Buddhist Path, Departure

The young monk rubbed his head. "Master, when we return to Western Heaven Continent this time, are we going to establish our own sect?"

The little monk had become a young monk, while the old monk was still an old monk. Only his features had grown more serene, and his eyes seemed to have seen through all the myriad faces of the Mortal World, carrying an air that stirred compassion in one's heart.

Compassion sprang from the Dao Heart; salvation was born of mercy.

Saving people and saving spirits were both forms of salvation in this world.

"Yes, Liaoyin, Liaowu. It is time for us to leave."

The old monk spoke kindly.

He looked toward the disciples behind him.

Over more than ten years, some disciples had departed, while others had come to embrace Buddhism.

Compared with the hardships of traveling countless miles, the tranquility of these past ten years had also been a trial of the soft, clinging fingers of the Mortal World.

Some disciples had endured hardship, only to plunge headlong into this soft red dust.

The old monk said nothing. He neither stopped them nor urged them toward salvation. Every person had their own karmic affinity; if they could find peace and joy, that was enough.

The aura around him was not powerful, yet it possessed an intangible bearing that put people's hearts at ease.

Only the young monk hesitated for a moment. "But Senior Brother Zhikong..."

After a pause, he spoke a name. This senior brother was one of the disciples who would not be traveling with them.

A trace of sorrow crossed the old monk's face, as though he let out a soft sigh. "The Buddha says that all living beings have their own Sea of Bitterness to cross, and the countless Other Shores all