Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

The wind and snow howled through the valley.

The jeep stopped in front of an ancient red-walled temple perched on a cliff.

Li Changfeng opened the car door, and a cold wind rushed in. He tightened the collar of his windbreaker, clutching the letter of introduction stamped with a red seal in his hand.

"No matter how arrogant the abbot is, he'll have to give him some face when he sees the seal on the door." Li Changfeng said confidently as he strode toward the closed temple gate.

Droma leaned against the car, tearing at dried beef as she mumbled, "Abbot Zaxi doesn't even give the county magistrate face. Your piece of paper is probably only good for wiping your butt."

Su Ming huddled in the back seat, pulling his down jacket hood up tightly, leaving only his eyes showing. He held the bag of snacks in his arms, and white mist rose with each breath.

The lack of oxygen at high altitude made his head feel heavy, and he didn't want to move.

Li Changfeng stood in front of the vermilion gate, tidied his appearance, and raised his hand to knock on the door knocker.

The dull thud echoed through the valley.

After a long while, the side door opened a crack, and a young lama poked his head out, looking at Li Changfeng warily.

Li Changfeng immediately put on a standard official smile and handed over the documents with both hands: "Young master, we are..."

"The abbot does not see guests." The young lama said without even looking at the documents, and was about to close the door.

Li Changfeng braced himself against the door, his tone becoming more serious: "This is of utmost importance. These are documents from above; please be sure to forward them."

He insisted on stuffing the document inside.

The door closed.

Li Changfeng turned around and raised an eyebrow at Zhuoma: "See that? This is what you call..."

Before he could finish speaking, the side door opened again.

The file was thrown out.

There was even an extra footprint.

The footprint was right on the bright red official seal, making it particularly glaring.

Immediately afterwards, with a "bang," the door slammed shut again, and the sound of the bolt being bolted could even be heard from inside.

Li Changfeng stood there, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Looking at the document that had rolled on the snow and was covered in mud, he felt as if the footprints had not been kicked on the official seal, but rather firmly imprinted on his old face.

Zhuoma chuckled and chewed on some beef jerky: "I told you, that paper was too stiff, it was even uncomfortable to wipe your butt with."

Li Changfeng bent down to pick up the documents, brushed the snow off them, his face ashen, veins bulging on his neck. He wanted to kick the door, but remembering the nature of the mission, he forced himself to hold back and turned to look at Su Ming in the car.

Su Ming was peeling a lollipop.

"Don't look at me, I'm the technical consultant. Tackling this kind of physical work is your job." Su Ming closed the car window.

Li Changfeng took a deep breath and squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: "If you can handle this door, I'll add another five thousand to your compensation for emotional distress."

The car window rolled down instantly.

Su Ming got out of the car, put the uneaten lollipop back into his pocket, and then took out a small colorful box.

Instead of going through the main gate, he went around to the side wall of the temple.

There was a dog hole that was only half a person high, and several young monks dressed in dark red robes were squatting against the wall to avoid the wind, playing with a few pieces of sheep knuckle bones in their hands.

Li Changfeng and Zhuoma followed.

Li Changfeng frowned: "What do you want to do? Crawle through a dog hole?"

Su Ming ignored him and squatted down in front of several young lamas.

Upon seeing strangers, the children immediately put away their knuckle bones and tried to run away warily.

Su Ming took the colorful box out of his pocket and shook it.

"Shh shh shh".

The crisp sound attracted the children's attention.

Su Ming tore open the packaging and poured out a handful of pink crumbs into his palm.

"Want some?" Su Ming asked.

A young lama sniffed and looked at him warily: "Master said we can't eat food from the people down the mountain, or we'll get diarrhea."

Su Ming's expression was solemn, as if he were introducing a rare treasure: "This is not food, but a sacred object called the 'Thunder Sound Stone.' Those who are sincere can hold it in their mouths and hear the thunderous sound of the Buddha preaching in the heavens."

Zhuoma stopped chewing on the beef jerky and almost bit her tongue.

Li Changfeng covered his face and turned away in anguish. He felt that if he listened any longer, he might suffer a stroke from shame.

The young lamas looked at each other, their eyes full of curiosity, but none of them dared to move.

Su Ming grabbed a little bit and put it in his mouth.

He closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and listened attentively with a devout expression.

Although he was thinking that this batch of popping candy was a bit too strong, and his tongue was numb.

After a while, he opened his eyes and exhaled: "I heard it, it was really loud."

The snotty-nosed little lama finally couldn't resist and tentatively stretched out his dark little hand.

Su Ming poured a little into his hand.

The young lama hesitated for a moment, then stuck out his tongue and licked it.

The next second, the young lama shuddered, his eyes widened, and he instinctively covered his mouth, but still couldn't help exclaiming, "Crack! There's a butter lamp jumping on my tongue!"

Seeing this, the other children rushed forward.

"I want to hear it too!"

"Give me some thunderous sound too!"

Su Ming acted like a priest distributing communion, pouring a little for each person and finally handing the remaining half-packet to the eldest child who was leading the group.

"Take me to see the abbot." Su Ming patted the sugar crumbs off his hands. "This stuff gets damp easily, and it won't work once the Thunder Sound dissipates."

The young lama leading the group made a series of crackling sounds as he listened to the "thunderous sound of Buddha" while nodding frantically. He then turned and opened the side door of the woodshed, a door known only to them.

Su Ming turned around and glanced at Li Changfeng and Zhuoma, who were dumbfounded.

"Five thousand, put it in the book."