Yan Zhuoxu dreamed that he walked into that medicinal bath meditation room.

He half-scooped up the gardenia he had been longing for day and night from the water.

His hand touched the inscription on it.

He then removed the ink-black writing, which fell into the dark medicinal liquid and floated on the surface of the water.

He reached his hand underwater and grasped the flower branch.

Those hands that twirled the prayer beads, copied scriptures, added oil to the ever-burning lamps, and trimmed the candles—hands as pure and noble as cold jade.

At this moment, however, it is underwater, in a place where gods and Buddhas do not concern themselves.

Greed runs deep.

The air inside was humid and hot, robbing people of their senses.

He too was tainted by sin.

The screen breaks and cuts.

He returned to his meditation room, and under the silent gaze of all the gods and Buddhas in the room, he grabbed Shen Zhiyi's ankle and pinned her down.

They tore off all the fabric covering the scriptures.

And the bright yellow kasaya he was wearing.

The soft silk skirt overlapped with the solemn and sacred monk's robe.

It creates a bewitching, sinful beauty.

The flickering light of the ever-burning lamp cast the image of two intertwined bodies onto the wall.

The Buddha's light shines everywhere.

But it was the beginning of depravity.

In his fear of betraying Buddha, Yan Zhuoxu kissed her neck, and kissed and licked her reddened earlobes and face insatiably.

The Buddha said that if one has faith, aspiration, and practice, one can ascend to the Pure Land sooner.

He believed her.

May she...

He couldn't help but get closer to her...

Yan Zhuoxu, delirious with high fever, thought in a daze.

Buddha, Buddha, why did he not see the Asuras of Hell, but instead went to the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss?

Who can answer this for him...?

He was drenched in cold sweat and suddenly opened his eyes.

The meditation room was quiet and secluded.

He found himself lying on the couch without realizing it.

A square scarf was also covering his forehead.

He slowly raised his hand, took off the handkerchief, and frowned in confusion.

Turning his head, he saw Shen Zhiyi kneeling by the bed, her head resting near his arm, her eyes closed, as if she were asleep.

His heart suddenly pounded.

What is she doing here?

Yan Zhuoxu lowered her eyes, staring at the handkerchief in her hand, then turned her head and saw the basin of water on the ground.

In an instant, I understood.

He has a fever.

She stayed there all night, taking care of him until his fever subsided and he slept soundly...

A strange, indescribable emotion welled up in Yan Zhuoxu's heart. He pursed his lips and stared intently at her.

She clearly still has another man in her heart.

Yet she treated him so well and was completely unsuspecting.

Is it because he is a monk?

Therefore, naturally, in her heart, she was a person without desires or wants, so she didn't need to abide by any boundaries.

Yan Zhuoxu looked away, her heart heavy with a sense of unease.

A moment later, he couldn't help but turn to look at her again.

She seemed extremely tired.

Half of his face was resting on his arm, and the other half was shrouded in lamplight and moonlight.

It's soft and fluffy, and incredibly cute.

Yan Zhuoxu saw her slightly pouting, soft, rosy lips.

His throat bobbed up and down.

In his dream, he kissed so many places, but he never kissed her lips.

Would that be his answer?

He gripped the handkerchief tightly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Shen Zhiyi stirred, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

Yan Zhuoxu subtly shifted his gaze.

"Master, you're awake?!" She rushed over in surprise, but as if hesitant about something, she retreated just before getting close to him.

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault..."

Her eyes drooped. "If my gift to the master hadn't been so excessive, you wouldn't have been so frightened."

"Fortunately, Abbot Wu came to see you and said you were fine, just troubled by an obsession. Once that is broken, you will be fine."

"Master, your fever has subsided. Are you feeling better?"

Obsession grips the heart.

Yan Zhuoxu's lips were pale, and his expression was somewhat gloomy.

"It's alright." He moved his lips, only to find that his voice was unusually hoarse.

Shen Zhiyi immediately got up to pour him some water.

"Have some water to soothe him." She brought over a teacup, intending to help him up, but Yan Zhuoxu pushed her away.

He propped himself up on his arms, turned to the side, took the teacup from her hand, and took a sip.

Shen Zhiyi took the empty cup, knelt down in front of him, and looked up at him.

"Master, do you still blame me?"

She paused, then said, "I didn't mean anything by it."

She had no idea that he would be so frightened that he would have a high fever all night.

It really scared her a bit.

Perhaps she was too impatient...

She only wanted to persuade him to return to secular life; she didn't want to harm his body.

A look of apology welled up in Shen Zhiyi's eyes.

Yan Zhuoxu lowered his eyes.

I saw her nervously holding the teacup.

Slender fingers clasp together, forming a circle along the rim of the cup.

His mind went blank.

I recalled that scene from my dream.

She knelt before him, holding his...

However, neither hand can be completely...

Yan Zhuoxu suddenly lost his strength.

He fell back onto the bed.

He flipped over and faced the wall.

"As I said, this has nothing to do with you." He closed his eyes, deliberately making his voice sound calm and indifferent. "I'm fine now, you can go back."

Shen Zhiyi stared at the cold, taut lines of his spine.

He lowered his head and said softly, "Okay."

"Then I'll go back..." Her voice sounded very downcast. "You should get some rest."

Yan Zhuoxu heard her put down her teacup and walk to the door.

Every step he took was a blow to his heart.

The wooden door creaked open—

He closed his eyes briefly before finally speaking, "Come with me to listen to the sutra during the morning class tomorrow."

Shen Zhiyi froze in her tracks.

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