While Qingxin maintained eye contact, his mind wandered to one of his past travels. Back then, the senior abbot had brought his new disciple to wander the Dongli state, moving from city to towns, valleys, villages and more. One certain village brought the trip to an abrupt end. There, as usual the villagers toiled—cultivating the land while praying to their folk gods so that nature wouldn't ruin their harvest.
Harvest time approached, taxes had gone up, preventing even the village chief, an elderly fifth-level Qi Refinement man, from keeping his composure. A locust infestation ended their prayers, and Xinzi, who watched the twisting faces, tears and wails with an unsettling calm, spoke words that Qingxin would never forget.
