Yue Li's messy writing
If one climbed to the top of the tallest mountain near the Falling Dragon Waterfall, there lay the Temple of Suffering.
Here, all day long, the monks would be scurrying about with all sorts of activities. Chanting, making vegetarian food, meditating under oak trees or on the verandas. There were also many children being trained by the experienced monks here; they would be more carefree, running around, drawing faces on the meditating monks with ink brushes.
Yet, as the night comes, everything settles down. The noisy children go to sleep in their assigned quarters, and the monks, as disciplined as baldies that they were, would also move into silent meditations.
On the roof of the tallest temple building in the complex sat Yue Li, and she was alone. Her brows were furrowed in contemplation, often writing something on a piece of paper with an ink brush before throwing it away.