The midday sun was still fierce, a stick of incense burned out, and wisps of blue smoke transformed into nothingness under the sun-drenched eaves.
Mr. Beifeng stood under the mottled flying eaves of Mingfo Temple, watching the Dongchang operatives at the foot of the mountain, their Brocade Spring Sabers shining coldly at their waists, and the Jinyi Guards' fish-scale armor stirring up dust as they departed.
The wind swept over his shoulder, gathering the blood-stained deep red monk's robe of dead monks, raising a few withered ginkgo leaves, which finally rustled down onto the moss-covered stone steps.
Suddenly, a golden beam flashed through Mr. Beifeng's murky old eyes, causing ripples deep within his pupils.
In his mind, the eight-carriage palanquin painted with vermilion and gold reappeared.
The curtain half-hanging, that world-renowned master of Dongchang, reclined on mink cushions, wearing a dark python robe embroidered with exquisite gold thread.
