The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

Wang Zhen stood on a tree branch, torn between his inner turmoil and his own thoughts. Judging from the golden man's attire, he was undoubtedly of extraordinary status. The tall, chestnut-red horse and the fox fur he wore were not clothes for ordinary people.

Moreover, this person appeared to be about the same age as him. He was clearly either a Jurchen nobleman or the son of an official. How could someone like that travel alone?

After thinking it through, Wang Zhenhuan lay on the tree trunk, staring motionless at the golden-haired boy. He had originally planned to wait for the boy to pass before returning to the dilapidated temple to find Lin Qingyan.

But man proposes, God disposes. The boy, who was riding along the path, suddenly slowed down and stopped. He stared at the direction of the dilapidated temple for a while, as if to check if anyone was inside.

Wang Zhenhuan frowned, praying silently that the boy would leave. However, Lin Qingyan in the temple had just woken up and rekindled the fire.

A wisp of smoke drifted from the courtyard of the dilapidated temple toward the path. The young man wrinkled his nose, sniffed it, then led his horse toward the temple.

Upon seeing this, Wang Zhenhuan was immediately startled. He no longer cared about the plums he had just picked. He threw the plums aside and slid down the tree trunk, a drop of more than ten feet, causing him to stumble upon landing.

He scrambled to his feet and ran without stopping toward the ruined temple. As he ran, he prayed incessantly, hoping that he could still make it there and that the worst was yet to come.

When he reached the entrance of the dilapidated temple, he only saw the large chestnut horse, its head bowed, grazing on weeds in the yard. This discovery instantly chilled him to the bone.

He drew a dagger from his waist and carefully walked towards the main hall. The main hall was quiet, without a sound, which reassured him somewhat.

Lin Qingyan didn't scream or struggle, indicating that things hadn't gotten that serious yet. He quickly stepped forward and kicked the main hall's door. The already dilapidated door collapsed with a thud.

The heavy door panel sent dust billowing everywhere. When the dust finally settled, the scene before him left Wang Zhenhuan stunned. There stood a young man dressed in a fox fur coat.

He was sitting on the ground, drinking water from a kettle. Lin Qingyan, on the other hand, was timid and hiding behind a pillar. When she saw Wang Zhenhuan, her face lit up with joy, and she quickly ran over and hid behind him.

Wang Huanzhen frowned, gripping his dagger tightly, and turned slightly to ask, "Are you alright? Is the golden man alright?"

Hearing Wang Huanzhen's words, Lin Qingyan hid behind him, looked at him and gently shook her head, then looked at the golden-haired boy and said, "She came in and sat on the ground drinking water without saying a word to me."

After hearing this, Wang Huanzhen was largely relieved. He reached out and patted the girl's shoulder to comfort her. Just as the two were whispering to each other, the golden figure sitting on the ground suddenly spoke.

"Are all Han Chinese this timid? Don't be so nervous. I mean no harm. I'm just passing by. I'll let my horses eat some fodder and rest for a while before I leave."

Upon hearing the golden figure speak, Wang Zhenhuan raised an eyebrow, looking at her with some surprise. Not for any other reason than that the golden figure before him was actually a woman!

Her voice was clear and crisp, slightly androgynous, but still clearly that of a young girl. No wonder Wang Zhenhuan thought she was pretty.

The Jurchens were a nomadic people from the north; the men were generally quite robust with rough skin. He had been wondering why this Jurchen youth had such delicate skin and such a short stature.

To his surprise, it wasn't a boy at all, but a girl about his age. Feeling immediately embarrassed, he quickly said to cover it up, "You can speak Mandarin?"

"What's so great about speaking Chinese? It's the most basic thing among us Jurchen nobles. Do you really think we Jurchens are all savages who eat raw meat and drink blood?"

The girl spoke with a barbed tongue and was quite impolite. Wang Zhenhuan was also a little angry. He took Lin Qingyan's hand, sat down by the pillar, and casually spoke to the girl.

"Being able to speak Chinese is nothing special. What you Jurchens should do is understand the Han people's sense of propriety, integrity, and morality."

"What did you say?" The girl's expression changed immediately upon hearing Wang Zhenhuan's clearly provocative words. She got up from the ground, drew a short curved knife from her waist, and pointed it at Wang Zhenhuan.

"You should know what I'm saying. A nation that understands propriety, righteousness, integrity, and morality will not arbitrarily invade and slaughter innocent people who are powerless to even kill a chicken."

Wang Huanzhen raised his head, looking at the sullen girl in front of him with cold, emotionless eyes. The curved knife in the girl's hand was different from the ones he had seen before.

The Jurchen scout who had been chasing him earlier wielded a scimitar that was at least an adult's arm's length long. But the girl in front of him held a short knife rather than a scimitar.

This scimitar is only the length of a forearm, and it is engraved with exquisite patterns. The guard on the hilt is also inlaid with sparkling gemstones. It's clearly not a cheap product.

This scimitar was more of a decorative work of art than a weapon. This was also the premise for Wang Zhenhuan's daring to mock the girl. The girl was clearly from a noble family.

Moreover, since they've been at the ruined temple for so long, no golden statues have followed them. This suggests that the girl was likely alone and had secretly run away. And then there's her attire.

She didn't even have a bundle to carry anything, only a water pouch at her waist. She didn't look like she was about to embark on a long journey at all, and from her words and actions, it was clear that this young woman was not cunning at all.

Therefore, based on the above, Wang Zhenhuan has made a rough deduction about the girl's identity. She is a noblewoman from the Jin dynasty who, for some unknown reason, secretly ran away from home.

Since she had run away from home, she certainly wouldn't reveal her location. In other words, the chances of a golden statue following this girl were slim. Wang Zhenhuan simply sat down on the ground.

Wang Zhenhuan stared blankly at the girl in front of him. The girl angrily drew her scimitar, stared at Wang Zhenhuan for a while, and then suddenly blushed. She put away the scimitar, picked up her water bag, and left, muttering to herself.

"Hmph, you uncouth Han Chinese, I won't stoop to your level!"

Wang Zhenhuan didn't say anything to stop her. He sat on the ground and watched the girl angrily lead the horse in the yard and disappear into the path in front of the temple without looking back.

He turned to Lin Qingyan and said, "Let's go, we can't stay here any longer, let's pack our things and leave!"