"": 200,
"": "",
"": "Black specks dotted the sky-vultures circling overhead.
Red figures dotted the ground. Ascetic monks lay prostrate, then pushed themselves up and knelt again, performing Full-Body Prostrations.
Miao Yun was exceedingly cautious.
Luo Bin, by contrast, looked composed.
That sort of composure could not be feigned. It came from surviving great mountains and raging waters, terrible dangers and monstrous evils.
Even if the Living Buddha was as powerful as a Sinpo.
He was still a Living Buddha. A Buddha who remained in a Buddhist Court surely had to be benevolent.
Otherwise, why would Kong An have left the Tibetan Lands and gone all the way to Nanping City to build a new temple?
Right now, Luo Bin was merely a pilgrim entering a temple in search of an auspicious connection.
A benevolent Buddha would never make trouble for him.
To the west, at the foot of the mountain.
A young boy with a childish face wore a monk's robe.
He bent over, studying a tiny opening with complete concentration.
Sunlight fell across his small face, which was wreathed in smiles.
He looked exactly like a little child watching an ant nest or some other plaything.
Behind the child stood rows of lamas.
Yet the lamas looked solemn, as though awaiting some momentous event.
Suddenly, the boy's pupils contracted slightly. Alongside his smile came another emotion: anticipation, tinged with anger.
His eyes were so clear and pure that they resembled mountain lakes, almost entirely free of impurities.
Had anyone stood beside him, they would have seen the opening reflected in his eyes, and perhaps made out what looked like two heads moving deep inside it before swiftly disappearing.
He raised his head and straightened.
The little lama faced the sunlight, a halo of light spreading across