As everyone knew, Third Young Master Su was an easygoing soul who treated others kindly. In all his days wandering the martial world, he never fought if he could avoid it. But once he did fight, he went straight for the kill.
It was only a monastery, not a nunnery, and Su Che had had no intention of going in. But the monk's warning that "if you don't leave now, you're asking for a beating" had truly roused Third Young Master Su's temper.
What, did he want a fight?
Su Che gave the monk a cold look.
The bald man whose beard hung down his chest pressed on relentlessly.
"The Buddhist School seeks to deliver all sentient and insentient beings, but today is not a good day. If you gentlemen wish to worship the Buddha Ancestor, you had best come another day."
As he spoke, his eyes flicked toward several tall, hulking monks nearby. Their muscles bulged, and they stood broad-shouldered and thick-waisted before Skanda Hall. Rather than men who had left the world behind, they looked more like mountain bandits with shaved heads.
That piqued Third Young Master Su's curiosity.
"Your rules are strict indeed, Master."
Su Che still wore a smile. "My brother suffered an acute illness that damaged his eyes. We've long heard of eminent monks near Jiankang City who deliver people from suffering, so we came to try our luck. I never expected so many rules inside this monastery."
The monk appeared to be the monastery's guest-reception monk.
There were all sorts of distinctions among the posts in a Buddhist monastery. People spoke of the "four chief monks and eight stewards," but what mattered was what each actually oversaw. The guest-reception monk was one of those eight stewards. He managed the guest hall and handled the