I walked in the direction he was going, and walked past a temple-like building, and I caught a glimpse of the three big characters "Great Immortal Temple". I suddenly remembered Lao Yao's words. He said that he had seen Young Master Yang with beggars at the gate of this temple. He also said that the Great Immortal Temple was next door to his mansion, but in fact, it was most of the street away from his mansion. My curiosity inspired me to walk into the Great Immortal Temple.

The temple is small. In the past, incense was booming, but now it's deserted. The tablet of the Great Immortal stood bare in the shrine, and only one horn remained in the curtain. There are also some broken plaques on the walls that say "everything you need". One foot of the offering table was missing, and a stick of incense burned in the wooden incense burner; There were no candlesticks, and in their place were two large turnips with two burnt candle sticks stuck in them. A stocky glass jar with a black camellia in it was placed in the middle of the offering table. It's obviously the flower I folded to Young Master Yang yesterday.

Strange, why did Camellia come here? I thought, I think I'm about to solve a mystery.

There was a small door next to the shrine that led to the back, and I entered through the small door. There is a stone staircase at the back, a small patio, and a brick wall. On the stairs against the wooden wall of the shrine, there was a pile of hay, and on the grass was a mat with an old quilt on it, and a basin beside the pillow, and some bits and pieces in the basin. In the corner of the patio, against the brick wall, a man built a stove out of several bricks, and on the stove sat a clay pot, steaming.

Who lives here? Could it be that the children of the Yang family have anything to do with this person? Or is the Yang family kid a believer in Daxian? I asked myself. I stood on the stairs and looked intently at the crockpot on the broken stove.

I heard a weak cough behind me. I looked back. A man stood behind me: a lanky figure, long unkempt hair, a gray cloth robe covered in grease. He was the one who walked past Yao's door just now. His eyes were looking at me with a look of suspicion. I looked back at him attentively. A long, unclean face seems to have not been washed for several days, and the face is aging, but it is very delicate. The eyes are quite bright, the nose is slightly tilted to the left, the upper lip is thin, and although the mouth is closed, some of the upper teeth can be seen. Strangely, I looked like I had seen this man somewhere.

He always stood and looked at me, silent, and didn't walk away. He looked at me and felt uncomfortable, as if all the grease he had stuck to me. I could no longer bear this silent gaze, so I asked:

"Do you live here?"

He nodded expressionlessly.

After a while, I said again:

"The contents of the jar are boiling." I pointed to the crockpot on the stove.

He nodded again.

"You're the only one here?" After a few minutes, I asked again.

He nodded again.

Why, he's a mute? I stood for a while longer, and looked at him for three or four minutes. I suddenly remembered that his nose and his mouth were exactly the same as those of the Yang family's children. The eyes of the two men are similar.

It was an unexpected finding. Could it be that he is the third master of the Yang family? Could it be that he is the father of the Yang family's children?

I should ask him to tell me about his background. It didn't work. He doesn't speak, but just nods, how can I understand what he means? Even if he wasn't dumb, even if he was really the father of that little one, he wouldn't divulge his secrets to me, a stranger. So what's the use of me standing here all the time demented?

I walked out the small door disappointed. He also came out with me. I walked to the offering table and saw the camellia in the bottle, and I couldn't help but ask:

"This flower is yours?"

He nodded again. This time I saw a smile on his lips.

"I folded it with my own hands at the Yao Mansion the day before yesterday," I said, pointing to the camellia.

He looked at me incredulously, smiled slightly (I think he was laughing, maybe not), and nodded again.

"Did the young master of the Yang family give it to you?" I had no choice but to ask again.

He nodded again, and simply left me, walked down the stone-paved courtyard, and stood at the gate. I didn't read the look on his face. At this time, the light in the temple was quite dim, and night was approaching.

I walked out of the temple gate in disappointment. Behind me there was the sound of the door closing. I looked back. Two black-lacquered gates that had lost their luster shut the mute who could only nod in the temple.

I stood in front of the temple gate, took out my watch, and saw that it was only six o'clock, and I immediately called a passing street car and asked the young coachman to pull me to the Rongguang Theater.

I have many people's secrets in my heart. I need to rest now, I need to forget.