That day, the monks of Chanwood Temple waited outside the door for a long time.
Only when night fell did the abbot push open the door and emerge from the side room.
A relaxed smile appeared on the abbot's face. He gently waved to the monks who had been worrying outside for so long, signaling that everything was fine.
Seeing Jingyuan's relaxed expression, the monks hurriedly breathed sighs of relief.
Yuanjing reassured them, "Go back, all of you. He's only caught a chill. Just let him rest quietly for a while."
The monks of Chanwood Temple thought this was merely a small episode on their grandmaster-uncle's road to growing up.
After all, the very next day, they did indeed see their grandmaster-uncle cursing the abbot for being unreliable, his nose running.
In the past, when faced with such outrageous remarks from their grandmaster-uncle, the abbot would usually treat him to a round of Arhat Fist.
But today, the abbot merely watched their grandmaster-uncle with a broad smile.
His stare made their grandmaster-uncle's hair stand on end, and he admitted his mistake on the spot.
Their grandmaster-uncle was back to normal, but the abbot seemed to have become a different person.
In the past, as long as nobody was starving to death, the abbot would not go down the mountain to take jobs. After all, he liked peace and quiet, and the gongs and drums at funerals were simply too loud.
In the abbot's own words, the scriptures he had spent ages reciting would be blasted away by the suona before they had even left his mouth.
But ever since their grandmaster-uncle fell ill, the abbot frequently went down the mountain to take jobs.
He accepted any kind of work, even beginning to tell young women's marriage fortunes.
What was more,