They explored the silent, dreamy city—eating mist-cured at and sipping fogflower wine—before heading to their next destination.
This ti, it was a natural wonder: a towering skyfall waterfall at the edge of a jagged ridge. The cascade thundered endlessly, sending up clouds of mist that sparkled under the late afternoon sun.
There was no city here, only a modest settlent catering to travelers. They stayed the night in wooden lodges with panoramic views of the massive waterfall that glowed silver under the moonlight. The lull of rushing water served as their lullaby, soothing but also imnse in its quiet power.
On the fourth day, they crossed into new territory—the Mirul Kingdom, a vassal state under the Green Lotus Temple's domain. Although independent in governance, it still maintained ceremonial and spiritual ties to the temple and respected its influence deeply.
The journey took them through undulating hills, misty pine forests, and ancient stone paths. They visited three smaller cities and several scenic lakes known for their sky-blue waters and floating crystal lilies, which shimred like stars on the water's surface. The local markets were more intimate but charming, filled with regional goods—handcrafted jewelry imbued with minor enchantnts, enchanted musical instrunts that played themselves, and delicacies made from mountain-grown herbs and wild honey.
Finally, on the fifth day, they began their return journey to the Green Lotus Temple.
Though they were over five hundred kiloters away, the trip took only six hours with Little Shrubby at full speed. The wind rushed past them as the temple's silhouette slowly erged on the horizon—majestic, serene, and seemingly unchanged.
Thus ended their five-day journey—full of food, sights, laughter, and the occasional indulgence.
But for Lin Mu, it was more than just a trip. It was a fleeting mont of peace before the tides of fate shifted once more.
Their return to the Green Lotus Temple was just before noon, and the sight that greeted them was vastly different than when they had left.
"Whoa, so many people," ng Bai said, eyes widening. "There weren't nearly this many when we left, were there?"
"Maybe around ten, but definitely not this many," Lin Mu replied, his tone curious.
They had heard rumors that many had applied to stay as guests within the Green Lotus Temple, but now, they were witnessing the scale firsthand.
A long line stretched from the base of the temple gate all the way to the outpost nearly two kiloters away. Easily over a thousand cultivators waited patiently for their turn. rchants and enterprising vendors had set up street stalls to capitalize on the growing crowd.
"Fresh at buns! Fresh at buns! Made from the Immortal Black-Spotted Bull!"
"Immortal Green Tea! Harvested straight from the Lotus Prefecture!"
"Resting mats! Get your resting mats! Buy one, get one free!"
Vendors hawked a wide range of goods—from steaming foods to cushions, chairs, and even talismans said to increase one's odds of acceptance.
"This is pretty much a market at this point," ng Bai muttered.
"It sure is," Lin Mu said as he led the way forward.
They moved past the stalls and reached the front of the line. Imdiately, murmurs and whispers spread through the crowd.
"Why are they just walking to the front?"
"Yeah, shouldn't they wait in line like the rest of us?"
"Are they really trying to cut in?"
Many frowned, assuming the monks would stop them. The Green Lotus Temple was known for its fairness and impartiality. No one, not even nobles, were supposed to receive special treatnt.
But then—
"Welco, honored guests," a monk greeted them warmly.
"Please, go on in," another monk said, stepping aside.
A collective gasp rippled through the line.
"Huh?"
"WHAT!?"
"How are they allowed in first?!"
The uproar was imdiate. Voices rose in protest.
"Hey, get back in line!"
"Yeah! We were here first!"
ng Bai grew visibly anxious under the glares of hundreds.
Lin Mu sighed. "This is going to be a bit of trouble."
The monks now wore awkward expressions, trying to manage both duty and diplomacy.
"Please go on ahead, we'll handle this, Bearer," one of the senior monks said respectfully.
"Alright," Lin Mu replied and started walking forward.
But just as he passed the gate, a hand grabbed his wrist.
"Hey you!"
Lin Mu's gaze sharpened as he turned. ng Bai took a cautious step back while he furrowed his brow, his body tensing.
The man who had grabbed Lin Mu wore ornate robes embroidered with the crest of a noble clan—a silver pigeon perched on a cherry blossom branch.
"Who do you think you are!?" the man growled.
Lin Mu remained calm, his tone even. "We were already invited in before. We were rely away for a few days."
"As if!" the man sneered. "If even I, the heir of the Mui Clan, cannot enter, why should so son of a bitch like you be let in!?"
The air turned deathly still.
Lin Mu did not react, but ng Bai's expression darkened and he took a step forward, fury flashing in his eyes.
"You! What did you just say?" ng Bai growled. "How dare you insult my master!" The boy shouted, unable to hold back.
Lin Mu raised a hand, trying to defuse the situation. "It's fin—"
But before he could finish, the monks moved.
"Restrain him!"
Several monks darted forward, their robes fluttering as they grabbed the man and forced him to his knees.
"What!? What are you doing!?" the man shouted in shock.
"You've committed an offense," a monk stated, voice cold. "Insulting the Bearer is not sothing we take lightly."
"Do you know who I am!?" the man raged, struggling in their grasp.
But it was too late. The crowd, once angry at Lin Mu, now turned silent in awe and confusion.
Because in that mont, they saw what they hadn't before: not just a traveler or cultivator, but soone the Green Lotus Temple itself treated with reverence.
But for the Mui Clan's heir, this was going to be the worst day of his life.
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