Great Qian. Lizhou.

A black robe and a dark sword swept across the sky and came down upon the Implement Sect's peak.

Nie Jun put the dark sword away, took out his wine gourd and shook it about a few times, then sighed and ambled off down the mountain.

On the mountain path, two figures who had been waiting there hurried up to meet him.

The old man and Mei Xiyao bowed respectfully. "Senior Nie has had a hard time of it. Shall we go and prepare supper?"

On learning what had befallen Great Qian, the Eight-Direction Dining Hall had relocated at once — seeking shelter, and conveniently placed to cook for Nie Jun while they were about it.

"Prepare my arse."

Nie Jun raised an eyebrow and tossed the gourd over. "Fill this for me."

He had just about had enough.

He would finally track down a few tasty demons, and then that golden dharma form would turn up as though reason had nothing to do with anything, load up the corpses and leave without so much as a word.

If it arrived early enough, it would even snatch the demons' lives out of his hands.

It had no regard whatsoever for the Mysterious Sword Perfected Master's fearsome name.

He had killed that many demons, and his mouth had gone so flavourless he could hardly stand it. A miserable business.

"I'll go at once and bring it as quickly as I can."

Mei Xiyao took the gourd and was about to turn away.

Then Nie Jun's expression shifted slightly. He glanced toward somewhere, drew his gaze back, and said mildly, "Never mind. Keep it for now. I'll come and get it later."

With that, under their watching eyes, he walked slowly toward the bamboo grove halfway up the slope.

Through the faintly swaying bamboo, out to the open cliff edge.

Nie Jun stopped and looked without expression at the graceful white-robed figure ahead. "What do you want with me?"

He did not know why she had made the rare choice to leave Wutong Mountain, and was not interested either.