Little Pink Starfish

Your Master Must Have Been a Woman in His Past Life

Mo Wen raised an eyebrow as he watched Xian Zong gulp down the fine tea that should have been savored slowly. He looked at the smooth stone ground in front of him, his eyes smiling, but he said no more.

Xian Zong still felt thirsty. Mo Wen kept silent, and Xian Zong was on the verge of tears; he didn’t dare speak anymore either.

At this moment, Gu Xinglang was drowsily sitting inside a small sedan chair with sapphire blue panels. Li Wan sat quietly beside him, her head bowed. The Big Boss followed behind the sedan, and Xiao Wei walked at the very front, leading the way. The group didn’t stop until they reached the palace gates.

A general of the Imperial Guards personally lifted the sedan curtain.

Li Wan lowered her head so much that her chin touched her chest, her hands tightly clenched in nervousness.

“He’s one of the prince consort’s guards,” Xiao Wei said to the general beside him.

The general sensed something was off with Li Wan. Her clothes didn’t fit properly, and more obviously, she was trembling. An inner palace guard escorting the prince consort out of the palace—should he really be so scared he was shaking? “Which commander do you report to?” the general asked Li Wan.

Li Wan had disfigured her face after entering the palace and had been hiding away in a prayer hall ever since. How could she possibly know the names of the Inner Guard commanders? Her body trembled even more violently.

“Why aren’t we moving yet?” Gu Xinglang forced his eyes open and said, “I’m not feeling well. How much longer are we going to wait?”

Xiao Wei reached out and let the curtain fall, then said, “General Liu, the prince consort needs a physician once he returns home. What do you think?”

General Liu replied, “Where’s their pass to leave the palace?”

“Verbal order from His Majesty,” Xiao Wei said. “If it’s the token you want, General Liu can ask the eunuch on duty at His Majesty’s side.”

Just as General Liu was about to speak again, another general surnamed Qian walked over and said, “Since the prince consort is unwell, they should return as soon as possible. Don’t delay his treatment.”

“Mm,” Gu Xinglang responded weakly from inside the sedan, clearly lacking strength.

“We’re leaving,” Xiao Wei didn’t wait for General Liu to speak and immediately ordered the eunuchs carrying the sedan.

Once the Big Boss followed the sedan out of the palace and breathed the air beyond the palace walls, though it was no different from the air inside, he felt as if he had come back to life.

The two generals of the Imperial Guards watched Gu Xinglang and his group depart. Only when they were far away did General Qian quietly say to his colleague and friend, “The Princess and the Gu family are in favor right now. Why are you provoking Gu Xinglang?”

“But that inner palace guard in the sedan…”

“Say no more,” General Qian cut him off. “Gu Xingnuo is still managing affairs in the palace. Even His Majesty doesn’t interfere. If you raise any suspicions now, who are you expecting to reward you?”

General Liu fell silent. The Zhao family’s young lady had tried to assassinate the junior abbot of Yongsheng Temple. Regardless of how it was resolved, he didn’t believe the Zhao family could make a comeback.

“But why didn’t the Princess return home with the prince consort?” General Qian muttered to himself.

General Liu didn’t respond. For people like the Princess, ordinary folks like them could only look up to her. Get too close, and they’d probably die, right?

So where was Yu Xiaoxiao now?

At that moment, Yu Xiaoxiao was standing on the rooftop of the small courtyard from the previous night. From this vantage point, she could see the entire courtyard. Below, the small courtyard contained three monk corpses lying on the ground. Judging by their bones, they were all followers of Wuhuan. Yu Xiaoxiao felt she had come too late—if Wuhuan’s men were already dead, that meant Mo Wen had already made his move.

Damn.

Yu Xiaoxiao tapped her foot on the roof tiles like a drumbeat. Brother Gu had told her to be careful not to be followed by Mo Wen’s men, but their intelligence gathering was already so good they didn’t even need to tail people to find the enemy. Now what? Should she go back and ask Mo Wen for someone?

Just as Yu Xiaoxiao was considering returning to the palace, she heard a faint groan behind her. She quickly turned around. Behind the house was another small courtyard, but with her sharp eyes, she hadn’t noticed anyone there before. Leaping down from the rooftop, Yu Xiaoxiao stood in the center of the courtyard, holding her breath and concentrating. Now she could even hear pedestrians chatting outside the courtyard.

In the dungeon, after a night and morning, the corpses of Chen Qi and Chen Mie began to rot, releasing a foul stench. Two hearts lay on the ground, partially eaten—whether by rats or cockroaches, no one knew.

Two monks stood inside the cell, staring at the corpses of Chen Qi and Chen Mie for a long time.

Outside the cell, Wuhuan leaned against the wall, flanked by five monks keeping a tight watch on him.

“You killed monks of the Chen generation. Are you truly going to oppose the abbot to the end?” the monk standing in front of Wuhuan said as he turned to face him. This monk was clearly over seventy, but his eyes were sharp and full of vitality—clearly someone with profound internal strength.

Wuhuan remained silent.

The two monks holding Wuhuan’s arms tightened their grip when they saw him ignore the old monk’s question.

Wuhuan grunted.

The old monk shook his head and said, “Back then, the abbot never should’ve favored you.”

When the pain in his wrists subsided, Wuhuan finally said, “Having the head of the Martial Monk Academy come after me… I’d say the abbot still holds me in high regard.”

The old monk coldly replied, “What’s the use of talking back to me? You’d best think about what you’re going to say to the abbot.”

Wuhuan’s face was still hidden behind a wooden mask, smeared with large streaks of blood, as if painted in red lacquer.

“Take the bodies of Chen Qi and Chen Mie,” the old monk ordered. “Bring this man to the abbot.”

The monks pushed Wuhuan forward.

The old monk, certain that Wuhuan wouldn’t resist, walked behind him with hands clasped behind his back.

Inside the cell, two monks removed their robes and wrapped up the corpses. Each picked one up in his arms, chanted a quiet “Amitabha,” and walked out.

To these seven monks, Wuhuan—the former junior abbot of Yongsheng Temple and now a national teacher of Zhuri—was already a dead man. Not only had he left Zhuri without permission, but he had also killed two senior monks of the Chen generation. If the abbot didn’t execute Wuhuan, how could he maintain the faith of the tens of thousands of monks at Yongsheng Temple?

The dungeon door opened, and sunlight stabbed into Wuhuan’s eyes.

“Move!” one of the monks behind him shoved him forward.

Wuhuan staggered. He wasn’t wounded externally, but his shoulder was dislocated, and several of his major acupoints had been sealed. While he hadn’t completely lost his martial arts, fighting these seven monks would be nearly impossible.

“Who goes there?” the old monk suddenly barked before stepping out of the dungeon.

Despair filled Wuhuan’s heart as he looked up.

Yu Xiaoxiao stood before him, backlit by the sun. She glanced at the seven men behind Wuhuan and said, “Your master must’ve been a woman in his past life. Got pregnant after sleeping with you and then got dumped and murdered by you. Otherwise, why would he be hell-bent on destroying you in this life?”

Wuhuan and the senior monks of Yongsheng Temple: “…”