When the late autumn sun rose, the fallen leaves in front of the door were being swept into withered yellow hills. The temple door opened with a creak, and someone walked lightly across the threshold carrying two wooden barrels.
"Master"
The man carrying the barrel was called to a halt, and the sunlight shone on his white beard, which made him look a bit like a saint.
"What's wrong, Wangchen?"
Wangchen hesitated a little, "Master... Master, actually I have never understood that since I entered the temple, I can see you going down the mountain to carry water every day."
He saw that his master's eyes were a little dim and said, "Master, please don't blame me for talking too much." Then he lowered his head and continued sweeping the floor.
The old monk paused for a while, then put down the burden and the barrel, and straightened his clothes.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
