The monk was cut off mid-speech, leaving him looking thoroughly uncomfortable. He counted on his fingers for a long while, his face contorting as though he were constipated, before finally squeezing out a few words. "Passed down from our forebears."
Then the monk finally said something intelligible.
Bitter Silence Temple had a single line of succession, with one master and one disciple in each generation.
According to legend, the founding patriarch of Bitter Silence Temple had been a disciple of the Sixth Patriarch and had attended upon the Sixth Patriarch Huineng for three years.
Afterward, for some unknown reason, he had suddenly left, wandering far and wide and practicing asceticism along the way. Eventually, he had reached Mount Luofu, found a cave halfway up the mountain, and devoted himself to Buddhist practice there.
Bitter Silence Temple should really have been called Bitter Silence Cave.
The monk was the current master of Bitter Silence Cave.
Yang Yong listened to the monk ramble on at length, but still heard nothing he actually cared about.
"Do you have any more of those Buddha Bone Śarīras?"
"Sure."
As the monk spoke, he reached into his robes and brought out a whole armful.
This time, however, the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace showed no reaction at all.
With a look of disdain, Yang Yong looked past the monk at the Daoist behind him.
The Daoist had been looking anxious earlier, wanting to ask Yang Yong for help.
Now, seeing that Liu Hong had already gone to help cut the threads off those people, he immediately ran over.
He ran up to a woman who looked at least fifty, eagerly sidling up to her.
Yang Yong looked over.
Before the apocalypse, the woman might have been somewhat attractive if she had put some effort into her makeup.
But