I've Already Become an Immortal, and You Want to Convert Me to Buddhism?

At West Lake in March, the willows are as hazy as drifting smoke, the rain as sweet as wine. Grass is just sprouting on Broken Bridge, while monks at Jinshan Temple chant their sutras.

And so the story begins.

Xiao Qing: “Sister, we went through thick and thin together. I met him first!”

Bai Suzhen: “I knew him before you did. He saved my life, so I have to repay him!”