"Eighteen years..." Xiao Mo looked at the familiar scenery before him, a wave of emotion welling up in his heart. 'These past eighteen years have been far too quiet.'
Thinking back eighteen years, when Xiao Mo had first regained consciousness, he found himself transformed into a ceaselessly crying infant.
He understood at once—this was his second life.
Xiao Mo just hadn't expected this life to start with such hardship. He had been abandoned by his own parents at the gate of a temple.
Fortunately, an old monk had taken him into the temple.
From then on, Xiao Mo grew up in the temple. He became a monk at a young age, spending his days chanting sutras and his nights in meditation. In the blink of an eye, eighteen years had passed.
With his extraordinary talent and so-called "precocious wisdom," Xiao Mo learned the classics of the Buddhist School at a remarkable speed. His progress in his Realm was not slow in the least.
