The old monk, observing the little girl's unquestioning obedience and reliance on his nephew, had an expression that turned somewhat shadowy across his rugged face.
An Yin sat in the middle, with two men on either side of her.
She lowered her eyes and slowly tilted her head, her pupils trembling as she glanced at Bao Shaojin, seeing him sitting upright and stern.
"Is this the one you were talking about?"
In the silent wilderness of the mountains, the old monk's words broke the stillness.
"Yes." Bao Shaojin's thin lips moved slightly.
An Yin listened to their conversation, bewildered.
Though she recognized every word they said, strung together, she couldn't understand their meaning at all.
An Yin clutched her hands tightly, continuing to sit there nervously.
When An Yin's thoughts drifted far away, a clear voice sounded above her head.
"Girl, put your hand out." The old monk's tone was slightly solemn.
