The bottom of the Dragon Burial Valley was isolated from the outside world.
Day in and out, the old temple sat there silently, distant and dilapidated - it seemed like there was nothing different about it than before.
The only difference was that there was now another young monk with refined features.
There was also another quirky little fox.
Each morning, the young monk would gaze at the rising sun.
At dusk, he would gaze at the setting sun.
It was the same everyday without any breaks in between.
The eyes of the young monk turned increasingly brighter.
Of course, for the most part of the day, the young monk would choose to browse through sutras and comprehend Zen and the Dao in the Sutra Chamber.
Against a green lantern and ancient Buddha statue, he sat on a praying mat with a sutra gently propped on his hand with a calm expression and in a tranquil state.
Beside him, a red little fox squatted quietly without moving.
