"Father!"
"Sigh!"
"Father!"
"Sigh!"
"..."
The two of them acted like they were fools, one of them shouting in agreement and the other one walking towards the academy.
Yi Qing had donated a huge sum of money, which was a hundred taels of silver, to make fragrant oil. He thought he was going to spend a lot of money, but the big monk in charge of registration remained calm.
Yi Qing couldn't help but think that the monks in the capital were different. They treated money like dirt and dung, and they were more like high monks.
Back when she was in the small temple in the suburbs, she would occasionally go there whenever she wanted to. Every time she donated one or two taels of silver, she would be welcomed with especially warm hospitality.
And now, tsk tsk, this is the real High Monk.