Miss Truth
Chapter 208 - 132: Cremation

Chapter 208: Chapter 132: Cremation

Su Fu’s arm moved slightly, and a short knife slid from his sleeve into his hand. These years living on the edge, he couldn’t sleep without a blade by his side.

After a long standoff, the murderous aura on Xiao Song suddenly dissipated. He leaned in close to Ran Yan’s ear and whispered, "However, since Mrs. Seventeen asks for it, I can be without principles, but..."

Xiao Song curved his lips slightly, glanced at Su Fu, and without finishing his words, turned and left the courtyard.

But what? Ran Yan turned to look at the swaying door, slightly lost in thought.

Su Fu quietly put back the short knife, leaned against the wall, and said to Ran Yan, "Thank you."

Ran Yan regained her composure, walked onto the corridor, and reached out to grasp Su Fu’s wrist. She felt his pulse and said, "You’re finally out of danger."

The two of them sat down on the corridor floor, while people in the courtyard, frightened by the recent tension, silently went about their own business.

"What are your plans for the future?" Ran Yan turned her head to look at his pale yet handsome profile.

"I’m planning to take my mother’s remains back to her hometown," Su Fu said, looking at half of Ran Yan’s face, suppressing a wave of unusual feelings in his heart.

To Su Fu, staying in the Great Tang meant a life of hiding. Especially now that his arch-enemy, Xiao Song, knew his identity and what he looked like, catching him would be a hundred times easier than before. Xiao Song never did meaningless things, which is why he was willing to so easily owe a favor to Ran Yan.

"Your injuries require peaceful recuperation. Finding a place to live in seclusion would be good for you," Ran Yan said earnestly.

Su Fu nodded slightly, then stood up to go back to his room, "Thank you. I owe you this favor, Su Fu will pay it back in the next life."

In this life, most people involved with him were likely to not meet a good end.

Ran Yan sat alone on the corridor, looking at the disorder in the courtyard. After a few moments, Su Fu’s voice suddenly rose again, "You know I’m a man full of troubles, why would you still save me?"

Ran Yan tilted her head upward and smiled, "Then why did you think I would save you when you came to me?"

Su Fu was left speechless. It was purely an instinct. Ran Yan was so similar to him. The only difference was the blood on her hands was from the dead, while he specialized in harvesting the lives of the living.

After dinner, Ran Yan received a letter from the Ran residence saying they would pick her up the day after tomorrow.

This news was nothing but shocking, with no joy for Ran Yan. Wan Lu and Xing Niang felt a mix of sadness and joy, with the only happy person being Ge Lan. Because she sought vengeance, only by getting close to the Gao family could she carry out her long-planned revenge.

A close-quarters fight was bound to be exciting. Ran Yan was especially willing to watch this excitement. Therefore, she could only adjust her mindset to its most peaceful state.

Night fell, the sky was high and vast, the moon shone brilliantly, and sparse stars twinkled above. From Yuncong Temple at the foot of the mountain, faint chanting could be heard.

For Jing Hui, such sounds were likely more of a curse than a means to calm the mind.

Ran Yan sighed, lay on the couch, and slowly closed her eyes.

The next day before dawn, while it was still dark, a small disturbance arose in the courtyard. Ran Yan listened quietly for a while, couldn’t figure out what was happening, and then asked, "Xing Niang, what’s happened?"

After a pause, hurried footsteps sounded on the corridor, and Xing Niang came in, lifting the curtain, "Wife, the gentleman you saved is gone, leaving only a letter behind."

"Hmm." Su Fu’s departure was within Ran Yan’s expectations. She sat up in bed, only to wonder why she felt a tinge of loneliness. She reached out for the letter, and after opening it, inside was just a sheet of paper. The handwriting was as cold as the man himself, sharp and incisive.

We part tonight, and meet again we may not, let us not forget each other.

Signed: Ziqi.

The last vestiges of drowsiness instantly vanished from Ran Yan’s mind, as the image of him standing in the moonlight with a faint, heart-stopping smile emerged.

