Xie Mingxu pressed his fingers to his brow. "Do you think I'm some kind of glutton? Don't misunderstand. I was looking at how this offering table is already covered in dust."
He wiped a finger across the surface and showed it to Shen Ningning.
Sure enough, his fingertip was stained gray-black.
Shen Ningning pouted. "That's so weird..."
"You think it's weird too, right?"
"Yeah. There's food on the offering table, and everyone down the mountain is short on food. Why would the monk-uncles let all this food get dusty and go bad instead of eating it?" the little girl asked, confused.
Xie Mingxu's gaze swept the area, his eyes dark. "That's not the only thing I find suspicious. The monks in a temple are usually extremely reverent toward the Buddha, cleaning and making offerings every day. But look, even the Buddha's shoulder is covered in a thick layer of dust."
Shen Ningning tilted her little head back to look, and it was just as he said.
