EARLY the next day, the morning sun gloriously rose over Dabie Mountain and its bright light flooded the landscape and got rid of the overbearing blackness of the previous night. It washed away the events of the night along all its evils and secrets. The first soul to awaken from slumber in Wu Ming's absence, was Wang Yan. The young cultivator from Purple Mountain was the typical morning person. She chirped liked the morning canary and hurried about on her feet with the movements that resembled that of a mother hen. Wang Yan greeted the day with hope as she brimmed with optimism as to what lay ahead. She lifted her ever busy eyes to the path that led to the hut and sighted a very familiar figure trudging down the path towards her.