That morning, Ren Ye hurried through breakfast, then headed to the Inner Manor compound in North Wind Town.
Once inside, a minor civil official led Ren Ye to the flower-viewing pavilion at the rear of the compound. Looking up, he saw the monk Mora seated in the pavilion, drinking tea alone while reading a stack of documents half an arm high.
Mora looked only twenty-six or twenty-seven. He was exceptionally handsome, with rounded ears and eyes and a dignified bearing. If he had not spent all day wearing those somber purple monastic robes and sporting a monk's shaved head, he probably would have captivated quite a few naive young women.
Ren Ye had first met him in the Heavenly Capital, then spent nearly three days with him on the journey to North Wind Town. Logically, even if they were not intimate friends who knew every inch and depth of each other, they should at least have counted as acquaintances.
Yet after three full days traveling together, Ren Ye could not claim to know the slightest thing about him. Altogether, they had not exchanged even twenty sentences. This young monk Mora really was excessively taciturn in everyday life. Not only did he ignore Ren Ye, but he rarely spoke even to the five monks traveling with him.
Moreover, the Little Bad King could tell that he was not simply hoarding his words to feign profundity. He genuinely spoke little, genuinely giving the impression of profound Buddhist understanding, a peaceful mind, and exceptionally stable emotions.
Perhaps this was a quality unique to Cultivators of the Buddhist Sects. Once they reached a high grade, they concealed every sharp edge, keeping their wisdom within rather than sharing it with others.
Mora's only slight loss of composure had occurred when the Little Marquis revealed the