"Dad, is this person pretending to be White Impermanence?"
"This is not a person." Tan Yunlong stood up, he had been looking for these files with a colleague, so he knew a bit about the content, "The photo shows a clay figure placed on top of a water tank."
"Isn't there a saying that even clay Bodhisattvas struggle to save themselves when crossing a river, so why intentionally place this clay figure on top of a water tank?"
"Why are you still asking me this kind of question?"
"Come on, if I don't ask you, who else can I ask? There's no one else in this archives room." While speaking, Tan Wenbin purposely looked around and called in a low voice, "Hello, is there anyone else?"
Suddenly, the papers in front of him fluttered.
Tan Wenbin's eyes widened instantly. The door to the archives room was closed and the window was just a small dome of glass at the corner of the wall that couldn't be opened at all. Where could the wind be coming from?
