Stepping out of the Mongolian yurt, the old monk turned his head and whispered, "Mr. All-known, do you think he will become the next Buchen? Have I fulfilled Buchen's wish by doing this?"
"How should I know? I just didn't want to be a third wheel. I don't understand your Buddhist matters." Pan Ke laughed, "However, [Unseen Red Dust] sending a letter and a photo to Li Changhe at the last moment probably meant that. Whether he becomes a Buddhist Transcendent or not, he can at least accept [Unseen Red Dust]'s apology. In terms of repaying the karmic debt, it's enough. It can also be seen as lending a helping hand to someone similar."
"As for whether Li Changhe can hold onto it, that's his own business. We can't interfere. No, no one can. We should focus on the eeriness here. Let's talk about karma after we survive."
Inside the yurt, Li Changhe examined the box he had just received. It was heavy and hard, and about thirty centimeters long, a black rectangular box.