In the dim, oppressive temple, heavy with the scent of sandalwood, Li Huowang stood before three clay statues, pondering a question.
Was that voice real, or just an illusion?
I just got to this village. The Sitting Oblivion Path hasn't even appeared, yet I've already managed to confuse myself.
Just as Li Huowang was immersed in this thought, the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. The white-haired temple keeper poked his head halfway in, holding a lantern whose dim candlelight illuminated everything inside.
Using the weak glow of the lantern, he scrutinized the temple's interior, paying special attention to the beams overhead. However, after sweeping his gaze around, he didn't see a single soul.
"Strange. No thief, so why is the lock broken?" Filled with suspicion, the temple keeper patrolled the area once more before pulling out a hemp rope and tightly wrapping it around the tiger-head door handle.
