Raindrops fell lightly on his face, a string of water beads clinging to his long eyelashes, and his sparse, cold brows and eyes smudged like ink.
The plaque with the iron-scripted "Jinsheng Temple" characters was just before them. The vermilion grand gate was imposing and solemn, a young monk, looking anxious, stood holding an umbrella by the side. Seeing Bai Su and the other approaching, he immediately walked up.
"Young Master, the room is prepared, you can rest first."
He was a child from the Bai Family's branch, sent to Jinsheng Temple for practice.
Bai Su didn't recognize him, but did not reject his goodwill, nodded, and without Jiang Gujun's support, walked toward Jinsheng Temple with careful steps.
His back was ramrod straight, as if even if the sky were falling, it wouldn't bend.
It was already past two in the morning.
They had spent almost an entire day on the stone steps.
