Li Qingluo clenched his fists tightly as he spoke, and his knuckles made a crackling sound.
Duan Rongshi listened with his hands behind his back and narrowed his eyes deeply.
Soon, the second princess of Da Chu and her family entered the mountain gate with the solemn welcome of the monks of Ningyuan Temple.
After burning incense, worshipping, offering sacrifices and other rituals in accordance with the old customs, the second princess and her entourage finally dragged their tired bodies to the backyard wing, ready to settle down.
However, when she saw that they were assigned to some cramped small courtyards, and that in previous years even the slaves had more spacious living quarters, this year everyone came to report with grievance that there was no room at all, the second princess finally realized that something was wrong.
"Master Jie Chi, what on earth is going on?"
"In the past, I have never been treated like this."
"Besides, I donate no less than a thousand taels of silver every year. Don't you think I can't even get a spacious place to live in your Ningyuan Temple?"
The second princess of the Great Chu, Zong Zheng Zhiyuan, stared angrily at the fat monk Jie Chi with a pair of cold and beautiful eyes.
Although she is forty-four years old, she has almost no wrinkles on her face because she takes good care of herself.
Her head was covered with pearls and jade, making her look even more graceful and elegant than the Bodhisattva in the temple.
Her youngest daughter, Princess Changning, quickly said, "Mother, you've been used to living in the east wing in previous years. Although it's just barely enough, it's more spacious than this one, and it has better light."
"My daughter just checked. Not only is the room moldy everywhere, but there's also a strange smell."
"Ningyuan Temple is now increasingly disregarding us!"
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