Chapter 39: The Envelope Challenge from a Rival

Logan and Curator Chu felt an instant kinship upon meeting, their conversation flowing effortlessly and pleasantly, until they realized night had fallen. Logan recalled the peach blossom poem in his copy of "Three Hundred Tang Poems." Since the Peach Blossom Fan had appeared in the wrong time and place, could the poet Cui Hu be connected somehow? Perhaps he was a crucial clue. Conveniently, Curator Chu was a man of letters, and Logan hoped to ask him. Regrettably, Chu had never heard of the poem nor its author.

After bidding Curator Chu farewell, Logan sank into contemplation. Later that night, he returned to Green Pavilion in search of Jun Tao, only to learn that she was away, performing at a court event with the troupe of flowers.

The next day, frost had frozen the road outside his door. Yan Shan, stepping out to tidy up, slipped and broke a bone. Logan took him for proper treatment; a fracture required a hundred days to heal. Though there was no commercial insurance, Logan, true to his loyal nature, paid Yan Shan’s medical fees in full.

With this setback, the Bamboo Grove Guild could not yet profit and had to temporarily close. Fortunately, Xiao Zhi and the rest remained carefree and content; there was no need for lengthy explanations.

Logan sat alone in the grand hall of the Bamboo Grove Guild, organizing his thoughts about the current stage. First, there were the dragonfolk and "Three Hundred Tang Poems," then the peach blossom poem on the Peach Blossom Fan, and the mysterious Sima residence. How were these linked to the rat demon?

He brainstormed: why did the dragonfolk wish him ill? The blank book revealed words when splashed by the dragonfolk’s water, indicating a connection. The strange behavior of Liu Buwen seemed unrelated to the rat demon; surely nothing serious would come of a simple calisthenics routine.

Wang Gemao and Sima, the two county magistrates, were shrouded in suspicion. Either Sima had been harmed by Wang, or Wang’s corrupt acts were up to no good; perhaps uniting with Chief Zhang could make Wang uncomfortable.

He wondered about the village’s current state: Erhu’s reckless energy, and he hadn’t seen Adao in ages. Their disappearance coincided with the time Lord Wang vanished. Wasn’t that also when two young men went missing? Had they been found?

As Logan pondered, he suddenly realized he nearly overlooked something crucial—the envelope he’d taken from Little Lackey Yi.

The revelation struck like sunlight through clouds. Logan hurried to his room, quickly tidied up, and left. Upon stepping outside, he was hit by the cold and turned back for another layer of clothing.

Passing through the gates of Anping County, he saw Li Bufei, the gatekeeper, leaning lazily against the entrance, a rice stalk in his mouth. Locals avoided going out; most outsiders had already left. The only visitors now were merchants passing through with their horses.

Logan had barely stepped out when Li Bufei, sensing prey, swaggered over, head tilted, ignoring Logan, and wordlessly extended his palm for money.

Logan had never seen such shamelessness; the demand was so contemptible he nearly lost his temper. Still, he feigned cheerfulness and handed over some coins.

Li Bufei weighed the money disdainfully, displaying clear dissatisfaction.

Li Bufei sneered, “Hey, Logan, you’ve struck it big lately—champion of the kickball tournament. Surely I deserve a share of your hundred gold prize?”

Logan bowed, “Officer Li, I’ve given you more than last time. I’m just running a small business; how much money do you think I actually get? I’ll need your protection in the future.”

Sensing what was expected, Logan discreetly pressed a few more coins into Li Bufei’s hand. Li Bufei’s yellow teeth flashed in a crooked smile, his breath foul, but for the sake of the money, he finally let Logan pass.

The farther Logan traveled from Anping, the warmer it grew. About three miles out, it felt like autumn. He shed his winter clothes, stowing them in his pack as planned.

As he walked, the road narrowed. Behind him, Anping County faded into a mirage, seemingly cut off from the world.

His stomach growled, but he figured the temple wasn’t far and he’d brought enough provisions.

Relying on vague memories, he found himself facing a woodland—there was no sign of a temple at all.

Could he have mistaken the location? What now? If he couldn’t find the monk, all was lost!

Just as Logan’s anxiety peaked, he spotted a middle-aged man collapsed by the roadside, filthy and disheveled.

No other travelers were nearby. Logan hurried to check the man’s condition—his face was smeared with dirt, his clothes were shabby, and he shivered violently with cold. Logan draped his recently removed winter coat over him.

The man’s voice trembled weakly, “Food…hungry…”

Logan didn’t catch it. The man repeated, a bit louder, but Logan still couldn’t make it out. He leaned in close.

The man snapped impatiently, “About to die…just give me something to eat.”

Logan finally understood and handed over his dry biscuit. To his surprise, the man revived instantly, snatching the food and gobbling it down ravenously.

“Water…water!” the man demanded.

Logan gave him his water flask, which the man emptied without hesitation, leaving Logan’s own stomach grumbling.

Logan grumbled, “Hey, you could at least leave me a bit! You ate it all.”

The man wiped his mouth with his arm, slumping carelessly on the ground.

“It’s just a biscuit. Show a little compassion for the weak—I was collapsed, after all. Why are you so stingy?”

Logan retorted, “If it’s that easy, maybe I should collapse, too.”

The man replied with gusto, “Go ahead.”

So Logan lay down beside him, watching to see what the man would do. To his astonishment, the man sprang to his feet, dusted himself off, and walked away. Logan leapt up in alarm.

“You ungrateful wretch! How can you abandon your savior?”

The middle-aged man turned, giving Logan a resolute look and snapping his fingers like a celebrity, though Logan saw nothing remarkable.

Logan complained, “You—you—what’s going on? Beggars acting so cool? How are we supposed to get out of this forest?”

The man replied, “Get out? Weren’t you trying to come here?”

Logan was bewildered. Looking around, he discovered the Nameless Temple was right beside him, and the middle-aged man, hands pressed together, had revealed his true identity—the scoundrelly monk!

They sat in front of the main hall, the monk’s eyes closed as he tapped the wooden fish, while Logan knelt, waiting.

From before a Buddha statue, the monk took out the envelope and handed it to Logan.

Logan excitedly tore it open, only to find it was exactly the same as before.

He asked nervously, “What’s going on? Didn’t you say you’d decipher it?”

The monk replied, “You’re not a bad person, just too impatient. This letter isn’t from the Tang Dynasty—it’s probably some medical diagnosis.”

“A medical diagnosis? If it’s not from the Tang, then it must be from the competition. How could something like this end up here?”

The monk said, “Think about where you got the letter—it’ll help with your next step.”

This letter was a vital signal, whether left by accident or design. It felt like a challenge sent straight to Logan.

He thought carefully, then slapped his head in alarm. Disaster! Lord Wang and Little Lackey Yi had disappeared long ago—how would he ever find them now?