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His gray robes were tattered and his face was gaunt, making it impossible to tell his age.,So that morning, Ou Yangrong, with his sharp and critical gaze, took a taxi to Donglin Temple. When he arrived, he saw, "Goodness gracious! Not only was Mo Daojun early, but there were even people earlier than him. The queue of worshippers stretched all the way down the mountain. Ahead of him were mostly people his age, huddled in the cold wind, scrolling through their phones.",Ouyang Rong sat on the cold, hard floor of the dungeon, his whole body soaked.。