November's sun could not help but be tinged with a chill.
The camphor tree beyond the walls seemed to have no spirit either.
An ant appeared to have lost its way, leaving the column behind to circle alone beneath the high threshold.
Jiang Wang, Jingli, and Kujue had already been waiting outside the Dragon-Subduing Courtyard for two hours...
The monk who had gone to deliver the message said he would inform the head of the courtyard, then vanished without a trace.
Kujue stood with his arms folded, looking imposing. He seemed like a creditor who had come to collect a debt, rather than some pitiful fellow turned away at the door—though all that stood before him was a tightly shut gate.
It was no small feat that he could keep his head high and chest out for a full two hours without changing posture.
Jiang Wang stood as well, but he was silent, silent as a blue stone. He had always possessed ample patience.
Wearing his conical hat, Jingli squatted nearby. Every so often, he looked at his master, seeming to want to say something, yet not daring to say it.
"Cough." Jiang Wang ultimately could not bear to watch the sallow-faced old monk remain so embarrassed, and said, "Perhaps the head of the Dragon-Subduing Courtyard isn't here. Shall we come back tomorrow?"
Kujue breathed a sigh of relief. "My good disciple is right. That brat Kubing has probably gone on a long journey. Even if he heard my message and hurried back, he wouldn't make it in time. Another day, another day!"
He turned to Jingli. "Why aren't you hurrying to prepare some vegetarian food for your junior brother? Squatting there like a block of wood, so dull-witted!"
Jingli remained squatting, only raising his eyes to look at Kujue.