Chapter 971

"Mr. Liang, Mr. Liang?" the young monk pressed his palms together, calling out softly, "Where should I place the meal?"

Dusk painted the sky in orange-red hues, clouds stretching across the expanse like a thick, velvety coat, obscuring the view of mountains, rivers, and streams. Five novices, around ten years of age, lined up in a small queue, each carrying a large food container, panting and puffing out white mist.

Emerging from Master Dixian's quarters, Liang Qu bowed his head, lost in relenting thoughts.

The novice took a deep breath.

"Today's meal was personally prepared by Master Shi Feng, who, at over a hundred years old, seldom cooks himself these days, usually leaving the task to his disciples. For some reason, he was in the mood today, and the abbot specifically instructed us to deliver five portions – enough for fifteen to share. They've just come off the stove, still warm."

Liang Qu stepped aside: "Bring them into the hall."

"Alright."