He scratched his ear and neck, and thumped his knee, still relishing in the joy of changing back from being a peach tree laden with ripe fruits into his original monkey form.
Before he had a chance to bask in the cheers from his fellow disciples.
A loud reprimand came from outside.
"You're all making such a fuss, completely unbecoming of cultivators!"
The reproach emanated from outside. The bystander disciples turned around, ready to retort, only to find the White Robe Cultivator who often accompanies the master. Their expression dramatically changing, they silently dispersed, not daring to utter a word in defiance. None dared to leave without permission, they all stood to the side, ready to be reproached.
The master's anger, shared by the White Robe Cultivator, was fueled by the disgraceful behavior of the disciples. He shouted, "Cultivators! When you open your mouths, sacred energy dissipates; when you wag your tongues, conflict arises!"
