Looking up, the temple was vast, its sacred image majestic.
White smoke floated around, with the crowded people lowering their eyes in compliance, murmuring quietly among themselves, queuing up and bowing their heads like ants.
The Great Compassion Vajra Bodhisattva looked down upon all beings, as mortals knelt upon the mountains and fields. The sounds of chanting sutras filled the air, the sacred hymns lingering on.
It was Lin Wanzhou's turn, the young girl wearing a black mask, her hat already taken off. She knelt gracefully in front of the cushion, hands pressed together, eyes closed, an image of unspeakable devotion.
Her willowy figure swayed gently, like the quality of blue smoke.
The girl and the ancient temple somehow harmonized inexplicably.
Xu Qingyan also bowed, praying for blessings for his mother.
