Sanjiang Prefecture, by the riverbanks.
Late at night.
Upon realizing that the Abbot of Leifeng Temple was the same monk who had nearly taken him in years ago, Yibai felt a surge of anger in his heart.
Indeed, foes on a narrow path.
He said to himself, the reason why Ming Jing's Purple Gold Alms Bowl absolutely refused to budge for him became clear now—it was the same bowl used by that bald monk to try to capture him in the past.
"True Dragon, please take a detour."
The monk beseeched earnestly.
"Hold your tongue, Monk. I have a longstanding grudge with him, and it's not something that can be settled merely by Ming Jing's incident. He's at Xilai Temple now, isn't he? I shall go there myself. You go back and convey my message, tell them I am coming. Warn them of possible disadvantages and tell them to take a detour and retreat swiftly," Yibai instructed.
So said Yibai.
The grudge must be resolved!
The feud with this bald monk had lasted more than a decade.
