After three long and bumpy days on the road, my Master and I finally stepped off the bus in a small county town one morning.

　　“Master, is this your hometown?” I asked, curious.

　　He pointed into the distance and replied, “That’s it over there!”

　　I followed his gaze and saw a towering mountain that seemed to touch the clouds, looking almost like something out of a fairy tale.

　　“That’s...”

　　“Qiyun Mountain.”

　　Master said it matter-of-factly, but I could sense that he wasn’t in a good mood. I hesitated to ask more questions and simply followed him quietly.

　　We walked for several hours until darkness fell, finally arriving at the foot of Qiyun Mountain, where we settled down on a large rock.

　　Master pulled a baked pancake from his bag and handed it to me. As I nibbled on the pancake, I listened to him share stories about his past.

　　It turned out that when Master referred to “home,” he meant the Taoist temple where he and my grandmaster had practiced. He had begun his training at the age of seven under Daoist Master Huixin at the Xuanxin Palace on Qiyun Mountain, who was my grandmaster. However, my grandmaster had passed away less than ten years into Master’s training.

　　“Your grandmaster didn’t ascend to immortality!” Master said, taking a deep swig from his wine gourd. His eyes reflected a mix of sadness and resentment.

　　“Master, if Grandmaster could see you now, he would surely be very proud,” I said, trying to comfort him, though I wasn’t very articulate and feared saying the wrong thing.

　　“No!” Master suddenly glared at me, his intense gaze sending a chill down my spine. It felt as if he were possessed by some dark force. He abruptly stood up, downed the rest of the wine in his gourd, and added, “I will never forget what my master told me before he died. Never!”

　　I took a moment to gather my thoughts, wanting to ask Master what his grandmaster had said at the end, but his expression made me hesitate.

　　After a brief silence, Master’s mood seemed to soften a bit, and he continued, “The day your grandmaster passed, it poured rain. He must have been unwilling to leave; even the heavens were unfair to him…”

　　“Master...” I looked at him, sensing that although I didn’t know what had happened to my grandmaster, I could feel that they must have shared some special experiences.

　　Tears streamed down Master’s face, and as I watched him wipe his eyes, I felt an indescribable emotion stirring within me. He possessed not only remarkable martial skills but also a deep understanding of metaphysics. Although I had only been his disciple for less than a month and didn’t know him well, to me, Master was already an extraordinary person capable of anything.

　　“Why am I telling you all this?” Master suddenly said with a faint smile.

　　That night, my Master and I slept on that large rock, and the next morning, we continued our journey. From there, we still had to climb over another hill to reach the Xuanxin Temple.

　　I followed closely behind Master, and before I knew it, it was already noon. The mountain path beneath our feet was narrow, worn down by the passage of many people, barely wide enough for one or two people to walk side by side.

　　“Just a little longer; we’re almost there,” he encouraged.

　　Around three in the afternoon, we reached another inconspicuous hilltop, and not far ahead, I could see a small Taoist temple.

　　“Is that the Xuanxin Temple?” I asked.

　　“Yes, just a bit further up!”

　　So, Master and I climbed a little more, and finally, at four in the afternoon, we arrived.

　　The Xuanxin Temple was small and quite dilapidated. The walls were made of piled stones, and the sign at the entrance hung crookedly, with the characters for “Xuanxin Temple” barely visible.

　　As I followed Master inside, I realized that the temple was completely empty, with only a few rooms and a relatively spacious courtyard.

　　“Master, are there no other people here?”

　　“No, it’s just you and me,” he replied.

　　Master didn’t seem surprised, as if he had expected my question.

　　“Gouwa, starting tomorrow, you’ll officially begin your training with me.”

　　“Training?”

　　Master nodded and explained, “In our line of work, your skills are determined by your level of cultivation, so you must train. Do you understand?”

　　“Got it!”

　　He nodded again and continued, “The west room in the back courtyard is the study, and the room diagonally opposite is the dojo. You can meditate and practice your martial arts there.”

　　“Okay, I understand, Master.”

　　“Alright, you’ve had a long day of travel. Get some rest, and I’ll come find you first thing in the morning.”

　　With that, Master left, closing the door behind him.

　　Once he was gone, I took a moment to survey the room. It was about the same size as my room back home—plenty of space for one person.

　　The furnishings were minimal: a round table, a few stools, a writing desk, a bed, and a large cabinet tucked away in the corner. It was simple, but it felt cozy.

　　I sat down at the table and let out a sigh of relief. This would be my home from now on, and a smile slowly spread across my face as I embraced the thought.

　　After tidying up a bit, I suddenly realized I was feeling a bit hungry. I rubbed my stomach and decided it would be better to take a nap first.

　　When I’m both sleepy and hungry, I’d rather sleep than eat; I used to do the same back home when I was working.

　　So, I ended up sleeping until after ten at night. The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was to look for something to eat.

　　As I stepped out of the room, the moonlight felt cool and refreshing. While wandering through the backyard, I spotted Master.

　　He was still awake, sitting quietly in front of a grave and sipping from a bottle.

　　“Master, why aren’t you asleep yet?” I asked.

　　When he saw me approaching, Master patted the ground beside him.

　　I understood he wanted me to sit down, so I obediently settled next to him.

　　“This is your grandmaster’s grave,” he said softly.

　　“Is this where Grandmaster is buried?” I asked, surprised. The grave looked just like the ones in the village—just a small mound of earth, without even a stone tablet.

　　“No, this is just a ceremonial grave!”

　　I was taken aback. A ceremonial grave means that the deceased's body isn’t buried there; instead, it contains only the deceased’s clothing and personal items of significance.

　　However, ceremonial graves are usually used when there’s no body to bury. Why would Grandmaster have one?

　　Seeing the confusion on my face, Master chuckled softly and said, “Don’t think too much about it; you’ll understand in time.”

　　“Mm.” I simply nodded in response.

　　“By the way, why aren’t you asleep at this hour?” Master suddenly asked.

　　“Hehe, I’m hungry, Master. I came out to find something to eat!”

　　“Looking for food?” Master shot me a sideways glance. “It’s so late; just skip it. You’ll get over the hunger!”

　　“I can’t take it anymore! I didn’t eat anything at noon!” I exclaimed, rubbing my stomach.

　　Master stood up and said, “Alright, you can have a little something, but let’s make this clear: starting tomorrow, you’re not allowed to eat at night!”

　　“Okay, okay!” I nodded with a smile. Even as I agreed, I couldn’t quite grasp why I wouldn’t be able to eat at night once my training began.

　　After Master left, I searched the entire Xuanxin Temple but couldn’t find anything to eat. In the end, I had no choice but to return to my room and pull out a hard cornmeal bun from my bag.

　　This was something my sister had made especially for me; she had steamed it herself and even added a bit of sugar, making it sweet and just to my liking.

　　I quickly finished one and took a scoop of water, gulping it down. Then I lay back down on the bed.

　　As I stared at the ceiling, I imagined what life would be like here with Master in the future—both excited and curious.

　　How would such a skilled person guide me in my training?