Though quite a few people entered the temple today, even those traveling in groups of three or five were like drops of water falling into the sea once they scattered through the woods along this long road, quickly vanishing without a trace.
Li Yan's expression was neither joyful nor sorrowful, revealing nothing of his thoughts as he looked down coldly.
A monk dressed in an azure robe had appeared below, walking along the smooth flagstone path toward the mountain gate. From time to time, he would prostrate himself and kowtow.
The azure-robed monk was only in the Golden Core Realm. He walked neither quickly nor slowly, while Li Yan, standing in the tree, watched every one of his movements.
Not every monk here flew directly to the mountain gate before landing. Along this road into the mountain, aside from pilgrims entering and leaving the temple, some monks also entered on foot.
Li Yan had observed for a long time. Every one of these monks wore a devout expression, turning Buddhist beads in their hands as they followed step by step, their mouths continuously murmuring prayers.
These monks could clearly fly, yet they deliberately chose to walk. This should also have been a kind of Buddhist method for cultivating the heart.
Especially for these low-level monks, among whom ascetics were most numerous. They were cultivating their Buddhist hearts. Once their cultivation grew somewhat higher in the future, the time they spent sitting in meditation and chanting sutras would become ever longer...
As Li Yan watched the monk below, there was no one else within more than ten li before or behind him. From the treetop, Li Yan lightly pointed downward with one hand, and a strand of spiritual power silently spread over the area.
The monk walking devoutly below suddenly collapsed