The Xieyang Pagoda

The few of them had only sat down and talked for a few sentences. The hot water on the stove hadn't even boiled yet, and the tea leaves and tea set they had taken out hadn't been used.

"Wait here for a moment. We'll go up the mountain to inform Master and our senior uncles," Xuanhui instructed the others. "Pay attention to the dinner distribution today. Everyone's portion must be fixed to ensure everyone gets their share."

Several young monks looked to be about the same age as Yuanming. It seemed that only Xuanhui here had a sense of vicissitude.

As for the old abbots and monks mentioned in the brochure, and the temple's abbot, they hadn't seen any of them.

Were all these people in the pagoda on the mountain?

When they went out, Yuanming had already started distributing food to everyone.

It was called dinner, but it was actually just a bowl of thin, watery soup with some boiled leaves. Durandal even suspected that the green color in the soup was only there because of the nutrient serum she had provided.

Did these people eat this kind of thing in the past?

Durandal couldn't help but think of the things she had eaten in the past few days. It seemed that the worst meals she had were at the frontlines... but even those had vegetables and meat, and were large and filling.

Even plain white rice was much better than this.

This was the first time she had seen a scene outside the base.

But watching everyone gratefully accept the bowl of what could hardly be called food, Durandal felt a pang in her heart.

It shouldn't be like this...

"Lady Durandal, we should go," Rita said, walking up to Durandal and calling her by her title.

Looking back, she saw Xuanhui carrying a small bucket filled with some of this tea soup.

He bowed slightly to Durandal. "Please follow me up the mountain."

Durandal took one last look at the survivors, then silently followed Xuanhui up the mountain path.

The temple was not far from the pagoda. Before long, they could no longer see any tea trees, and the golden pagoda appeared before them.

Magnificent and ornate... a stark contrast to the temple they had just left.

"Actually, this should be our temple. The place we were just at was built by us monks for our daily living," Xuanhui explained to the three of them. "We have to come here for our daily chanting and worship.

"In the past, we would spend most of our time here every day. But for the past few months, we've been divided into two groups. Master, senior uncles, and the others maintain the chanting in the pagoda, while we younger and stronger ones help everyone.

"After all, our temple has a history of nearly a thousand years. No matter what natural disasters or man-made calamities, the incense and chanting have never been interrupted. It's the same now."

"If you have to do this every day... don't you get tired?" Li Sushang thought about the feeling of having to sit there every day and felt that she would probably go crazy in a few days.

Durandal felt the same way, but in reality...

Rita, who was already used to waking up at 5:00 AM for a morning run and going to bed at 12:00 AM sharp, felt that neither of them had the right to say so.

"It might be tiring at the beginning," Xuanhui smiled at the three of them. He had answered the question of whether it was tiring or not many times before. "But after you get used to it, it's the current life that I'm not used to.

"Chanting to the Buddha has become a necessary part of my life. Other things are too complicated. Only the feeling of emptiness when chanting is my comfort for the day."

As they talked, they had already arrived at the pagoda. It was really luxuriously built. Durandal could even tell where money had been spent and where effort had been put in.

Xuanhui bowed slightly at the main gate, then took off his shoes and walked barefoot into the pagoda. Durandal looked down, took off her shoes as well, but was still wearing her armor.

All three of them did the same.

As soon as she entered the pagoda, Durandal suddenly felt as if she was being watched. Looking up, she saw countless arhats and bodhisattvas of different forms on the layers of the pagoda.

Some were large and round, some had eight exquisite arms, some held a pure vase, and some were shrouded in a rosy glow.

And every one of them was watching, looking at the entrance, as if to remind everyone who entered the pagoda—a god is watching three feet above your head.

It was still magnificent here, but there was no sense of luxury. Instead, a heavy sense of oppression rushed over her.

Retracting her gaze, Durandal looked straight ahead. In the vast pagoda, in the very center, was a lotus platform, on which sat a small Buddha.

That was the golden Buddha.

In front of the lotus platform sat several old monks with aged bodies. Even though they were sitting up straight, it was not difficult to see that their figures were already stooped. Several monks were wearing wide robes that covered their lower bodies.

The chanting of Buddhist scriptures in the pagoda came from the mouths of these old men. The entry of the group did not disturb them at all.

Xuanhui carried the small bucket of tea soup to the side of the old monks, took out a stack of bowls, and poured some for each of them. The small bucket only gave each old monk about half a bowl.

The old monk who was chanting with his eyes closed finally opened them, revealing a pair of bloodshot, cloudy eyes.

Durandal had already walked closer and saw the old monk's expression.

There was not a trace of consciousness in those eyes. They were more chaotic than someone who had just woken up, more lifeless than a newborn baby.

This sacred pagoda had such a strange pair of eyes. It was really a bit... scary.

After a long while, the old monk's consciousness finally returned. He stretched out a trembling hand, took the bowl, and brought it to his lips with a shiver.

This really looked very difficult.

The old monks sipped the tea in small mouthfuls. After putting down their teacups, they closed their eyes again and returned to their state of meditation.

Xuanhui whispered a few words in the ear of the oldest and most haggard-looking monk among them. Durandal immediately saw the old monk's lifeless eyes light up.

A moment later, Xuanhui walked over, but for some reason, his face was a little sad.

"Master said he wants to talk to you. He asks you to sit in front of him, is that okay?" Xuanhui's tone was unexpectedly low, even humble.

Rita glanced at the old monk who had not entered a meditative state. In front of him was the golden Buddha, which meant that the place they were to sit was under the golden Buddha, directly facing the chanting of the old monks.

Even someone who didn't know Buddhist etiquette would understand that this was a great act of disrespect.

But it was the old monk who had proposed it... This posture... seemed more like he was about to entrust something.

"Lady Durandal, Sushang and I will go send the signal. Please stay here, is that okay?" Rita said to Durandal, then turned and left with Li Sushang.

Durandal, who was left behind, could only take the initiative to go to the old monk and sit cross-legged in front of him, imitating his posture.