Late at night.
The night watchman had already beaten the drum for the second watch.
Chen Ji stood in front of the gate of Ginkgo Courtyard, rubbing his cheek, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.
In the courtyard, Xiaoman was dozing by the stone table, holding a little black cat.
The young monk sat beside the stone table, eyes closed, chanting sutras.
Hearing the door open, the young monk opened his eyes and met Chen Ji’s gaze.
His eyes seemed like a still lake suddenly stirred by ripples, directly looking into Chen Ji’s heart.
The moon-white kasaya robe draped over his body was as gentle as a shining moon.
Chen Ji saw his expression, fell silent for a moment, then smiled faintly, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
The young monk lowered his head, clasped his hands together: “Benefactor, do not mistake ‘self-attachment’ for your true heart. Attachment is the root of vexation. One should abide nowhere and let the mind arise... Benefactor, you actually know your own heart’s intent.”