"Rise!"
Facing Gui Cang's three bows and nine kowtows, Zhou Qing stepped forward and gently helped him up.
Clapping him on the shoulder, "Nothing more needs to be said, as long as you live well."
Gui Cang slowly stood up, his eyes still red, yet he forced a smile and nodded heavily.
Ever since his mother's lifespan ended and she passed away, he had been practicing alone in Jiyuan Temple.
He was accustomed to the rules and regulations of the Buddhist sect and had experienced the warmth and coldness of human relationships. Except for Abbot Kuei, it had been a long time since anyone had spoken such simple yet warm words to him.
"By the way, you can casually give me something now!" Zhou Qing suddenly changed the subject, his tone carrying a hint of jest.
Gui Cang was taken aback at first, then he reacted, without any hesitation, and directly took off the storage bag hanging on his waist.
