From then on, at 6 o'clock each morning, Zhou Luchen was punctually awakened by the old Monk to attend the scripture reading in the front hall.
Since Shen Jing's arrival, it seemed less gloomy.
At noon, Shen Jing would be outside with the young novice sweeping fallen leaves in the courtyard, occasionally leaning on her broom to gaze at his silhouette.
Zhou Luchen felt her happiness and ease even without looking back. He didn't understand why she loved to smile.
After sweeping, Shen Jing sat under a tree watching the young novice. "Such a large place. Does the little master have to sweep it by himself every day?"
The young novice performed a single-palm prayer gesture. "Amitabha, thank you."
Shen Jing rested her chin on her hand. "Why don't you let Pilgrims in? Why let him monopolize it for seven days?"
