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In the pitch-blackness where moonlight did not reach, three shadowy figures were indistinctly scattered.,An old Taoist leaning against the wall, sat on the ground with his legs spread apart like a ladle.,So that morning, Ou Yangrong, with his sharp and critical gaze, took a taxi to Donglin Temple. When he arrived, he saw, "Goodness gracious! Not only was Mo Daojun early, but there were even people earlier than him. The queue of worshippers stretched all the way down the mountain. Ahead of him were mostly people his age, huddled in the cold wind, scrolling through their phones."。

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