In Shaolin Temple.
The scenery remained as ever, with the verdant mountains elegant, and the solitary peak towering. Monks sat cross-legged, elderly scholars read books, and a man in a blue robe leaned lazily on a bamboo chair, holding a Pill Scripture without looking, his eye closed to the wind, his brows stern as usual.
Wang Anfeng suddenly relaxed.
It was as if the clouds had parted after a storm, and the chaotic thoughts that had swirled like a dance of demons vanished in an instant, leaving only tranquility. He pursed his lips and, as usual, approached to greet with a bow, saying in a low voice,
"Greeting Master, Second Master, and Scholar."
The chanting of scriptures paused briefly, and Master Ci opened his eyes to look at the young man.
His thoughts churned.
He had many emotions in his heart, still filled with worries and fears, yet also overwhelmed with joy. As his thoughts reached his lips, he simply said softly,
"Anfeng, you did very well."