That was the sound of someone striking a wooden fish!
On such a towering peak, in the silence of the night, behind dense pine woods, amid the surging roar of the pines, there appeared such a little house, and from within came the sound of a wooden fish being struck. Though there was neither blood and gore nor demons and monsters, this scene was bizarre enough to make these battle-hardened guards and Turkic soldiers feel a chill run down their spines.
Tok, tok, tok...
The wooden fish sounded for a while and then stopped, followed by a clear, ringing note from a copper plate.
Then, all things fell utterly silent.
Wooden fish, copper plate, and that faint, almost undetectable trace of Jiangzhen Fragrance in the air all seemed to proclaim that the inhabitant within ought to be a cultivator of the Way. Yet the house was no temple or monastery, merely an ordinary wooden hut, which made the whole thing especially contradictory and eerie.
