After leaving the Gou Mansion, He Muxian felt much more at ease. Now she had several wishes in her heart: first, she hoped Gou Chao would keep his promise; second, she prayed for Zhou Ge's safety; third, she wished Shen Huan everything went smoothly; and fourth, she longed for her younger sister to assist her father in his duties.

　　During the past ten or so days, she had dealt with several matters related to wanted posters. As the number of these matters gradually decreased, it proved that the Gou Mansion had kept its promise.

　　About seventeen or eighteen days later, she had been in Yue territory for over two months. On the fourth day of the second month, she arrived at a small place called Xiaowang Village.

　　The village was tiny, consisting of only five households. In front of the village were several fields where farmers were busy tilling the soil.

　　As she rode her horse slowly, she saw the snow gradually melting on both sides of the road. The river water flowed gently, and the trees were starting to grow lush, presenting a scene of early spring.

　　Upon entering Xiaowang Village, she saw the wives of the five households gathered in one household. Soon, smoke rose from the chimney. A few children were squatting on the roadside, watching something. One of the older children was telling a story.

　　She approached and saw that it was a series of wooden picture plates.

　　The pictures were carved on small wooden tablets, which were connected by delicate grass ropes. The scenes were vivid, and the characters were distinct.

　　The child who was telling the story seemed to be having some difficulty.

　　"Mom, what does this one say?" The child shouted as he ran into the yard.

　　A woman came out of the yard and said, "This one is about Zhang Xiaosan breaking the drumstick."

　　"Got it."

　　"Don't forget to come back for dinner."

　　"Got it." The child promised eagerly and came back to continue the story.

　　He Muxian tied her horse to the gatepost and approached the woman. "Madam, could I possibly beg for some dry food and clean water?"

　　The woman, seeing her polite demeanor, lowered her guard.

　　"It's not ready yet, miss. But you can come in and have some tea."

　　"Thank you."

　　She tied her horse outside the gate and followed the woman into the courtyard. Not wanting to interrupt the woman's cooking, she sat in the side room and waited. Before receiving her meal, she gave the woman two silver coins, which the woman happily accepted and promised to prepare more food.

　　Within an hour, hot food and dishes were served. A little later, the woman brought her a bowl of hot soup.

　　The woman, named Li, was quite chatty and friendly. After eating, the two women engaged in idle conversation for a long time.

　　Li mentioned that she had been adopted by a family in this village when she was young. At the age of sixteen, she married her childhood sweetheart, and the two had been deeply in love ever since.

　　He Muxian felt that Li was quite fortunate, especially in her marriage, which was much better than her own.

　　After chatting for a while longer, He Muxian casually asked, "Did you make the wooden picture plates the children are playing with?"

　　"The ones outside? No, I only know how to cook and clean. I don't know how to carve them."

　　"Then who made them?"

　　"A few days ago, two people came here - a monk and a layman. The monk, whose Dharma name is Shijian, made those picture plates.."

　　Monasteries and temples were rare in Shaowen, and He Muxian, who had traveled extensively for many years, had also seldom encountered many temples or Taoist monasteries. Upon hearing about this monk, she became somewhat interested.

　　"What kind of monk was he?"

　　"He was about twenty or so, quite handsome. The layman with him was a bit plain-looking and shorter. His Dharma name was... let me think... yes, it was Shijian. And the layman's name was Zhou Ge."

　　As He Muxian sipped her hot tea, she heard a familiar name and immediately set down her cup. "What did you say?" she asked.

　　"Shi Jian. Do you know him, miss?"

　　"I'm asking about the person accompanying him."

　　"Zhou Ge."

　　She was certain she hadn't heard wrong. She repeatedly confirmed the details, including his appearance, attire, and the way he spoke. It all sounded exactly like the person she was looking for.

　　Eager to learn about their departure time and destination, she quickly packed some food and set out on her journey.

　　She rode eastward for over a hundred miles and arrived at a rural inn in the evening.

　　The inn sat along the main road, larger than any other rural inns she had seen before. It had no signboard hanging outside but only a pennant, one side inscribed with "Food" and the other with "Lodging."

　　It didn't seem like a shady place from the outside, so she handed the reins of her horse to a young boy standing in front and entered the inn.

