I have been walking all day, and the raincoat on my body is no longer useful. The rainwater poured in along the collar, and it felt cold and sticky against my skin. The clean shirt I put on when I went out in the morning was now soaked and clinging to my body like a rag.
But I'm not complaining.
This is the path I chose.
An hour ago, I was still in the secret room of the Dragon King Palace, staring at the wall in a daze. A portrait of the former temple master hangs on the wall, and beneath the portrait is a row of incense burners filled with smoke. Qin Mo knelt behind me and said in a very low voice: "Palace Master, why do you have to do this kind of work yourself? Brothers, anyone can deliver it for you."
I didn't look back, I just looked at the eyes in the portrait - the eyes of the previous palace master were not closed when he died. He was waiting for an answer, but I couldn't give it. I just said lightly: "I just want to try to see what the life of ordinary people is like."
Qin Mo didn't dare to persuade him again. He knew he couldn't persuade me.
