"That's right, Master, it's me." Chen Yan nodded and sat down heavily on a stool in the room. "Where did you run off to just now? Do you know how worried Chuyi was?"
The old monk shook his head: "I had an asthma attack in the middle of the night, and my chest felt very tight. I couldn't catch my breath... So... I went out to get some air and inadvertently walked a bit far. I didn't expect to worry the child..."
As he spoke, he suddenly started coughing, clutching his chest.
Went out to get some air?
In this cold winter, barefoot, without shoes, without a coat, to get some air in the snow?
Chen Yan scoffed inwardly.
The old monk coughed for a long time. Chuyi was by his side, rubbing his chest and patting his back, attending to him.
Chen Yan remained calm and silent, just quietly watching the old monk without speaking or getting up.
Sure enough, after a while, the old monk, seeing no reaction from Chen Yan, gradually stopped coughing.
