Central Province, Inverted Hanging Temple.
Panting heavily, Yuankong plopped down in front of the Inverted Hanging Temple's mountain gate, bracing both hands on the steps and lifting his gaze toward the azure sky.
Before the temple gates stood the same young śrāmaṇera in an ocher robe, his face tinged with curiosity as he studied the man before him, who clearly possessed Golden Core cultivation yet had not used it, walking through the Inverted Hanging Temple's trial step by step instead.
Yuankong.
The young śrāmaṇera naturally knew who the man before him was.
The unlucky monk Qian Qing spoke of.
Sure enough, he was someone just as strange as Qian Qing.
Yuankong turned sideways, looking at the Inverted Hanging Temple's plaque, its calligraphy sweeping like flying dragons and dancing phoenixes, and remarked with a sigh:
"Is this trial of yours even meant to be passed? Isn't it a bit too difficult?"
"What kind of demons and monsters designed it? And there's examining your heart, walking the road, climbing mountains..."
The young śrāmaṇera dutifully bowed, then replied in all seriousness:
"Since it's a trial, naturally, it isn't intended to let people pass."
"Huh?" Yuankong had not expected that answer and stared at the young śrāmaṇera in shock.
The young śrāmaṇera continued explaining:
"The abbot said that those without deluded desires in their hearts don't come to take the trial. Those whose hearts teem with greed, seeking what they cannot obtain, will naturally understand once they enter this trial: what cannot be obtained cannot be obtained. Other than letting go, all their unwillingness does is torment themselves."
"Because what cannot be done simply cannot be done. There are many things you cannot obtain just because you want them."
"So the Inverted Hanging Temple's trial was never intended to let people pass."
Yuankong fell