The narrow alley suddenly fell silent.
Two senior disciples stood with their hands behind their backs, silently staring at the monk Zhikong before them.
After a long moment, the corners of their mouths lifted slightly into faint smiles. “That’s good.”
“Junior brother, please hurry back to the sect with the Dragon-Tiger Scripture. The elders are waiting.”
Zhijing reached out to pat Zhikong on the shoulder, reminding him, “The two of us won’t disturb you any longer. You focus on your work. Farewell.”
With that said, their eyes held a trace of humor, without the slightest hesitation.
They turned and walked out of the alley, but their pace was noticeably quicker than when they had arrived.
Zhikong remained with his palms pressed together, slowly opening his eyes but did not look back.
His gaze stayed fixed on his shoe tips. “Senior brothers, the elders of the sect once taught us what compassion truly means.”
He was simply inexperienced in worldly affairs; he was not truly a fool.
He knew very well that his earlier reaction was hard for others to believe.
There was no doubt that Shen Xianyou had read the Dragon-Tiger Scripture, but people are naturally curious and innocent of wrongdoing unless informed otherwise.