It was winter. The lifeless highland was flat as a board with no place to hide. There was only some lonely greenness among the patches of withered weeds. In the distance, a drove of wild goats stormed through the land, rousing the sand and dust into the air.
Soon after, some people appeared.
"Bodhisattva, it's been a while," greeted a virtuous-looking, old monk with a solemn face. He wore a kasaya and fiddled with a string of rosary beads.
Bodhisattva Spirit King only smiled slightly, but he did not say anything else.
"You have descended before the others and set up your own association. It was a little puzzling..." The old monk frowned as he continued to fidget with his rosary beads.
The other man still kept his silence.
The old man ran out of things to say.
"Ha ha ha, I didn't know you two had arrived, looks like I'm late," said a grey-haired old man in black Taoist robe as he appeared.
