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... red robe and carefully folded it, placing it under the Bodhi Tree.
Outside the monastery, the battlefield was aflame, smoke billowed, and beneath the thunderous cries of battle, blood flowed like a river.
Inside the monastery, Ruosheng’s heart was as calm as still water. Clad in clean white clothes, he sat cross-legged under the tree, fingering the Buddha beads, reciting the Prajna Sutra like his master.
The night wind blew gently, shedding Bodhi leaves that fell atop Ruo ...
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