Old Man, although a bit eccentric and always forcing him to memorize tongue-twisting books like "Mayi Physiognomy" and "Shuijing Collection," truly possessed remarkable skills. Just by following him to learn some qi-guiding techniques, William Clark had already become invincible among his peers.

From Lizhuang to the mountain temple, it took about an hour. Halfway there, a sudden downpour began. By the time William Clark reached the temple, he was soaked to the skin, looking like a drowned rat.

"Master, Master, I'm here." William Clark dashed into the temple through the curtain of rain.

This temple wasn't very large. Besides the main hall at the entrance, there were only two side rooms in the back. Due to years of neglect, the main door was already dilapidated. Last year, Old Man had chopped it up for firewood, saving William Clark the trouble of knocking.

"Master, where are you?"

William Clark wandered through the front hall and back rooms, only to find that Old Preacher was not in the temple. Scratching his head, he returned to the main hall and bowed to the statue enshrined in the center.

Unlike the main peak temple at Maoshan, which enshrined the Three Pure Ones, this temple housed a statue of an ordinary Taoist.

The Taoist on the altar wore hemp robes, his hair tied in a topknot. His left hand rested on his chest, while his right hand was raised above his head, holding a palm-sized clay compass. The whole pose looked rather strange.

According to Old Preacher, this was the ancestor of their Mayi lineage. Although not worshipped by the masses, he was to be sincerely revered.

"With rain this heavy, I hope Old Man hasn't run into any trouble."

Suddenly, a clap of thunder sounded, and the entire temple seemed to shake. William Clark glanced outside, unable to help worrying about Old Preacher.

"Hmm? What's that sound?"

Just as William Clark was looking outside, he suddenly heard a "creak creak" sound behind him. Turning around, he saw the clay statue toppling straight toward him.

"Ancestor, I really haven't been disrespectful to you!"

When William Clark looked up, the statue of the Taoist in hemp robes was already coming down on him like a small mountain. William Clark quickly retreated, and thanks to his small stature, barely dodged the ancestor's head.

But before William Clark could celebrate escaping disaster, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his head—the statue's raised right hand had landed squarely on William Clark's little head.

Although it was just a clay hand, the force was not to be underestimated. The blow made blood gush from the top of William Clark's head, his vision went black, and he fainted on the spot.

The more than two-meter-tall statue, after falling from the altar, shattered into pieces all over the floor. Who knows if the Mayi ancestor, a thousand years ago, could have foreseen such a calamity?

The scalp is where the body's capillaries are most concentrated—even a small scrape can bleed profusely. William Clark's small body lay on the ground, and before long, blood had stained the floor around him red.

Outside, the torrential rain grew even fiercer. Lightning raged across the sky, and the dilapidated temple swayed in the storm, as if it might collapse at any moment.

Chapter 002: Injured

Thunder and lightning outside the temple cast flickering light and shadow inside.

Not far from William Clark's head, a palm-sized, originally pitch-black clay fragment, after being stained with William Clark's blood, suddenly began to emit a faint glow.

If anyone had been in the temple at that moment, they would have noticed that the glowing object was not actually clay, but a dark-colored tortoise shell, densely engraved with intricate patterns, somewhat resembling a feng shui master's compass.

However, unlike common compasses, this tortoise shell had no inner disk, but was instead marked with a Taiji yin-yang symbol. Around the edge were the eight trigrams: "Qian, Kun, Zhen, Gen, Li, Kan, Dui, Xun," giving it an ancient and mysterious appearance.

Originally, the tortoise shell was dull and colorless, but once stained with William Clark's blood, it seemed to come alive. The blood seeped into the shell's back, and mysterious patterns began to emerge.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder sounded outside, and the light inside the temple flared. Above the tortoise shell, a faint Taiji symbol appeared, transformed into a wisp of green smoke, and entered William Clark's brow. The tortoise shell on the ground vanished with the thunderclap.

A bolt of lightning split the dark sky, snaking down like a serpent or dragon. In the flash, one could see William Clark's small body trembling slightly on the ground.

……

Summer thunderstorms come and go quickly. As the rain stopped, the temple returned to its usual tranquility, with only the crisp sound of water dripping from the eaves.

The next morning, after the rain, the sky cleared. The mountain forest glistened with green, the air was fragrant with grass and trees, and a light mist hung like gauze. Wisps of cloud drifted through the deep valley and forest, and the trees on the mountain sparkled with a crystal-like green.

A figure moved through the forest. Though the path was muddy and slippery, the figure did not pause at all, and soon arrived at the temple gate.

It was a medium-built Taoist. His robe, like the temple itself, was worn and tattered. His topknot was a bit messy from the journey, his face was slightly flushed, but not a wrinkle could be seen.