The Feast

"Master is gone!" A young Taoist, tears streaming down his face, rushed in and announced in a trembling voice. Immediately, cries echoed from all directions.

In the midst of the weeping crowd, Luo Jin and Zhouzhou stood out, their eyes dry and unaffected.

Luo Jin, pausing briefly, continued to place food on Zhouzhou's plate. Zhouzhou, devoid of any feelings towards Qingyang, simply ate.

The others couldn't reproach her, yet their glances at Luo Jin carried a weight of accusation. After all, regardless of his actions, Qingyang had been his master. How could he be so heartless, not shedding a single tear?

Their blatant stares even pierced through Zhouzhou's indifference, making her glare back defiantly.

Who said one must mourn in tears? Birth, aging, illness, and death were natural. As Taoists, shouldn't they comprehend this?

No wonder their spiritual progress was poor—they wasted their days scheming instead of studying.