Zuo Qingya was decidedly discontented, "Master, what do you mean by this? I've paid!"
Why should she be asked to leave?
"Amitabha," Master Miaoguang said calmly, "Heaven's wrath can be forgiven, but one brings doom upon oneself cannot live."
"What do you mean by bringing doom upon myself? Clarify your words!" Zuo Qingya panicked, "If you don't explain, I won't leave today!"
Master Miaoguang suddenly opened his eyes wide, his gaze piercing, and his voice turned cold: "You've stolen from others, and now it's time to return what's not yours. How dare you speak so shamelessly here!"
"Jingyuan, see the guest out!"
The young monk, wiping his sweat, stepped forward. "Please, benefactor."
"What is wrong with you, monk?" Zuo Qingya screamed in fury, "What do you mean by saying I've stolen? Whom have I stolen from? Speak up! How can you slander me like this?!"
Yet at the same time, she felt somewhat guilty.
