Similar faces.
Identical voices.
The temple, covered in a year's worth of dust, and the Taoist priest who had appeared out of nowhere.
All these clues made Luo Chu and her husband, Qian Song, feel that something was not quite right.
"That was my grandfather." The young priest sighed. "My name is Yu Ren. He passed away, and now I have inherited this temple."
"Then why is it covered in dust?" Qian Song frowned. "As the temple's master, you've never cleaned it..."
"Forgotten by the world, it naturally gathers dust," Yu Ren said calmly. "Would cleaning it bring worshippers? Devotion is in the heart, not in what the eye sees."
Qian Song appeared thoughtful.
Xu Lai gave a light laugh. "Does what we see necessarily represent the truth?"
His pupils flickering, Yu Ren looked deeply at Xu Lai. "If seeing isn't believing, then what is?"
