In the evening, the light was soft.
Faint sounds of hymnal chanting drifted from the Meditation Hall.
It seemed as if a multitude of devotees had gathered there, engaged in prayer.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
A moment later, with a creak,
the thick solid wood door was pushed open, and a large crowd poured out.
Chattering and talking as they walked.
Each face showed an excitement as if they had just touched an incredibly novel world.
The originally tranquil atmosphere suddenly became exceptionally noisy.
Among the crowd, Fang Cheng walked alone with his hands in his pockets.
He vaguely felt someone watching him from behind but disregarded it without turning around.
Chen Jiandong turned off the hall's lights and was the last to walk out.
His gaze briefly swept around, finally resting on a young man wearing glasses, gentle and scholarly in appearance.
A promising candidate from the first class, yet his recent performances were completely unrecognizable.
