The immortal voice was faint, and smoke lingered.
Above the nine heavens, countless moths were singing and dancing.
The gods sat in the Nine Heavens, looking at each other from afar.
"The Buddha's birthday is celebrated once every thousand years. How old was the little goddess that Arhat left behind during the last celebration? At that time, she had been making a fuss all day long to find her father and mother. In these thousand years, are you still clamoring to find your parents?" The god sat below the God of Creation and asked with a kind smile on his face.
When the gods heard this, they could not help but clap their hands and laugh.
Back then, on the birthday of the Arhat, the little girl hugged the Arhat statue and cried for her father.
The God of Creation could not help but smile.
"It's been a thousand years. You should be a big girl this year. According to ordinary people, she's about to grow into a woman of age."
The gods nodded.
