"How can you be sure I'm the destined one the abbot has been waiting for?" Jiang Cheng asked, eyeing the blind old monk with some concern. "I have little aptitude for Buddhism, and as far as I know, there are more than just my brother and me in the temple. There are other pilgrims in the West Wing."
The old monk recited a Buddhist invocation. "Amitabha. You're too modest, benefactor. How could someone with little aptitude for Buddhism have made it through that forest of delusion?"
Jiang Cheng looked in the direction indicated by the old monk's prayer beads. It was the Small Woods they had just passed through. "The forest of delusion..." He furrowed his brow slightly.
"Precisely." The old monk's expression was solemn. "My senior brother, the abbot, built this forest based on the realm of Garam in the Buddhist scriptures. Ordinary people cannot pass through it; they only lose their way. Even the monks of this temple need me to guide them through."
"Amitabha. I ask you to put the people of the world first and not refuse."
Since things had come to this, Jiang Cheng couldn't very well turn the old monk down. Besides, he wanted to see what the Scripture Library looked like during the day, and meet the mysterious abbot.
"Then I'll accept your offer."
As soon as he finished speaking, Jiang Cheng went to push open the tightly shut wooden door. But in the next instant, a withered hand stopped him.
"Please wait, benefactor. There's one more thing I must explain."
The old monk pressed his palms together. His face was a strange grayish white. It was midday, yet even the sunlight seemed to lose its warmth beside him. "My senior brother the abbot and several other senior monks are currently in closed-door