Liu Jingtang was even more bored than Cui Jiuyang.
He could barely read, so the books Cui Jiuyang had borrowed for leisure might as well have been written in some heavenly script to him.
He often paced around near the door to their room to relieve his boredom.
But Cui Jiuyang had told him not to wander, and he obediently stayed close. At most, he would stand on the outskirts of the central hall for a while, listening to the priests preach, before hurrying back to their room.
He did not dare set so much as half a foot into any of the other galleries or passages.
After he had wandered around the central hall enough times, however, the kindly Father Ram recruited him for some work.
Father Ram often preached in the central hall. He was meticulous in everything he did, and after every sermon, he personally cleaned around the pulpit and wiped down the statues, candlesticks, and lamps.
When Liu Jingtang wandered over, the priest would smilingly call him over to help with the cleaning.
The pulpit was wiped down every day and was practically spotless. How dirty could it possibly get?
Father Ram probably had the peculiar condition that later generations would call an obsession with cleanliness.
Liu Jingtang knew nothing of that. Instead, he thought this foreign monk was exceptionally devout and hardworking.
The Taoists in their temples and the Buddhist monks in their monasteries might not wash the meditation cushions beneath their backsides even once in six months.
Yet this foreign monk Lam carefully wiped down his pulpit every day. To Liu Jingtang, that truly exemplified the bearing of an eminent monk of great virtue.
Ever since Liu Jingtang had confirmed that immortals and demons really existed, he had developed a much greater reverence for