick trowels to check the alignment. Lu Laoshi and several villagers trimmed the branches from the felled trees, rolled the logs over to the temple grounds, shaped them into wooden beams, then repainted and varnished them. The entire site buzzed with activity.

After casting a small spell to ease everyone’s fatigue, Lu Liangsheng watched for a while longer before returning to the village. Back at the fenced courtyard, the book rack had long since been prepared. Aside from the Veiled Moon Sword, the only thing resting upon it was Honglian’s scroll painting.

Honglian’s former home was not far away, only twenty or thirty li north of He Valley Prefecture in a small village. If they traveled at full speed, they could reach He Valley Prefecture in little more than half an hour, so Lu Liangsheng had not bothered mentioning the trip to his parents, his master, or his disciples.

He led the old donkey over and secured the book rack in place.

A dull thud came from inside.

Frowning, Lu Liangsheng stepped over and pulled open the small compartment door with a creak. He found Toad Daoist pressing his face against the wooden wall. The moment he was discovered, the old toad hurriedly sat back down, picked up his smoking pipe, and placed it between his lips.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, his toad-like eyes slid sideways toward his disciple.

“I’ve simply grown tired of staying cooped up and wanted to go out for some fresh air. Don’t go thinking I’m accompanying you two.”

From the neighboring compartment came Honglian’s frail voice from within the scroll. “Thank you, Master Toad.”

“Hmph, what are you thanking this old master for?”

Toad Daoist lay on his side, propping up his cheek with one hand as he lazily waved a webbed foot. “Close the door for your master on your way out.”

Outside, Lu Liangsheng smiled faintly, shut the small door, led the old donkey out of the courtyard, and set off. The clear jingling of the copper bells echoed through the mountain path, and in the blink of an eye, he had disappeared over the next ridge.

Passing through Fushui County, he made a detour to the Chen Residence.

The once-grand estate now lay desolate. Of the pair of imposing stone lions guarding the entrance, one had lost an ear. Lu Liangsheng cast a Wall-Passing Spell and an Illusion Concealment Spell before entering. Inside, not a soul could be seen. Ever since Chen Yao’s violent death, Master Chen had succumbed to fright and grief not long afterward. With rumors of the estate being haunted, no one had ever dared move in again.

The vast residence stood empty, its courtyards overgrown with weeds.

Following Honglian’s directions, Lu Liangsheng arrived at a side courtyard and dug up the remains buried beneath the soil.

Wrapped in a tattered opera costume was a skeleton. Several bones had been smashed to pieces, and even the skull bore a cracked fracture.

Honglian turned her face away. It sounded as though she sniffled before quietly saying,

“They were afraid I wasn’t completely dead… so when they buried me, they struck me several more times.”

Lu Liangsheng fell silent.

He spread out a white cloth, carefully wrapped Honglian’s remains inside it, then cast a shrinking spell before placing the bundle into the upper compartment of the book rack.

“Let’s go.”

Not long afterward, they left the county seat and followed the official road north toward He Valley Prefecture.

The Li Family Opera Troupe was still there.

Unfortunately, after that tragedy, its business had never recovered. One by one, the members of the troupe had departed, each going their separate way.

Amid the bustling marketplace, Lu Liangsheng stood at a distance with the old donkey, watching Troupe Leader Li Yunxiu sitting absentmindedly outside the troupe’s entrance.

“He bears some responsibility as well. Do you want revenge, Honglian?”

“No… Let him remain like this. It’s enough. What meaning would revenge have now?”

Hearing her answer, Lu Liangsheng led the old donkey through the crowd and quietly departed. Far away at the opera troupe’s entrance, Li Yunxiu seemed to sense something. His vacant gaze drifted toward the marketplace.

The streets were filled with people coming and going.

Only the faint jingling of copper bells gradually disappeared into the sea of passersby.

After passing through He Valley Prefecture, the remaining twenty or thirty li was not a long journey. Even deliberately slowing their pace, they reached the village where Honglian had spent her childhood around noon.

The small mountain village had become even more dilapidated over the years. Most of its young men and women had left for nearby towns to earn a living, leaving behind only the elderly, women, and children.

When they saw the handsome young scholar in azure robes leading an old donkey into the village, they all found it rather curious, standing at a distance to watch him.

“That young fellow is really handsome. What’s he doing in our village?” “Who knows? Maybe he’s taken a fancy to one of our girls.”

“Stop talking nonsense. Just look at those clothes—they’re worth a fortune. Why would the son of a wealthy family fall for some wild village lass?”

“What if he likes women who are bold and sturdy, with strong, broad waists?”

“Hey, hey, look! What’s he carrying an umbrella for? Good heavens, he’s even got a toad sitting on his shoulder. That scholar… there’s probably something wrong with him.”

From afar, under the curious gazes and whispered conversations of the villagers, Lu Liangsheng took an oil-paper umbrella from the book rack and opened it. He let the old donkey wander off on its own before carrying his master on his shoulder and walking in the direction Honglian guided him.

The old house that had once collapsed was long gone. In its place stood a newly built courtyard, where a family of three sat together, enjoying a lively meal.

“It’s just like when I was little, sitting in the courtyard with Father and Mother. Come, Young Master. Beyond here are the graves of my parents and younger brother.”

“Mm.”

Holding the umbrella, Lu Liangsheng turned away from the low mud wall and crossed the fields until he reached a small wooded hillside. Countless funeral banners fluttered above rows of graves.

The villagers all buried their dead here. The older the grave, the deeper it lay within the grove.

Passing several earthen mounds, Honglian drifted out from the paper umbrella. Before three graves—two large and one small—she knelt.

“Father… Mother… Yun’er has come back to see you.”

The dense canopy allowed little sunlight to filter through. Kneeling before the graves, Honglian gently lowered her forehead in a kowtow.

Ghosts possessed neither physical bodies nor tears, yet the sobs caught in her voice were unmistakable.

The things she had wanted to say had all been spoken during her first return after death, before her parents’ graves. Now, she simply knelt there in silent grief.

Lu Liangsheng stood quietly beside her, holding the umbrella over her.

The toad on the scholar’s shoulder slowly opened its mouth and let out a long sigh. Catching his disciple looking at him, Toad Daoist hurriedly folded his webbed arms across his chest, lifted his chin, and puffed himself up.

“What are you looking at? Your master is merely moved by the scenery.”

“Let’s wait outside. Let Honglian spend a little more time with her parents.”

Looking at the graceful figure kneeling before the graves, Lu Liangsheng spoke softly. He used a thread of spiritual energy to suspend the paper umbrella above her before walking out to the edge of the field and sitting down.

He, too, had parents.

Seeing such a scene, it was impossible for his heart not to feel heavy.

Yet after he had sat there only a short while, a cool breeze stirred behind him.

Turning around, he saw Honglian holding the paper umbrella herself. Looking at Lu Liangsheng’s surprised expression, she smiled gently.

“It’s enough that I’ve seen them. There’s nothing left here for me to cling to.”

“Young Master, take me home.”

The home she spoke of was Lu Village.

“Good, I’ll take you home.”

Lu Liangsheng nodded, his voice soft.

Birds glided across the brilliant spring sky. Grass swayed gently in the breeze.

The clear jingling of copper bells drifted through the air.

From within the village, the chatting villagers watched from afar as the old donkey leisurely made its way toward Qixia Mountain. Upon its back sat a young man and a young woman, nestled close together beneath a paper umbrella, as its unhurried hooves carried them steadily home.