A thunderous voice echoed through the mountains: "Hey! Listen up, you rabble from Taichu Palace, our master has spoken, if Wei Yuan, that lecherous monk, is not handed over today, she will flatten your Mountain Gate, leaving not a single blade of grass alive! Wa ya ya ya ya!!"
In the side room, startled to his core, Wei Yuan knew that retribution had come to his door and that he could no longer stay. Hurriedly packing his clothes, he muttered to himself, "Little Monk Wuyuan is not the so-called Wei Yuan you speak of. All matters staining one's name were committed by that Wei Yuan, don't place them upon my head..."
Suddenly stopping his movements, he mused aloud, "Wei Yuan? Isn't that my secular birth name?"
On the room's table sat a copper mirror. Looking into it, he saw a young monk with red lips and white teeth whose appearance lost to none.
But gazing at his bald head, Wei Yuan suddenly screamed, waking from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat.
