Farewell
Throughout the ages, the kings of Tang had all suppressed Buddhism and revered Daoism.
Yet ever since the Hu monks of the Western Regions had brought scriptures to the Central Plains on white horses, Buddhism had spread across the land like a prairie fire, relying on its teachings of reincarnation and karmic retribution.
Though it had waxed and waned along the way.
After the previous dynasty had vigorously promoted Buddhism, however, incense offerings had spread everywhere, and temples had risen in great numbers.
Buddhism had long since become a colossal force that could not be ignored.
Now, eight hundred years after the founding of Great Tang, even with the imperial court deliberately suppressing it, Buddhism remained deeply rooted. It stood on equal footing with the Daoist Sect, forming a world of its own beyond secular royal power.
Liangzhou Prefecture, western city gate.
Dust billowed along the official road.
Two monks clad in worn old kasayas were slowly making their way toward the city gate, one before the other.
The one in front was an aged monk with hair and beard as white as snow. His face was withered, his expression solemn. He fingered a string of prayer beads whose original color could no longer be discerned, murmuring a Buddhist invocation under his breath with every step.
Following behind him was a younger monk, barely past thirty by the look of him. A lingering fierceness hung between his brows, yet before the old monk, he appeared incomparably respectful.
The soldiers guarding the gate had intended to step forward and question them, but for some reason, the moment their gazes met the old monk's, a chill ran through their hearts, and they unconsciously moved aside to clear the way.
The two entered the city gate without obstruction, passed through several streets