On the same night, under the veil of darkness, a group of monks returned to the main entrance of Divine Dragon Temple.
"Master," the monk guarding the gate greeted with hands clasped in respect, looking reverently at the white-robed monk leading the group.
Bian Ji smiled and nodded, stepping into the temple and heading towards the rear hall.
The rest of the monks followed suit, carrying with them some utensils used for preaching.
—After the evening's dharma assembly concluded and the invited dignitaries from the Capital had departed, these monks began tidying up the aftermath.
Bian Ji, who appeared to be just over thirty, with soft and handsome features and a serene demeanor, eloquently strolled along the temple path, his sparse eyebrows framing eyes as clear as a baby's.
Monks along the way would stop to pay their respects, and he returned each greeting with a smile, not slighting a single one.
