Hearing that there were not enough offerings, all the elderly clenched their fists, while the children hid behind the crowd. The atmosphere onsite turned chillingly cold.
...
"Who allowed you to speak?" Pan Hao, noticing the change in the mood, somewhat arrogantly said, "Quiet! I am communicating with it."
"Everybody shut up!"
Mr. Huang and others quickly closed their mouths.
Pan Hao, pretending to be impressive, jumped around muttering praises to the Great God and recited a few verses of scripture, still in Chinese, which the local natives couldn't understand at all.
The old turtle's expression turned even more amiable, its head retracting as if in coordination, still flattering.
"It is my master... let me... eat..."
"Eat the incense offerings, right?"
"Eat... incense! Incense!" It finally said the word, appearing extremely excited.
I roughly understood, it wasn't about me but about the Saint.
Indeed, in the end, it was the Saint who saved me.
