There were four monks in total, among whom the one at the core was a monk in white robes, with bright eyes and white teeth and a radiant gaze. Nine scars from his monastic vows were on top of his head, and his whole body was enveloped with a faint Buddhist charm.
In one hand he held a string of Buddha beads, and in the other, he held a slowly rotating compass-like instrument.
As the four landed, Chen Yuan's gaze slowly swept over them, finally settling on the monk in white robes, his expression turning solemn.
On his person, he felt a faint, almost imperceptible sense of danger.
This... was rare.
"Esteemed monk, this place is not suitable to linger," one of the monks looked at Chen Yuan, his brows slightly furrowed as he pressed his palms together, seemingly trying to persuade Chen Yuan to leave.
"Not suitable to linger, yet why are you here?" Chen Yuan glanced indifferently at him.
A flicker of anger crossed the monk's brow but quickly disappeared, as he said solemnly:
