"Where did this bald monk come from? He seems to have profound cultivation!"
At dusk, Feng Qing'an gazed at the distant west, where a thin golden light shot up into the sky. It was particularly striking against the gradually darkening sky.
This golden light was different from the righteous aura gradually returning to his residence. At first glance, the two might seem similar, but Feng Qing'an had no particular reaction to his own golden light. If anything, it could eliminate the distracting thoughts in his mind and allowed him to cultivate more quickly.
But the golden light at the horizon, unobservable by ordinary people, was different. If he stared for too long, Buddhist chants would echo in his mind, which annoyed him greatly.
Feng Qing'an knew where the golden light came from. It was from a temple built by an old monk who arrived in the vicinity late last year. Surprisingly, this old monk was truly wealthy.
