Chapter 567: The Demons Have Quite a Few Treasures
The chanting of scriptures echoed endlessly.
All the monks sat unmoving, eyes closed.
Only at the very front sat a fat, pot-bellied monk in a golden robe upon a magnificent throne made entirely of pure gold, his gaze fixed upon the newcomers outside.
The Daoist stepped into the main hall, leaning on his bamboo staff.
The jujube-red horse stopped behind him, standing quietly in the rain. Meanwhile, the tiger-riding little girl followed him inside.
Just as the Daoist’s foot touched the stone floor of the hall, the pot-bellied monk at the front spoke loudly, “Who dares enter here?”
His voice rumbled like thunder, echoing with solemn authority, carrying a gravity that compelled those who heard it to empty their minds involuntarily.
The monks within the hall continued chanting scriptures with closed eyes.
After this thunderous voice, their chanting seemed even clearer and more distinct, reverberating throughout the hall. Each syllable felt tangible, as though drilling into the listeners’ ears.
“...”
Song You scratched his ear, unable to understand their chanting, and simply responded, “You know very well who I am, and you also know exactly why I’ve come.”
Upon hearing this, the pot-bellied monk widened his eyes angrily.