Yet today, the entire Tianlong Temple was shrouded in a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Outside the mountain gate, white funeral banners fluttered in the wind. Every monk wore a mournful expression and gripped a monastic staff as though facing a formidable enemy.
Led by the young monk, Lin Xuan made his way straight inside without obstruction.
Before he even entered the hall, he heard the low chanting of sutras coming from within.
Upon entering, he saw a corpse covered in white cloth lying in the center of the floor.
Several eminent monks sat around it. The man at their head had a compassionate face and a long flowing beard, yet his brows were marked by deep worry and exhaustion.
It was none other than Master Yideng.
"Master Yideng." Lin Xuan stepped forward and pressed his palms together.
Master Yideng slowly opened his eyes. At the sight of Lin Xuan, a glimmer of brightness passed through them. He reluctantly rose and returned the greeting.
"Amitabha. Benefactor Lin has come. This old monk has been occupied with the funeral arrangements and failed to welcome you properly. Please forgive me."
"You are too courteous, Master." Lin Xuan glanced at the white cloth on the ground and asked in a grave voice, "I heard that Master Kurong was murdered last night. What exactly happened? Given Master Kurong's cultivation, there are few in this world capable of injuring him, much less within Tianlong Temple, where so many masters are gathered."
Master Yideng let out a long sigh and said solemnly, "To be frank, this happened both suddenly and strangely. Late the night before last, the entire temple was silent. Then, fierce sounds of fighting suddenly came from Senior Brother Kurong's meditation chamber. Though it was brief, the force of the blows was so intense that even