As Duan Rong stepped out of the dilapidated tavern, he was already a bit tipsy, his swarthy face now glowing with a touch of healthy redness.
Duan Rong staggered along, planning to return to his dormitory for a short nap to sober up.
He had just reached the entrance of the Yuan Shun Escort Agency when a voice suddenly came from behind.
"Are you Escort Master Duan?"
At that moment, the afternoon sun was blazing; Duan Rong turned his head abruptly, and the sunlight dazzled his drunken eyes.
He tilted his head, squinting, and vaguely saw a tall skinny figure standing not far from the stone lions at the entrance of the Escort Agency, silhouetted against the light!
Duan Rong descended a few steps before he could see that it was actually a monk, clad in a yellow silk kasaya, a string of glossy prayer beads hanging around his neck, with nine precept scars burned into his shaven head, as thin as a skeleton.
