"Senior Dao Shan was free. He was doing what he loved. Though he was poor and down-and-out, he was willing, and never tired of it! One could say that the life Senior Dao Shan lived was the result of seeking benevolence and obtaining benevolence! It was also a form of cultivation for him!" Xiao Jian spoke without the slightest stage fright, his tone carrying the weight of many years. "Yet these women, though they seem to live amid brocade and splendor, those glamorous outer garments cannot hide the tears behind them! Does Senior truly think they are all willing? A pair of jade arms pillows a thousand men; two red lips are tasted by ten thousand guests. Not everyone here can endure such a life! But... they have no choice. They have no freedom. They must live this way, must give themselves a chance to survive! Senior, look behind you. That stream filled with painted pleasure boats may be a hundred times prettier than the stream at Qiyang Temple, and smell ten thousand times sweeter, but... this junior can say with certainty that far more white bones are buried beneath this stream than in that stinking ditch at Qiyang Temple! Those women who cannot bear the loneliness, cannot endure a life like a birdcage, cannot see any hope for themselves, cannot glimpse even a sliver of sunlight that belongs to them... most will choose to bury their pasts in this seemingly clear stream!!!"
"Senior, they... are the most pitiful worms of all!" Xiao Jian sighed. "Compared to them, Senior Dao Shan lives in an immortal palace!"
"Hehe..." Xiao Hua smiled. Looking at this Daoist whose body seemed to carry who knew how many stories, he said, "If they chose to bury themselves here, why could they not wash away the