With Daoist Chu leaving, Lin Mu sighed.
"Tough tis are ahead of us," Monk Hushu muttered.
"Indeed," Lin Mu nodded.
"Though I can't help but wonder… if there is sothing much bigger involved in this than we know," Monk Hushu suddenly said.
"What are you thinking?" Lin Mu asked.
"Well, with the Western Immortal Court Leader going to investigate the 'death' of the Thunderfall War Emperor, the Immortal Court is now lacking a leader," Monk Hushu replied.
Hearing that, Lin Mu raised his brows as realization settled in.
"Would the Immortal Court have any problems with him gone all this ti?" he couldn't help but ask.
"There are many elders that are more than capable of handling things. Plus, the Vice Leader is still present. Still… I can't help but wonder if there was sothing bigger that caused all this," Monk Hushu replied. "What if… their goal was not to kill and hide the Thunderfall War Emperor, but to make the Western Immortal Court Leader leave his post?" he said with a grim voice.
"That… certainly could be possible." Lin Mu could think of a hundred scenarios that could happen. "Plus, the fact that the Court Leader and the Emperor are martial brothers is well known, is it not?" he asked.
"Yes. While not everyone might know it, finding that out would be easy," Monk Hushu nodded.
"This gives them an opportunity to go against the entire Western Immortal Court without having to launch a full offense. What if they took advantage of this fact and got rid of the Thunderfall War Emperor—whom they had a better chance of defeating—just to get back at the Court Leader?" Lin Mu hypothesized.
"That… would be very bad," Monk Hushu frowned.
"Do you think we should tell them?" Lin Mu wondered aloud.
"They probably thought of this already. It's also why they're keeping the true reason for the investigation a secret," Monk Hushu stated.
"Hmm, yeah," Lin Mu nodded.
The people of the Immortal Court were certainly capable.
"I suppose for now, all we can do is wait and watch." Lin Mu let out a breath.
"Indeed," Monk Hushu agreed with a nod.
With that said, the two returned to their peak.
A few days later, Lin Mu sat cross-legged in the courtyard, the early morning mist curling around him like quiet spirits. The silence of the temple grounds was broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant tolling of a prayer bell.
He should've been ditating. Or training. Or sleeping, really. But instead, his thoughts kept drifting.
The Southern Immortal Court. Three years away by teleportation alone. Sothing was wrong there. Sothing deep, ancient, and rotten.
He had been thinking a lot about this, especially once they realized that the true target behind this sche might not be the Thunderfall War Emperor, but the Western Immortal Court itself.
Lin Mu reached into his robes and pulled out a small wooden bead. It was the gift the Abbot had given him when he'd first arrived. Now it served as his anchor—sothing to remind him of peace when everything around him felt like it was slowly fracturing.
"Thinking too loud again," Monk Hushu's voice called from the steps.
Lin Mu cracked an eye open. "That obvious, huh?"
"You're like a bell in a ditation hall," the monk said, walking over with two cups of steaming tea. "Even the squirrels avoid your aura when you're like this."
Lin Mu accepted the cup gratefully. "Sorry. Just a lot on my mind."
"You're not the only one," Hushu said, sitting beside him. "Ever since Elder Jin left with Daoist Chu, the air's changed. Sothing's in motion. Sothing big."
Lin Mu sipped his tea, then muttered, "I wish I could do more."
"You will. You're already caught in the current," Hushu said, smiling faintly. "And when the wave cos, you'll know whether to ride it… or sink."
Lin Mu stared into his cup. The reflection of the temple roof shimred in the tea's surface.
"I won't sink," he said firmly.
The monk raised his brow. "Confident."
"Determined," Lin Mu corrected. "There's a difference."
A wind passed through the temple trees. A flock of birds took to the sky.
Sowhere, very far away, lightning cracked again.
And far below the cloud-streaked heavens, in a world where mortals told ghost stories to children and old emperors roasted at by campfires, the fate of the realms stirred quietly to life.
Over the next few weeks, Lin Mu buried himself in temple life with a focus that even Monk Hushu found unnerving.
He swept the stone courtyards at dawn, the sound of his broom scratching against the tiles like a chant of intent. He prepared the vegetarian als in silence, dicing radishes and lotus roots with the precision of a formation master. He taught so young monks the basics of formations under the Bodhi tree, his words calm but his eyes distant.
And yet, no one questioned him.
Because Lin Mu, in that mont, beca part of the temple's rhythm—like the soft toll of the bell or the drifting incense smoke that clung to the rafters.
But inside, his mind never stopped.
Why now? Why the Southern Court? Why the Thunderfall War Emperor, of all people?
Even his ditations were less restful than usual. The mantras echoing through the temples, once a balm to his thoughts, now rolled through his mind like the first raindrops before a storm. He could feel the disruption growing, even if he didn't know its source.
Lin Mu continued to engross himself in this routine, trying to organize his thoughts, hoping that so answer would appear to him on its own.
But just as he had finished his lesson one afternoon, a set of footsteps echoed softly behind him.
"Amitabha. What troubles you, child?" an old man spoke gently.
Lin Mu turned around and saw none other than the Abbot standing there.
"Abbot…" Lin Mu greeted him, realizing he couldn't even reveal this matter to the man.
"Hushu spoke to about so mission. He also ntioned that it is sensitive, so I won't ask about the details," the Abbot said with a serene smile.
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