Heavy snow fell outside the Chanlin Temple hall.
Inside, the Buddha statue appeared somewhat worn, with the gold paint peeling off the Buddha's outstretched hand. In the harsh winter, the Chanlin Temple couldn't even afford food, let alone worry about the Buddha losing a layer of paint.
Five-year-old Yuankong sat on a meditation cushion in the hall, sniffing and flipping through a Buddhist scripture.
He had been reading this scripture for half a year, and with his sharp little mind, he could recite it backward by now.
