In the depths of the temple, there was an ancient well covered with green stone slabs, atop which lay a tattered scripture.
Four chains extended from the edge of the well to the hands of stone statues of Arhats placed at the four corners.
A white-bearded old monk sat cross-legged in front of the well.
This area was already closed off to visitors, and just recently, the abbot had strictly ordered the monks not to approach.
As the sun sank low in the west, the old monk's shadow stretched long until it was shadowed by another figure that stepped on it.
The old monk opened his eyes and sighed, "Cui Guiying, you’ve finally arrived."
Aunt Liu dropped the large bag in her hand and walked to one of the stone Arhat statues, grabbing a chain, and pulled back forcefully.
With a loud clatter, the other three chains moved in unison, and the four stones blocking the center of the well were pulled aside.
Aunt Liu walked to the edge of the well, pulled back the tattered scripture, tossed it aside casually, and then kicked, sending the top stone slab tumbling aside with a loud bang.
The old monk didn’t say much, only quietly picked up the fallen scripture.
Aunt Liu didn’t rush to descend into the well; instead, she looked at the old monk and asked, "What are you still doing here?"