　　Inside, the space was spacious, with two floors. The ground floor had twenty tables, some occupied by single guests and others by groups. The second floor had private rooms, some with guards standing guard, some without. Some doors were open, while others were partially ajar, with music and chatter occasionally wafting out.

　　The innkeeper greeted her cordially, "Miss, are you here for a meal or to stay the night?"

　　"Just a couple of dishes and a pot of tea, please," she replied.

　　As she waited at her table, she noticed that many people were staring at her. Some were gawking openly, while others were sneaking glances. She initially thought they were just lecherous men, but then she realized something was amiss.

　　Before her food even arrived, a short and nimble man approached her table, holding a ghost-head knife.

　　"Excuse me, miss, are you from Beici County?" he asked.

　　"Who are you?" He Muxian asked coldly.

　　The little man looked around at the other patrons and then back at He Muxian. "I'm from the White Eagle Fort. The authorities call us thieves, but it seems like you're indeed from Beici County."

　　"So what if I am?"

　　"May I ask if your surname is He?"

　　He Muxian scanned the room with her peripheral vision, noting that all eyes seemed to be focused on her.

　　"Yes, so what?" she said coldly.

　　The little man stepped back a few paces. "It's the right person. Everyone, let's do the job first, then split the money!"

　　As soon as he spoke, two men wielding ghost-head knives leaped forward towards her.

　　He Muxian drew her sword, Qingzhuang, and a flash of light surrounded her as she blocked their attacks, engaging the two thieves in a fierce battle.

　　A man carrying a pair of iron cudgels approached and said, "Mr. Ma, we'll take care of the business first, collect the silver, and then compensate you for the broken furniture." With that, he joined the fight.

　　The commotion caused the music upstairs to stop, and several people emerged to see what was happening. The more daring ones watched from the sidelines, while the more timid ones fled through the rear windows of the second floor.

　　"Fight! Fight! Kill her!" shouted Mr. Ma, and the other thieves echoed his cries without joining the fray.

　　He Muxian didn't have much trouble defeating the three men, but she was puzzled. The arrest order had been withdrawn, so she couldn't fathom why anyone would still be looking for her.

　　With no time to ponder, she focused on the battle. After several exchanges, she stabbed one man and then, in a few more rounds, dispatched the other two.

　　Less than twenty rounds, and all three lay dead. Some were filled with fear, while others were filled with sadness.

　　Two men standing against the wall drew their weapons and stepped forward.

　　"You killed my brothers! You're going to die!" one shouted.

　　He Muxian didn't know which of the three men he was referring to, and she didn't care to know. She only regretted having stumbled into this den of thieves and causing trouble for herself. She knew she had to fight her way out, and so she pressed her attack.

　　The next two men were less skilled, and within a few rounds, she had pierced their throats with her sword.

　　Suddenly, someone shouted, "lakh silver coins!"

　　The promise of money seemed to revive the thieves' spirits. Two men wielding swords jumped forward, and one of them warned, "Brother, be careful. This money won't be easy to earn."

　　"Don't worry, brother. We can do it."

　　The two men seemed to have a good rapport and were somewhat more competent than the previous ones. But compared to He Muxian, their skills were like night and day.

　　Within a few dozen rounds, both men were slain, one with a thrust to the throat, the other with a stab to the abdomen.

　　He Muxian's sword, Qingzhuang, exuded a chilling aura as she demanded, "Who else wants to die?"

　　Just then, a flute sounded upstairs, its melody causing a躁动 in the hearts of the thieves below, who swayed and bobbed their heads in rhythm.

　　Looking up, He Muxian saw a woman playing the flute.

　　She reached into her pouch and drew out three cross-shaped darts, aiming them directly at the flutist. The woman ducked and dodged, landing on the ground floor where she engaged He Muxian in a fierce battle.

　　He Muxian had expected a formidable opponent, but she soon realized that the woman's flute playing was impressive, but her martial arts were lacking. He Muxian had the clear advantage, and there was no sign of the woman possessing any martial arts secrets.

　　After a dozen rounds, He Muxian saw her opportunity and slashed the woman's wrist with Qingzhuang, following up with a fatal thrust to her heart. The sword's touch left a trail of ice crystals.

　　He Muxian glared around the room, her eyes blazing.

　　"Who else wants to die?" she demanded.