Li Huowang's words clearly had another layer of meaning, which the abbot of Zhengde Temple naturally understood.
He clasped his hands together and bowed to Li Huowang. "Amitabha, how virtuous, how virtuous, monks do not lie. Since I, as a poor monk, have said that Da Qi belongs to Benefactor Li, I will never renege on that."
"However, though Zhengde Temple is the national religion of Da Qi, it cannot control everyone's hearts. What the monks of Zhengde Temple cannot achieve, naturally other people will believe."
As he spoke, four monks brought in an old man, using their staffs to hold him up.
When he was brought to Li Huowang's presence, he immediately spilled everything he knew like pouring beans from a bamboo tube, as if a moment's delay would result in inhuman treatment.
"I don't know, I really don't know who spread it."
