Chapter 48: Temple

After the snowstorm subsided, the two set out for Nanshan Temple.

“Smell him,” Da Bao suddenly found a bloodstained scrap of cloth among the roadside rubble, pointing at Guo Ming.

Guo Ming’s eyes widened—he recognized the cloth scrap as belonging to his retainer.

Chu Danqing, seeing his expression, confirmed his suspicion.

The retainer’s clothing had torn and caught on the rocks as he was dragged away.

There were still traces left nearby; Chu Danqing looked at Da Bao and asked, “Can you follow them?”

If they could trace the trail to Zhanji Hu, there would be no need to go to Nanshan Temple.

Da Bao said nothing, climbing nimbly up a tree to scout. After about two minutes, he came down and shook his head: “No—the snowstorm covered it all.”

Without the earlier snowstorm, the remaining traces might still have been trackable.

Now, everything was blank white.

“Alas, fate is cruel,” Guo Ming sighed. He and Zhanji Hu had accumulated both new grudges and old ones.

“Take heart,” Chu Danqing comforted him. “Let’s go to Nanshan Temple first—it’s not far now.”

Guo Ming could only nod, climbing the mountain with Da Bao’s help.

When they reached the temple gate, they saw it tightly shut, and all around was eerily quiet.

Chu Danqing called out for nearly five minutes before a monk’s voice answered.

“Nanshan Temple is closed for the winter. Come back next spring,” came the monk’s voice from behind the door.

With such heavy snow and the disaster, the temple naturally dared not open.

If starving refugees came, the losses could be incalculable.

When people are desperate with hunger, they’ll do anything.

“One of my companions was injured while climbing the mountain. As monks, you uphold compassion—please lend aid,” Chu Danqing said truthfully—Guo Ming truly needed treatment.

“We have no medicine here. Better hurry down to the city and find a good physician,” the monk hesitated, then refused to open the door.

Guo Ming’s face darkened—he was already in a foul mood for many reasons, and now this.

Daily, the people offered incense and offerings, yet now, not only would they not help, they wouldn’t even open the temple gate.

“We’re not villains—just travelers enjoying the snow,” Chu Danqing said, pulling a silver ingot from his sleeve and tossing it over: “Here’s for medicine.”

He had no shortage of silver—he was a patron of the Lu family, and had received a substantial settlement fee upon arrival.

The silver landed; Chu Danqing heard the monk pick it up behind the door.

“Wait a moment, I’ll ask the abbot,” the monk said, then vanished in a flash.

“Even entering a temple requires silver to open the door,” Guo Ming grumbled.

Chu Danqing was used to it—this wasn’t even remarkable. He’d seen great monks turn their temples into listed corporations.

As long as they were willing to act for money, it was fine.

Soon, footsteps returned, and the temple gate slowly creaked open.

A tall, thin monk in padded robes strained to push the gate wide.

“Guests, please enter,” the monk said after opening the passage for the three of them.

After they entered, the monk led them to the guest quarters, examined Guo Ming’s wound, and applied medicine.

“It’s getting late today. Rest here for now; you can descend tomorrow when the weather clears,” the monk said, gathering his medicine to leave.

But Chu Danqing spoke first: “I’ve noticed the temple usually has many monks—why so quiet today?”

The monk’s eyes flickered at the question, then replied: “Yangxian County suffered a disaster; the temple can no longer feed so many.”

“So we sent many down the mountain—hence the emptiness.”

The excuse sounded plausible, but Chu Danqing didn’t believe it.

The monk’s lie was far too obvious.

Still, he didn’t expose it, feigning acceptance: “The world is harsh—even Nanshan Temple, once so prosperous, cannot withstand this disaster.”

“Indeed,” the monk replied. “Would you like a vegetarian meal?”

“No, we brought our own,” Chu Danqing declined outright.

He saw the greed flickering in the tall monk’s eyes—accepting would mean paying again.

He’d paid once; he wouldn’t pay twice.

After being refused, the monk’s eyes darkened with disappointment, and his demeanor grew cold.

He muttered a perfunctory apology and left with his tray.

“When I came here before, Nanshan Temple wasn’t so greedy and worldly,” Guo Ming wanted to curse, but he dared not speak too harshly on their turf.

“Do you think that beast might be hiding inside Nanshan Temple?” Chu Danqing didn’t respond to Guo Ming’s complaint—he voiced his own suspicion.

Guo Ming paused, confused by Chu Danqing’s sudden leap in logic.

“Unlikely—if Zhanji Hu were truly here, how could any living person remain?” Guo Ming didn’t believe it. How could Zhanji Hu ignore fresh meat right in front of it?

As for ghostly servants, that was possible—but it didn’t feel right.

“Why not?” Chu Danqing said slowly. “And there are no living people left.”

“All we’ve seen are ghostly servants.”

Da Bao had confirmed it.

While the monk was applying medicine to Guo Ming, Da Bao had whispered to Chu Danqing that the monk smelled like a corpse.

Chu Danqing suspected the ghostly servants were possessing corpses.

“So we’ve walked into the beast’s den???” Guo Ming gasped.

He knew Chu Danqing was an extraordinary man, but two against many was still perilous.

Zhanji Hu had devoured countless people—how many ghostly servants had it gathered? More than thirty or fifty?

“Precisely. That’s why we must probe the beast’s true nature,” Chu Danqing narrowed his eyes. “The abbot the monk mentioned must be Zhanji Hu.”

“It didn’t attack us immediately—perhaps it just ate your retainer and isn’t hungry yet, keeping you and me as reserve food for later.”

“Perfect. We’ll use this chance to find a way out.” Chu Danqing remained calm.

A large number of ghostly servants meant nothing—Chu Danqing feared no mob attack, even unarmed.

But Zhanji Hu, controlling so many ghostly servants, demanded careful reconnaissance.

The words Guo Ming had been about to say—“Let’s leave and get help from the authorities”—died in his throat.

He felt like a fish in a jar; even escaping seemed impossible, let alone summoning aid.

“How confident are you, Brother Chu?” Guo Ming asked hesitantly.

“Even if we can’t defeat Zhanji Hu, getting you and me out of Nanshan Temple won’t be hard,” Chu Danqing had that much confidence.

Da Bao’s physique wasn’t for show.

(End of Chapter)