It had been a while since Wang Guan had been running around constantly, resulting in precious little time spent with Beiye. Even though they kept in daily contact, they hadn't managed to share a single meal together.

However, perhaps because of this separation, upon their reunion, Wang Guan was surprised to find that Beiye’s appearance had subtly shifted. Her neatly cropped hair, which he hadn't noticed being grown out, was now long—incredibly dark, lustrous, and cascaded down her back like a soft waterfall, exuding an air of gentle grace.

Furthermore, she was dressed in a perfectly tailored business suit, clutching a file folder, which gave her an aura of sharp competence. Amidst her inherent warmth, there was the unmistakable poise of an elite white-collar professional, striking enough to catch Wang Guan’s eye and make him pause in surprise.

“What is it?”

Sensing Wang Guan’s momentary distraction, Beiye glanced around, her long hair swaying with the movement. A hint of confusion touched her pretty face. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong.” Wang Guan shook his head, unable to resist reaching out. He gently grasped a lock of her hair; it felt supple and glossy, surprisingly elastic as it slipped smoothly through his fingers, deepening his astonishment.

“When did your hair get this long?” Wang Wang laughed. “I almost thought it was a wig.”

“Hmph.”

Hearing this, Beiye expressed a faint, playful grievance. “How long has it been since we last saw each other, and you didn’t even notice I grew my hair out? You really don't pay attention to people.”

“Alright, alright, I was wrong. Please accept my apologies.” Wang Guan immediately bowed his head, admitting fault instantly. He knew that in a situation like this, an explanation would only sound like an excuse, making things worse.

The evidence spoke for itself. Seeing Wang Guan’s compliant attitude, Beiye nodded with satisfaction, letting the matter drop. At the same time, a flicker of nervous anticipation sparked in her eyes: “So, what do you think of my long hair?”

“Good, excellent,” Wang Wan praised wholeheartedly. “Beautiful people look good with any hairstyle.”

“You just know how to sweet-talk people,” Beiye retorted, rolling her eyes playfully, though the radiant joy shining in them was impossible to hide.

“Heaven is my witness, on matters of such fundamental importance, I never lie.”

Whether it was an inherent male trait or a latent instinct, Wang Guan found that his ability to deliver sweet nothings hadn't rusted at all, despite the lapse in practice.

Within a few exchanged pleasantries, Beiye’s eyes curved into crescent moons, and her mood brightened considerably. Meanwhile, Wang Guan’s gaze lingered on her long hair, a thoughtful expression beginning to form.

Beiye became slightly uneasy under his scrutiny and nervously smoothed her locks. “Is it really that beautiful?”

“Of course it is,” Wang Guan nodded earnestly, a smile playing on his lips. “I was just thinking, your hair has passed your shoulders in just a few months. It won't be long before it reaches your waist, will it? When your hair reaches your waist... let’s get married!”

“Ah!”

Beiye was stunned; the proposal was completely unexpected. Although she had dreamed of it, she never imagined hearing such words from Wang Guan at this moment. For an instant, her mind went blank, leaving her feeling adrift and at a loss.

After a long moment, Beiye finally came to her senses, a blush coloring her delicate face. She bit her lip and shot Wang Guan a sidelong glance. “No sincerity, I’m not listening to you…”

As she spoke, Beiye practically fled the scene—as swift in her departure as she had been in her arrival. Yet, in her light, quick steps, there was an unmistakable feeling of elation, betraying her immense happiness.

“Why did she leave so quickly?”

Just then, Yu Feibai and Tang Qinghua walked over. The two were quite perceptive; they had waited discreetly to the side while Wang Guan and Beiye were talking, only approaching once she had gone.

“She also muttered something as she left,” Yu Feibai commented with a look of gossip. “What was this about ‘no sincerity’?”

“Nothing much,” Wang Guan replied with a light smile. “Just proposed marriage.”

“What?”

Instantly, Yu Feibai and Tang Qinghua’s eyes widened. After confirming Wang Guan wasn't joking, they both gave him a thumbs-up, expressing their admiration. “You’re incredible!”

“What’s so impressive about that?” Wang Guan said calmly. “Just watch, before long, you two will be the ones getting pressured [to marry].”

Yu Feibai and Tang Qinghua exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. It seemed they were already intimately familiar with the anxieties of parental pressure to wed.

As the two were lamenting their situations, Wang Guan’s phone rang. He glanced at it and broke into a smile. “It’s Mr. Anderson. I just sent him a photo; he’s calling back so fast, he must be eager.”

Without making the caller wait, Wang Guan immediately answered.

“Wang…”

Although Mr. Anderson sounded hurried, he maintained a façade of unruffled calm, greeting Wang Guan with the warmth of a spring breeze. “How have you been lately? Is everything alright?”

“Good, very good,” Wang Guan replied with a smile. “And you, Mr. Anderson? Are you still in England?”

“No, no, I’m in Milan,” Mr. Anderson said. “I’m watching a fashion show and didn’t notice the photo you sent. My apologies.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Wang Guan was unconcerned, even disbelieving that Mr. Anderson hadn't examined the photo. Perhaps he had already printed it out and was studying it carefully before making the call.

