With a sweep of his sleeve, a whirlwind suddenly rose inside the temple.
Whoooosh!
The whirlwind howled past the Buddha altar, instantly sweeping up the dirt scattered across the floor. It spun and danced through the air, as though an invisible giant hand were stirring this mortal world.
The dirt spun faster and faster, whirling more and more fiercely. Before the two men's astonished eyes, it exploded into dust that filled the sky.
For a moment, the temple was thick with smoke and dust. The grayish-white haze blotted out the heavens and earth, and neither could see the other's face anymore.
Strangely, even as he watched the Buddhas depart, even as the statues that had accompanied him through countless days and nights turned to dust, not a trace of despair appeared on the old monk's face.
Instead, he let out a long sigh.
The sigh was soft, yet it seemed to pierce through a thousand years of time, carrying inexhaustible vicissitudes.
The old monk's lips moved slightly as he murmured, "Rootless grass... let it go. Let it go."
His voice was so low that it was nearly inaudible, as though he were speaking to himself—or bidding this land one final farewell.
Before he had finished speaking, the old monk set down his wine cup and reached for the last piece of beast meat.
He chewed slowly and carefully, as though savoring the final taste of his life. The meat gradually melted in his mouth, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.
Within that smile was release, relief, compassion, and a faint, almost imperceptible regret.
As though he were saying, "This life was nothing more than this."
Before the old man could recover his senses—
Boom!
A ball of golden flame instantly engulfed the old monk.
It was no ordinary