Zhang Chen relied on the faint light to look over, and what met her eyes was a little Daoist child of four or five, with a Daoist hairstyle, rosy lips, and white teeth looking at her. His eyes were clear as a pristine lake, only with ripples forming and water vapor gathering.
But still, full of grievance, he raised his finger to Zhang Chen, made a shushing gesture at his lips, and carefully shrunk into the corner.
Zhang Chen saw this and couldn't help but be stunned. Footsteps approached outside the door, and she heard those two figures standing in front of the offering table, looking at the mess upon it. Elder Wu couldn't help but furrow his brows: "These disciples are becoming increasingly unruly."
"The disciples will definitely be punished later, so they can learn a proper lesson," said another heavy-set middle-aged man.
