The scent of sandalwood permeated the meeting room of the Deep Blue. From the incense burner on the Buddha altar, wisps of white mist rose, enveloping the ancient, battered statue in a haze. Within the silence, the aura of nirvana lingered melancholically.
Taihua sat at the end of the long table, elegantly sipping a cup of hot tea while scanning through a document in her hand.
"After all these years, it seems the President is still a sentimental person."
Someone said coldly, "Though you don't believe in Buddhism, traces of Buddha linger everywhere. Perhaps you still haven't forgotten that chaotic era, when it was a Buddhist temple that took in the young, orphaned you."
This person was an elderly man with hair and beard as white as snow. His features were strikingly handsome with an almost Heavenly Person-like grace. He wore a black robe embroidered with intricate golden patterns, and on his back, he carried a Sword Box, appearing as though he belonged to an ancient era.
Thud!
