In the dim, oppressive temple, heavy with the scent of sandalwood, Li Huowang stood before three clay statues, pondering a question in his mind. "Was that voice real, or just an illusion?"
As soon as I entered this village, the Sitting Oblivion Path hadn't appeared yet, but I've already managed to confuse myself.
Just as Li Huowang was immersed in his thoughts, the door was suddenly pushed open from outside. The temple keeper, his hair gray, raised a lantern and poked his head halfway in, the wan candlelight illuminating everything inside.
Using the weak glow of the lantern, he scrutinized the temple's interior, especially focusing on the beams overhead.
But after sweeping his gaze around, not a single shadow was to be seen.
"Strange, no thieves—so why's the lock broken?" Looking all suspicious, the temple keeper patrolled the place again before pulling out a hemp rope and tightly wrapping it around the tiger-head door handle.
