Chapter Ninety-Three: How Could This Old Man Possibly Mind?

The old gentleman gave a nod to his young disciple and told him to fetch some water, but Zhang Xiaolan stopped him.

“Sir, we have water here. Xiaolian, pour some for the gentleman and his disciple.”

At once, Xiaolian sprang into action and brought out a bowl to pour them water.

Zhang Xiaolan and the others were all carrying water skins, and they had refilled them with well water at the temple. Sweet and refreshing, it was especially quenching at noon, easing thirst and heat alike. That way, there was no need for the young disciple to brave the sun in search of water.

“This old man thanks you, miss. Linli, go sit and rest a while after this, then take out the flat cakes and share them with these friends.”

The old gentleman did not stand on ceremony. He immediately called his disciple Linli back and told him to bring out their dried provisions to share.

It was nearly noon, and everyone was hungry. The master and disciple had set out before dawn that morning and brought along food and water, but in this heat, one could not tell when the water had all been drunk.

“Yes, Master.”

Linli quickly removed the basket from his back and took out a cloth bundle from inside. It contained several flat cakes.

But Zhang Xiaolan could see at a glance that their provisions were not plentiful. She then remembered the offerings she had brought to the temple that morning: fruits, snacks, and pastries.

If they did not mind sharing those, would that not be even better? It would save them from taking the old gentleman’s own provisions. Since she had happened to meet someone with whom she could converse so pleasantly, Zhang Xiaolan intended to sit a while longer and chat, with no need to hurry down the mountain.

“Sir, there is no need for you to share your own rations with us. We have fruits and little snacks and pastries that were offered at the temple. If you do not mind, please have some with us.”

“Haha! How could I mind? One should feel gratitude and reverence for the blessings of the Buddha and Bodhisattvas, and I should thank the young lady for her kindness in sharing.”

Though the old gentleman’s beard gave him a somewhat stern appearance, he was in truth a hearty and easygoing man. The moment Zhang Xiaolan spoke, he agreed without hesitation, showing no guardedness toward her group at all.

“The gentleman speaks truly of himself. You were the one who shared first; I am merely learning from your virtue of generosity.”

Zhang Xiaolan praised others and herself in the same breath. How deft her words were, making the listener feel at ease while she remained at ease herself—plainspoken and sincere to the core.

“The young lady speaks with such courtesy and warmth. To meet you today is truly a rare bond of fate!”

The old gentleman was so pleased by Zhang Xiaolan’s words that he broke into hearty laughter. Stroking his beard with one hand, he looked at Zhang Xiaolan and the others with open admiration.

“If the gentleman is willing to be my friend, then I am truly blessed beyond measure. My name is Zhang Xiaolan; may I ask your honored name?”

Zhang Xiaolan loved making friends, and when she heard him speak of fate, she hurried to introduce herself and make his acquaintance. Though, by the look of it, this was more like a friendship between the generations. Zhang Xiaolan was quite happy with that; only she did not know what the old gentleman thought of it.

“This old man bears the surname Fu.”

This Mr. Fu was indeed generous. He did not think Zhang Xiaolan too young at all; instead, he even told her his family name, clearly having decided to befriend this young companion.

Linli, Hai Zi, and Ling Xiao, who had been watching from the side, were also astonished at the two of them. They had merely met by chance and, though their conversation had been pleasant enough, who would have thought they would already be planning to become friends across the generations? The progress was astonishingly swift.

Especially Linli, who had never known his master to be so sociable, or so easy to talk to.

To be honest, Xiaolian had already grown used to Zhang Xiaolan’s temperament. She simply loved making “friends.” And Ling Xiao—he was an assassin, and yet she had still taken him as her younger brother without a second thought.