Before the mountain gates of Qianmu Temple.
Two middle-aged men in short, gray-black linen clothes stood there. They were both over seven feet tall, with rather foreign features—deep-set eyes and high-bridged noses—and their hair was worn casually loose.
Most striking of all were their hands, which were tattooed with dense clusters of strange eyes. A light flickered around the eyes, making it look from a distance as if countless Sunflowers were growing on their hands.
When passersby looked at them with curiosity, one of them always responded with a cheerful smile. If anyone was curious enough to ask a question, he would patiently talk with them.
The other, however, kept a cold face and remained silent, as if the whole world owed him money.
DONG—
A distant, resonant bell toll suddenly rang out from the front hall of Qianmu Temple, echoing through the bustling hall, across the vast mountain path, and all the way to the mountain gates.
