The other elderly men in the temple were similar to him in demeanor and aura, but none looked as ancient. Some appeared to be in their sixties, others perhaps in their nineties, with deeply lined faces and snow-white beards. Yet the power exuding from their bodies betrayed appearances. Their auras were vibrant and pulsing, like that of youthful teenagers at the peak of cultivation, filled with vigor and spiritual insight.
They all wore ceremonial kasayas dyed in deep reds and radiant yellows, flowing robes stitched with symbols of the Dharma. In their hands, each held a string of prayer beads—some simple and wooden, others glimmering faintly with spiritual energy, infused with years of meditation.
