Although his heart was filled with reluctance, Jue Ming knew very well that this place had become a huge vortex, where anyone caught in it had a slim chance of survival. He did not wish for his disciple to perish in this turmoil, as that would undoubtedly mean the end of his lineage.
Early the next morning, before dawn had broken, the Little Monk had packed his belongings and pushed open the great doors of the temple.
He looked back at the place where he had grown up, everything so familiar and dear, but today, he was to leave it all behind.
"Child, go, do not look back," Jue Ming stood at the entrance of the temple, watching his slightly frail little disciple, his face etched with sorrow as he spoke softly.
Tears filled the eyes of the Little Monk, he knelt on the ground and respectfully knocked his head against the floor three times towards his master before getting up.
