Which Great Being Took These Clay Sculptures?

Shen Le hopped up and down. One moment he was standing, the next squatting, then sitting on the ground, then lying down...

At the cost of three sets of clothes being rolled into rags too ruined to wear, he finally finished restoring this batch of mud sculptures of demons and ghosts.

Or rather, he had smoothed over the wounds and eased the pain of these demons and ghosts. Those cuts, arrow wounds, gunshot wounds, hammer blows, horse-hoof injuries...

Those severed limbs, broken bones, split skulls, intestines hanging out from their bellies...

One by one, his hands lifted them up, arranged them, and put them back together. In the end, at least on the surface, they disappeared from sight, restoring the mud sculptures' appearances until they looked like normal people—no, normal deceased people.

As he worked on them one by one, the fluctuations coming from the mud sculptures gradually became gentler and calmer.

The roars, screams, and wails that had once echoed through the room slowly weakened and slowly faded away.

It was as though the warriors who had fought and killed on the battlefield centuries ago had finally been gathered up and buried...

Of course, this restoration and peace were not Shen Le's accomplishment alone.

From beginning to end, little monk Nengqian sat quietly at the side, rolling Buddhist prayer beads between his fingers as his chanting continued without pause. Shen Le restored them for as long as he chanted:

Such perseverance and dedication made Shen Le especially want to ask:

After sitting for that long, wouldn't you get hemorrhoids?

"Ah... Finally done..."

He set down the brush in his hand, threw out one final spell, felt the paint solidify over the mud sculpture, and stretched in satisfaction.

Then he quickly bent over, gathered up a huge bundle of incense