At that time, Mu Dai had just experienced a traumatic event. Huo Zihong didn’t know whether to settle in Lijiang or Dali, so she kept Mu Dai in Kunming for the time being.
Mu Dai couldn’t sleep well, cried often, and dreamed of Wenwen—dreamed of Wenwen’s family storming in and scattering thumbtacks on the floor.
Huo Zihong told her, “If your heart is unsettled, burn incense at a temple, make offerings, talk to Wenwen in your prayers.”
Not far from where they were staying was Rongji Temple, a quiet Guanyin temple with no entrance fee. Mu Dai visited often.
One afternoon, she knelt as usual on a golden meditation cushion. Sunlight filtered through the wooden lattice windows, casting diamond-shaped patterns across the floor. Outside, bamboo rustled in the wind. She looked up at Guanyin’s gentle face and murmured her troubles through falling tears.
—Guanyin, I’ve sinned.
—I dreamed of Wenwen again. She wasn’t angry—she even handed me tissues. The nicer she is, the worse I feel.
—If only I knew martial arts… I could’ve saved her…
When she lifted her tear-streaked face again, she noticed someone in the hall who hadn’t been there before.
An elderly woman with the serene air of a Bodhisattva—kind eyes, silver hair neatly pinned with an old plum blossom hairpin. She sat in a wooden wheelchair, her legs covered with a blue wool blanket.
That was Plum Blossom Granny.
Mu Dai thought she was just another worshipper. Not wanting to block her, she wiped her tears and quietly stepped out—only for Granny to suddenly say:
“Little girl, do you want to learn martial arts?”
…
Cao Yanhua’s jaw dropped wide enough to fit two eggs. “No way. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a good master’s? And she recruited you?!”
Mu Dai said, “My master believes in fate.”
“She said she’d only ever taken one disciple before—my senior brother, Zheng Mingshan. But he never liked practicing light-footwork techniques and was always traveling around, getting into fights. He wasn’t great at the sect’s core skills. My master wanted one last closed-door disciple.”
“She went to several martial arts schools in Kunming, but no one felt right—either their talent wasn’t good enough, or their families refused to entrust their children to her. She passed by Rongji Temple by chance, was drawn by the Guanyin statue, and went inside to pray for guidance in finding a disciple.”
“She saw me crying and asking to learn martial arts. She said the timing and the place all aligned. If we hadn’t met, it wasn’t meant to be. But since we did—it was fate.”
Then she turned to him. “Cao Fatty, let me ask you—did you plan to buy that chicken?”
No. He only wanted to eat chicken—spicy, cumin, grilled wings, chicken soup…
“Then why that moment, out of all moments?”
Because at that moment, he suddenly felt down—like no one liked him except that chicken, who looked at him quietly, without judgment.
Just like that lyric: Because in the crowd, I looked at you once more.
Mu Dai said, “That’s fate. A few minutes earlier or later, you wouldn’t have bought it. Just like back in Chongqing on the cable car—if you hadn’t tried to steal my stuff, you never would’ve become my disciple.”
She lifted the curtain and looked outside as power poles flashed by.
Cao Yanhua asked, “What kind of person is your grandmaster? Will she accept me?”
Mu Dai replied, “She’ll ask you questions. Answer honestly. Don’t play tricks—your little skills are nothing in front of my master. Stop thinking you’re some street legend from Jiefangbei.”
She lowered her voice. “My master once said that years ago, she’d go rob corrupt landlords without weapons. She would sit cross-legged on the roof beam and tell the owners: if anyone can force her down, she won’t take a cent. But if they can’t, they must give her a thousand silver coins.”
“The guards climbed up to fight her—she kicked them all down. The owner’s face turned green. They wrapped silver coins in red paper and brought them up on a lacquer tray. My master climbed down, took the coins, and left a carved blue tile in their place.”
Cao Yanhua blinked. “What’s with the swallow on it? Like… Swallow Li San?”
“No. She said back then, many people used his name.”
“What did the tile mean?”
“It meant the house was under Plum Blossom Granny’s protection. Other martial artists should give face and not target them again.”
“And if they tried?”
Mu Dai glared. “They wouldn’t dare.”
Cao Yanhua felt proud—until a question popped out. “So… what happened to Granny’s legs?”
He immediately regretted it. Mu Dai’s expression darkened, and she raised a hand to smack him—
Fortunately, her phone rang.
It was Luo Ren.
She answered. He asked, “What’s the next stop?”
She didn’t know, so she asked a passing conductor and told him.
He said, “Get off at the next stop.”
“Why?”
“No time to explain. Just get off.”
Mu Dai felt a bad premonition. After a pause, she said, “Okay. I’ll tell Cao—”
“No. Let him stay on the train.”
…
When she hung up, Cao Yanhua asked eagerly, “Was that my Brother Luo? You were gonna tell me something—what is it?”
Mu Dai cleared her throat. “Well… your master… needs to get off at the next stop.”
“Aren’t we going to Chuxiong? Why get off?”
“No, no, no—you keep going. We’ll meet in Chuxiong later.”
“Why?”
…
She disembarked, exited the station, and at the end of the crowd saw Luo Ren’s car—the hunting lights on the roof shining like bright eyes. Luo Ren leaned against the door and waved at her from afar.
Mu Dai, carrying a plastic bag, smiled from within the crowd. Only when most people had left did she walk over.
Luo Ren asked, “Earlier, you said you wanted me to meet your master. Why?”
“Because she’s old-fashioned. She says heaven, earth, ruler, parents, and teacher—all are to be respected. If I have someone I care about, she needs to meet him, approve of him, or it doesn’t count.”
Luo Ren nodded, brow furrowing.
After a moment, he looked down and straightened his clothes. “So… do I look presentable enough for that?”
Meow meow On TPH Chapter 26.1