Chapter 63: What Is Truly Brewing in the Gourd?

“May I ask who this young master is?” To this advisor’s eyes, he had never seen anyone like Fang Xu before.

He couldn’t help but address Fang Xu with honorifics, though Fang Xu himself took no notice. Old Wu, standing behind Fang Xu, looked at the advisor with satisfaction.

It was clear that this advisor was shrewd and tactful—Old Wu’s efforts in seeking him out had not been wasted.

As for how Old Wu knew so much, that would naturally be explained when the mysteries unraveled later; now was not the time.

“How dare you presume to inquire after my young master’s name?” Old Wu barked, his fierce gaze fixed on the advisor. The sight of him made the advisor’s breath catch in his throat.

After all, it was only natural—when had this advisor ever encountered someone exuding such a murderous air?

Even Fang Xu, upon first meeting Old Wu, had been struck by the violent aura about him, though he’d quickly grown accustomed to it.

“Old Wu, mind your manners!” Fang Xu coughed lightly, casting a glance at Old Wu.

“Yes, sir!” Old Wu replied, clasping his fists. Yet the advisor’s eyes darted to the brocaded blade at Old Wu’s side, only confirming that this was no ordinary guest.

“I am but a passing guest,” Fang Xu said with a faint smile, his gaze shifting to the three Taoist priests behind him. “But I do share some connection with the Quanzhen Monastery.”

Of course, the advisor had no way to distinguish truth from falsehood in Fang Xu’s words.

Old Wu nearly laughed aloud at this; in his mind, Fang Xu was being overly modest. Having already “conquered” the last inheritor of Quanzhen, could this be called merely “some connection”?

Yet Old Wu knew the situation and held his tongue.

“If that is so, might you know what has occurred here?” the advisor inquired, bowing respectfully. At first, Fang Xu had seemed to him the very picture of elegance and poise, but now, seeing the complex look in Fang Xu’s eyes, it was as if he carried the worries of the world.

This instinctively inspired the highest respect in the advisor—though he had completely misunderstood Fang Xu’s expression.

Fang Xu’s troubled gaze arose from his uncertainty over what lie to concoct next.

At last, he decided to pose as a Taoist disciple, claiming he had come here to suppress a beast sealed beneath the monastery, having sensed its imminent mischief. The sight of Quanzhen’s current state, he said, filled him with sorrow.

The advisor was dumbfounded; after all, he hadn’t seen Fang Xu around the countryside earlier.

Moreover, when the beast had been discovered at dawn, the villagers had already surrounded the area. If Fang Xu had been among them, there was only one path up or down the mountain—how, then, had Fang Xu managed to arrive at Quanzhen Monastery ahead of the advisor?

Pondering this, the advisor found himself half-convinced by Fang Xu’s identity.

“Master, please instruct me!” he said, bowing deeply, his tone filled with awe.

Fang Xu managed a wry smile. “It is not that I am unwilling to help, but even the local deities have abandoned this place. I am truly powerless,” he murmured with feigned sorrow, his expression growing more complicated still.

He looked for all the world as if he genuinely regretted his inability to help—so much so that the advisor was momentarily stunned.

“The deities have abandoned this place? How can that be? Could it have happened last night?” the advisor muttered. He recalled what the villagers had said about miraculous omens at Quanzhen the previous night.

“Did anything strange happen last night?” Fang Xu asked urgently, gripping the advisor’s shoulders. The sudden gesture startled the advisor into silence.

“Last night... last night... some villagers claimed to see a strange light at Quanzhen Monastery. Could it be...?” the advisor stammered.

Fang Xu paused for a moment at these words.

“It seems that must be the case. Otherwise, there’s simply no other way to explain these events.” Rolling up his sleeves, Fang Xu began to count on his fingers as if performing a divination.

To all appearances, he seemed genuinely versed in such arts.

The advisor, standing before Fang Xu, watched him nervously, as though fearing what disaster might yet unfold. Old Wu, behind them, couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

In Old Wu’s opinion, he had truly underestimated his young master. From the look of it, anyone would have believed Fang Xu to be a true Taoist disciple.

“If I am not mistaken, the reason the beast cannot be sealed again is simply because Quanzhen Monastery has fallen into such disrepair!” Fang Xu declared, feigning solemnity.

This immediately threw the advisor into a panic.

“Then what should we do? Please advise us!” The advisor’s worry was plain to see. Fang Xu couldn’t help but laugh—he’d almost convinced even himself by now.

“There is still a way,” Fang Xu said, opening a folding fan he’d conjured from who knew where, smiling gently. “The monastery must be restored. If that is done, then I can ensure the beast will be sealed once more.”

“If that is so, nothing could be better! Rest assured, young master—we will see it done!” The advisor looked at Fang Xu with gratitude, which only gave Fang Xu a twinge of guilt.

But considering the circumstances—and knowing this would benefit both the monastery and the villagers—his sense of guilt gradually faded.

“See that you do,” Fang Xu replied. “I will remain here for a few days, but I hope you will act quickly.”

With that, he and Old Wu set off toward the inner courtyard.

“Rest assured, young master! We will not fail you!” the advisor called solemnly to their retreating figures, leaving the others who had just arrived utterly bewildered.

They had no idea to whom the advisor was speaking. When he explained what had happened, and told them Fang Xu could foretell events, they all believed it without question.

Who could have guessed that Quanzhen Monastery held such secrets?