The visitors had all dispersed.
The Hanging Temple once more vanished into its meditative realm.
The disciples were perhaps still eagerly discussing the retreat of the Jing Kingdom people, but the assembled masters remaining before the Hanging Temple each kept silent.
"Everyone, return and meditate," Kuming said. "Dharma Master Zhie, please stay."
With the Destiny Bodhisattva's sudden rise to prominence, Kuming's prestige within the Hanging Temple had soared to unprecedented heights. None remained unconvinced.
The taciturn Kudi left without a word.
Kubing, however, gave his abbot senior brother a deep look. He had always been the one most protective of Kuming, understood better than anyone the hardship and burden his senior brother bore, and firmly believed that Kuming was no less capable than their master had been in his day—that he would be a fine abbot for the Hanging Temple. Yet only today had he learned that Kuming was this powerful, capable of making both Ying Jianghong and Ji Xuanzhen retreat.
And so much unfamiliarity arose.
More than a century together, growing up stealing chickens and dogs, skipping Buddhist lessons together... and then, in a single startled realization, it seemed that everyone had been hiding so many secrets. Whether it was Kuxing and Kujue, who had already departed, or their current abbot senior brother.
It seemed that he alone was nothing but bones beneath his skin.
For some reason, he suddenly recalled what Senior Brother Kujue had cursed at him before leaving all those years ago—
"Can't you read the room at all?!"
Kujue had cursed him too many times to count from childhood to adulthood. He had forgotten most of them, remembering only that yellow-faced old monk had a foul mouth. Yet this one sentence, after time had carved and hewn away at everything else, only grew clearer.
Perhaps