Yi Shuyuan and the others had not actually left. Standing outside the meditation chamber, they watched the young monk run out, shouting through his tears.
Watching the young monk's retreating figure, the Great Toad King could not help murmuring,
"I know that young monk. He stood beside Master Dingzhen earlier, accompanying him to receive the emperor. To call all the monks foolish would not be right, either. There are still some true monks in the Dragon Painting Temple."
Within the Dragon Painting Temple, the young monk's sobs and cries drew many monks over, then alarmed the entire temple.
Beneath the main peak of Dragon Painting Mountain, which had already lost its painted dragon, the Dragon Painting Temple's halls stood at varying heights, their earlier damage still unrepaired. At the sudden news, many monks were at a loss.
Some monks ran about calling out, while more and more gathered outside the abbot's meditation chamber.
Even now, many could not believe it, and many did not even dare approach.
All three hundred-odd monks of the Dragon Painting Temple, senior and junior, young and old, gathered there.
The temple's ruined buildings had yet to be restored, and wind-driven snow whitened the sky. Yet the most crowded place in the Dragon Painting Temple was so quiet that not even a crow or sparrow could be heard. The young monk's sobbing stood out all the more.
Holding the young monk's hand, the Temple Supervisor led many of the temple's senior monks to the abbot's meditation chamber.
The abbot had occasionally reprimanded him in private, sometimes leaving the Temple Supervisor rather annoyed. But now his lips trembled, and grief filled his heart.
"Abbot-why have you left us-"
The Temple Supervisor's weeping sounded less like a monk's than that of an ordinary person mourning a loved one.