"If I really go, will I even be able to get out?"
Chen Yuan's face showed a cold smile.
The hypocrisy of the Buddhist sect, their pretentious piety; he knew it all too well.
To the Buddhist sect, submission meant harboring kind thoughts, perhaps becoming a real Buddha, while resistance meant impurity in the six roots, necessitating the listening to Buddhist teachings. So, does the Buddhist sect dictate the whole world?
Are they the rulers?
If not, why be so domineering?
Xuanming brought his hands together in one and supported with the other. The next moment, a stream of light flew out from those monks and slowly fell into his hand—it was a bowl.
A golden bowl, containing a powerful suppressive force.
"Benefactor Chen has misunderstood our Buddhist sect."
"That's a fact."
"If so, let's reveal the truth through action."
"Then why the hell did you talk so much nonsense?"