“Wang, what was that photo about?” Mr. Anderson inquired then. “Were you asking me to help translate the text on it?”

“Something like that.”

Understanding that Mr. Anderson was feigning ignorance, Wang Guan was happy to play along. “I heard someone say that’s Hebrew, correct?”

“…Yes, it is Hebrew.”

Mr. Anderson admitted it, then began to steer the conversation subtly. “Wang, why are you suddenly interested in Hebrew?”

“A matter of chance,” Wang Guan chuckled lightly. “At first, I thought it might be Old English or Latin, but after having an expert in Western languages look at it, I learned it was Hebrew. The content seems to be the Ten Commandments of Moses…”

“Mmm-hmm…”

Mr. Anderson spoke evasively. “Moses is a prophet to our Jewish people, and the Ten Commandments are much like your Chinese Three Represents and Eight Honors and Disgraces—they are just standard moral guidelines…”

Knowing about the Three Represents and Eight Honors and Disgraces proved he truly deserved the title of a China expert.

Of course, Wang Guan knew exactly why Mr. Anderson was stressing the ordinariness of the Ten Commandments. He decided to stop beating around the bush and said with a smile, “The Ten Commandments might be ordinary, but the metal tablet inscribed with them doesn't seem like an ordinary object.”

“…How so?” Mr. Anderson sounded genuinely surprised.

“After I found the metal tablet, curiosity got the better of me, so I had it tested.” Wang Guan paused, then smiled. “Mr. Anderson, take a guess what the test results showed?”

Whether it was his imagination or not, Wang Guan faintly heard a sound of sharp, rapid breathing over the phone. However, after that brief moment, Mr. Anderson maintained his composure and calmly asked, “What were the results of the test?”

“The results indicated that the metal tablet is three thousand years old,” Wang Guan stated with mock wonder. “Naturally, I was highly skeptical of such a finding, and I started thinking about cutting off a piece for a comprehensive analysis.”

“No, absolutely do not…” Mr. Anderson exclaimed, stopping him abruptly. At the same time, he seemed to have connected the dots, and he let out a wry, resigned chuckle. “Wang, have you figured something out?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you think I should have figured out,” Wang Guan replied teasingly. “But I think I know what I need to know.”

“…I’m coming to China immediately.”

Mr. Anderson made his decision then and there. “I need to verify this in person.”

“You are welcome,” Wang Guan replied with a slight smile, concluding the call. Now, it was time for the patient angler, the hook already set—letting the willing fish bite.

“You’re smiling quite slyly,” Yu Feibai remarked, pursing his lips. “Looks like things went smoothly.”

“Half the battle is won,” Wang Guan said with a grin. “Enough talk. Let’s go see Master Banshan.”

The other two raised no objection. They left the resort center together, slowly making their way toward the mountain temple. After some recent maintenance, the mountain paths possessed an even deeper sense of Zen.

This Zen atmosphere was evident in the prayer flags hanging along the paths and on some of the trees, interspersed with smoldering incense sticks. For some inexplicable reason, people had a strong tendency to believe the ancient trees on the mountain possessed spiritual qualities, leading to the temple’s thriving incense use spilling over onto the surrounding large trees.

Naturally, the area with the most fervent incense burning was the main hall of the monastery. Soon, the three arrived at the main gate. Wang Guan immediately noticed the faint, swirling smoke inside the hall, indicating vigorous worship. It was also worth noting that the attendant monk responsible for welcoming visitors was incredibly discerning. Upon spotting the trio, he immediately approached with a bright smile and utmost courtesy.

He couldn't afford to be otherwise. Setting aside outsiders, every monk at Banshan Temple knew Wang Guan was the temple’s greatest benefactor. It was no exaggeration to say that without Wang Guan’s substantial support, the existence of Banshan Temple might have been uncertain.

Remembering the source of their fortune, no monk dared to show disrespect to Wang Guan.

Wang Guan, however, was not the type to let minor successes inflate his ego. He thanked the attendant monk warmly for the hospitality with a genuine smile, and under his guidance, they proceeded slowly toward the Abbot’s quarters to visit Monk Banshan.

Throughout their walk, Wang Guan’s strongest impression was the temple’s vibrant energy. While it wasn't so crowded as to be impassable, nearly every hall held worshippers, a level of activity reserved for famous temples. Most monasteries, unless hosting a major festival, would be quiet and desolate, with hardly a visitor in sight.

Here, however, not only were there many pilgrims and tourists, but the number of resident monks also seemed to have increased significantly. Upon inquiring, he learned that in the last six months, seeing Banshan Temple’s prosperity grow, the various monasteries of the Vinaya school had continuously provided support, pushing the monastic population past the three-digit mark, transforming it into a truly large temple.

With greater numbers came greater prestige, which naturally inspired more confidence in the faithful. After all, people tend to seek out major temples for veneration. With increased scale, there was no need for extensive promotion; followers naturally flocked there out of reverence.

Furthermore, given the current religious policies, as long as Banshan Temple avoided trouble and continued its current trajectory, it was destined to become a globally renowned sacred site.

The monks of Banshan Temple, from top to bottom, were utterly convinced of this reality...