What was that feeling?

"Wife..." Seeing her dazed appearance, Xing Niang couldn’t help but become worried.

Ran Yan shook her head, "It’s nothing, you go ahead and leave first, I want to sleep a little longer."

Xing Niang saw her lie back down, so she retreated and closed the door behind her.

Ran Yan reached for the long xiao beside the bed, drew the short sword from inside, and the cold light fell upon her face, making her unconsciously squint her eyes.

It wasn’t until the first light of dawn came through the lattice window that she put away the patient’s guise and lay down for a moment, then she called Wan Lu in to help her dress and wash.

After breakfast, Ran Yan lazily sat in the corridor, adjusting her breathing with the book Su Fu had given her. After collecting her energy, she moved a round-backed chair over to read the Medical Books. As for the case of the eloping couple who were murdered, Ran Yan had already lost interest; how the Government soldiers dealt with it from here on was their affair.

Wan Lu was punished to copy scriptures, while Ge Lan was teaching Huan Kong how to practice writing with twigs on the ground beside her.

The day before returning to Ran manor, Ran Yan spent the day doing nothing in particular.

The next morning, government soldiers came to inform Ran Yan that Master Huai Yin’s cremation ceremony had been moved up and would be held at noon that day.

Ran Yan thought this would be an opportunity to force Jing Hui into making a mistake. She was worried that Jing Hui, in a frenzy, might harm Huan Kong, so she took Huan Kong with her and everyone else to Yuncong Temple to witness the ceremony.

In the Buddhist view, death is not the end but a new beginning, especially for a high monk like Huai Yin, who had profound understanding of the Buddhist teachings. Death meant the completion of his merits.

Upon entering Yuncong Temple, with its ancient, desolate architecture, the place exuded solemnity. Ran Yan wondered if these monks actually knew the truth.

The weather was clear, and a pyre had already been set up in the open area where Huai Yin sat peacefully, surrounded by chanting monks. Xiao Song, Liu Pinrang, and others stood at the periphery.

Ran Yan also found a secluded spot to stand.

"Master Huai Yin is still so handsome," Huan Kong commented, his eyes on Huai Yin’s face filled with admiration, "He must be the reincarnation of Buddha."

"What kind of reasoning is that? If it’s about being handsome, Assistant Minister Xiao is handsome too, doesn’t that mean he is also the reincarnation of Buddha?" Wan Lu muttered under her breath.

"It’s different," Huan Kong contested.

It was different indeed; Huai Yin possessed an aura of severing worldly ties, distinct from all others in this world.

As the sun rose, the temple bells echoed deeply, the sutras continued uninterrupted, and braziers were lit around the perimeter.

Ran Yan observed Huai Yin carefully; he definitely wasn’t dead, or it would be impossible for his features to be so lifelike two days after death.

The bell tolled eighty-one times, yet the chanting didn’t stop, growing more urgent instead. As the sun approached its zenith, Ran Yan was getting anxious. If Jing Hui didn’t show up, would they really have to burn Huai Yin?

"Start the fire," the elder monk at the front said with a hoarse voice.

The young monks at the corners had already lit their torches; the vigorous chanting and the banging sound of the wooden fish heightened the tension to its peak.

Liu Qingsong’s brows were tightly furrowed, while Xiao Song and Liu Pinrang’s calmness was almost maddening, as if burning Huai Yin alive was of no great concern.

"Ignite," the elder monk called out loud.

Upon hearing the command, the four monks brought the torches close to the pyre, and with a bang, the torch in the hands of the monk at the southern corner fell to the ground. Just when Ran Yan thought Jing Hui might have used some skill to knock down the torch, that very monk suddenly collapsed.

Ran Yan frowned, and then one after another, monks kept falling over.

Liu Qingsong hurried forward to take their pulses and found they were only unconscious, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to qidian.com to cast your recommendation ticket, monthly ticket. Your support is my greatest motivation.)