"Amitabha."
Hengyuan tried to separate them, but he found that the grandfather and grandson were completely frozen, like cold, lifeless sculptures.
This monk, who was clearly a warrior monk but had a strong heart of compassion, used his hands mixed with icicles to dig a hole in the ground that was as stiff as iron and buried the bodies of the grandfather and grandson.
He sat in front of the grave and recited the incantation to ferry souls.
Chu Yuanqian stood at the side and watched silently.
They had encountered such a situation many times since the beginning of winter.
Every year, there would be frozen bones, but this year's winter was particularly difficult. Those who were poor could still struggle on with their last breath.
Those who were homeless, refugees, or beggars would not be able to survive the winter.
Then, how many people would die this winter?
