"Ow!"
"The g-ground's shaking?!"
"Has the Dragon King manifested?!"
Hundreds of incense customers in the hall were struck pale with terror by the sudden tremor and strange sound.
The temple priest who had just lunged forward to snatch the three sticks of thick incense bore the brunt of it; that low growl and shaking scared him so badly his face went ghastly white, his legs turned to jelly, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.
Stumbling as he still tried to grab the three thick incense sticks from Chen Yi's hand, he kept bowing toward the Dragon King statue, his voice trembling: "Dragon King, quell your anger! Dragon King, quell your anger, please! It's this madman's ignorant offense, it's not my doing, not the temple's doing!!"
Cold sweat streamed down his forehead; the look he gave Chen Yi was full of shock, rage, and venomous resentment, as if this incense customer from who-knows-where had torn a hole in the heavens.
