Chapter 217: Encircling Hunt

Chapter 217: The Hunt

This was a very ordinary group of monks. The Maitreya Sect possessed no special attire, making them difficult to distinguish. In this era, Buddhism was in decline, though not completely non-existent, so seeing monks was not unusual.

But near Langya and Mount Tai, because the Wang family had originally carried out Xia Longyuan's decree to exterminate Buddhism, and the Taiyi Sect of Mount Tai was a Daoist sect, two local overlords resided here, meaning there was truly no Buddhist presence to be found in the vicinity.

Could the envoy of the Maitreya Sect be among this group of monks?

"Logically, this place is not within the sphere of influence of the Maitreya Sect. They wouldn't be so blatant, right? Wouldn't it be better to just disguise themselves as anything else?" Situ Xiao lowered his voice. "Or do they believe that arriving in Langya requires showing their true faces to display sincerity? Are they really that pedantic?"

Zhao Changhe laughed. "That is simple."

He drank the wine in his bowl in a single gulp, splashed a bit onto his clothes, and then, thoroughly reeking of alcohol, staggered out the door.

Situ Xiao twitched the corner of his mouth. This was a persona he loved to use, and it had been copied right in front of his face...

Then again, the drunken steps Zhao Changhe was mimicking were somewhat interesting... Although he hadn't learned the system of the footwork, he had already touched upon its spirit. Ordinary people would think drunken steps were messy and chaotic, but in reality, they were highly ordered, with a lower body as stable as a rock. This Zhao Changhe had already grasped a bit of that flavor...

Yet Zhao Changhe was seen stumbling and reeling for two steps, stumbling precisely behind the monk at the very end of the line.

Seeing that he was about to collide, the monk frowned, turned his head, and reached out to support him. "Almsgiver, be careful..."

With just this one move, Situ Xiao felt that this was not the Maitreya Sect. The execution was remarkably solid and heavy, like a martial monk who had been tempered since childhood, entirely different from the style of the Maitreya Sect.

Zhao Changhe felt the same way, but still unwilling to give up, he feigned a drunken inability to stand and continued to collapse into the monk's arms, while his fingers brushed against the acupoints on the monk's arm.

The arm the monk used to support him shuddered slightly, evading the finger, while his other hand shot out with lightning

In the distance, a faint, intriguing smile curled at the corners of Zhuque's lips. She, too, was curious to know.