Qian Daoliu heard the footsteps and turned around. That face that had weathered the vicissitudes of life wore an extremely calm and collected expression, as if he were waiting for a long-appointed old friend.
"You're here." Qian Daoliu spoke, his voice low and gentle.
Qian Hantian stopped in front of the statue and slightly bowed, "First Elder."
Qian Daoliu nodded, forgoing pleasantries. He turned around, walked toward a long corridor on the side of the Worship Hall, and glanced back at Qian Hantian, "Follow me."
The corridor was deep, with portraits of past First Elders hanging on the walls on both sides. Each portrait was framed in heavy wood. The figures in the paintings were old or young with varied expressions, but every pair of eyes carried the same serene light.
Qian Hantian followed behind Qian Daoliu, his gaze sweeping across those portraits one by one, his pace unhurried.
At the end of the corridor was an unassuming wooden door. Qian Daoliu pushed it open and stepped aside to let Qian Hantian enter first.
Inside the door was a modestly sized reception room.
The furnishings were simple: a round table, two chairs, and a Soul Guidance Lamp in the corner of the room, casting a warm yellow halo that illuminated the entire space.
The curtains were drawn tightly shut, hiding the night outside. The air was filled with a scent that blended aged paper with a faint aroma of ink.
Qian Daoliu closed the door, sat down on one side of the round table, and raised a hand to signal Qian Hantian to sit opposite him.
Qian Hantian sat down and leaned his walking stick against the edge of the table. He did not speak first, quietly waiting.
Qian Daoliu was silent for a moment, as if organizing his phrasing,