As the exotic fragrance wafted over, just as it entered the nostrils of the two women, they felt the world spinning, and promptly fainted, losing consciousness.
At this moment, a young gentleman dressed in white emerged from the shadows, unfolding his fan—a man Fang Jingwen had been earnestly searching for, the flower-picking thief Xiu Wuchun!
Xiu Wuchun hoisted Ruo Li and Fang Jingwen over his shoulders, one on each side, and carried them toward his secret hideout.
In a northwestern direction two hundred li from the dilapidated temple was a monastery, modest in size, with only a couple of monks residing in it.
Within this monastery lay Xiu Wuchun's secret lair. The old monk and two young disciples had long been subdued by Xiu Wuchun's menacing power. They dared not speak against him; they not only had to comply with his commands but sometimes even assisted him in his malevolence.
