"Benefactor, please wait!"
As the call rang out, a man appeared before Yang Qing.
He wore plain robes and had a lean face, but his eyes were remarkably bright.
"What can I do for you, Master?"
Yang Qing and Jiang Zhizhou both stopped and looked at the monk before them.
"Today is the Laba Festival. The monks of our temple are praying for blessings upon all living beings. These are Fortune Pouches."
The monk slowly raised what he held to his chest, showing it to Jiang Zhizhou and Yang Qing.
Yang Qing lifted both hands to accept one and inclined his head. "Thank you."
The monk pressed his palms together in return, then took another Fortune Pouch from his sleeve and offered it to Jiang Zhizhou.
Unwilling to rebuff his kindness, Jiang Zhizhou accepted it and thanked him as well.
By now, the crowd gathered before the Cloud Return Zen Temple had grown larger, their voices rising in wave after wave.
The three stood silently watching for a while before the monk spoke again. "In this mortal world, people cling to greed, attachment, obsession, and madness, unaware that all these things are empty illusions."
Yang Qing smiled at the monk. "But without them, what would it mean to have journeyed through this mortal world at all?"
"Yet how do you explain pursuing something when you know it cannot be done?" The monk's voice was neither loud nor soft, and his expression scarcely changed.
"As human beings, there are always things we do not simply because they please us. Call it a foolish hope."
"As you wish, benefactor... but I see that your face is pale and your nails tinged blue. It seems you have used cold remedies too heavily to suppress an internal heat disorder, upsetting the balance of yin