[I am Shi Xing, when you read this line, I am already dead.]
Li Ang turned the slate over and the first sentence he read almost made him throw the slate away.
"What mysterious recovery."
He shook his head and continued reading along the small regular script.
[I was born in Linshui Town, Huizhou City, in the second year of Xiande's reign. My father's name is Qu Twelve, and my mother's name is Jiang Banmei. The two of them opened a clothing store in the town.
I was much precocious and intelligent compared to children of the same age. I could copy and recite scriptures at the age of three or four. Because I could recite Buddhist scriptures at home, the monks thought I had wisdom and took me to the White Horse Temple in Chang'an.
p>
I can’t say I was happy or unhappy during my time in the temple. Whether it was Zen lectures, techniques, paintings, music, tea ceremonies, or poems, I only needed to read them once to learn them. Gradually, I got used to other people’s praise, praise, or jealousy.
Hostility.
I became indifferent to the opinions and comments of others, and my inner clarification was like a mirror. Even if I won a debate between monks and Taoists when I was thirteen years old, and rode on a horse to tour Chang'an City, I would not feel any emotion.
When I was fourteen years old, my parents finally came to Chang'an. I felt a rare sense of happiness and joy, and went out of the city to greet them. But they only called out my Dharma name, Shixing, with fear and humility, under the protection of the monks.
Instead of my real name.
Qubai.
There is a thick wall between me and my biological parents.
For Zen Buddhism, a Buddhist should not have parents. Nor should he have brothers and sisters.
Since then, my heart has become more and more calm. I listened to the rain at the age of fourteen, and patrolled the clouds at the age of fifteen. By the time I was eighteen, I was only a thin piece of paper away from the Zhuxiao realm.
p>
Zen sects all over the world regard me as their hope for the future. The head of the Academy is willing to make an exception and accept me as a disciple. The Haotian Taoist sect, which has not been around the world for a long time, also wants me to go to Mount Taihao to lecture.
But what’s the point of all this?
I have left the world and am independent, without sorrow or joy.
I smile and caress the palms of believers, listen to their worries and sorrows, and give them guidance in life;
I shed tears for the homeless people who starved to death on the roadside, called on monks and Taoists to give porridge to the victims, and used patrol clouds to build bridges and pave the way;
I walk around the world and make friends outside the temple.
Listening to young scholars complaining about the practice of writing papers in the imperial examinations, listening to officials scorning officials who relied on the shadow of their fathers to rise to power, listening to prostitutes complaining about the madams who tried every means to deduct money, and listening to peasant women lamenting that their two children had starved to death...
I listened and observed everything in the world, but I didn't realize what the Buddhist scriptures say: "The three realms are unsafe, just like a house on fire." I just secretly felt that each of us were puppets on strings, acting together in a huge, messy, and meaningless drama.
Since it is a drama, there is no need to invest emotions - I maintain this idea and maintain the role I should play in the eyes of others.
A pious, intelligent and humble Buddhist.
Until, she appears.]
She?
Li Ang raised his eyebrows. The woman described in the slate was not a holy queen, but a young girl.
The following text is quite long in describing how beautiful, smart, and cunning the girl is. She is like a white fox on a snow-capped mountain.
Qu Bai, or Shi Xing Seng, was quickly shaken and was willing to give everything for it.
Including obeying the other party's arrangements, giving up the reputation of being a disciple of the Buddha, and compiling the "Dayun Sutra" for the Queen.
[I would like to transform into a stone bridge and be exposed to five hundred years of wind, five hundred years of sunshine, and five hundred years of rain, just so that she can walk across the bridge.]
Li Ang looked at the words on the slate and couldn't help rubbing his eyebrows. He always felt that this passage had a familiar feeling.
"The name of the girl is not mentioned on the stone tablet, but she is probably a subordinate of the Holy Queen. She may even be Shangguan Wan'er."
Li Ang shook his head, not interested in Shi Xingseng's love story. What he cared about was the secrets about Jing Nian Sect.
[I was destined to encounter disaster, so I deliberately asked the Holy Queen to kill me, and then buried my body in the Jing Nian Sect pagoda under the ghost market. In the hope that sixty years later, I would be resurrected with the secret method of Jing Nian Sect to cope with the situation.
The predicted catastrophe]
Sixty years?
Li Ang frowned slightly and calculated the time. This year happened to be the 60th year after the death of Shi Xingseng. Could this be his calculation?
But what about the predicted disaster?
[Now, you are me. Since the secret method of Jing Nian Sect will erase most of the memories, I divided all the memories about Jing Nian Sect and prophecies into three parts and placed them in three different locations, waiting for you to retrieve them.
In order to prevent the news from leaking, the following is the specific location, take this black lotus to find it.]
The text stops here, followed by some patterns similar to hieroglyphs.
"This is... Gu Si Youwen?"
Li Ang paused for a moment and recalled what he had seen in the Xuegong Library. Legend has it that in the northern border of the Yu Kingdom, there is an underground river system similar to the Chang'an Ghost Market, and the scale of the underground river is even larger.
The tribes who live in the underground river and live along the water are the Si Youmin.
The Siyou people rarely come to the surface, and their folk customs are very different from those on the surface. The most recent sighting record was a poet who accidentally fell into an underground river during the Jin Dynasty and was rescued by Si Youmin.
In addition, two hundred years ago, Dr. Xuegong discovered a pile of giant fish bones with inscriptions on them along the Yellow River. They were considered to be items of the Siyou tribe.
Li Ang narrowed his eyes. Since the number of Si You writing samples was rare and was only collected in the Dongjun Tower, he was not sure whether these hieroglyphics were the real Si You writings.
But if so, why would Monk Shixing use this kind of text to convey information? Didn’t he say that the resurrection secret method of Jing Nian Sect will erase most of the memory? How to ensure that he can remember this kind of text after resurrection?
Li Ang thought for a moment, then decisively covered the dark lotus flowers and stone slabs with ink silk, put on the mask given by Yajiu, walked out of the dense forest, and headed towards Chang'an.
He will not go down to the cave to find out what's going on.
First of all, Shi Xingseng only cares about the woman who is suspected of being Shangguan Wan'er, and has no true feelings for other people in the world.
Secondly, half of his head was blown off by Yajiu. The 'thing' that can still survive in this state is definitely not Shi Xingseng himself.
The most urgent task now is to remind the Zhenfu Division that a Buddha-slaughtered monster has appeared below the ghost market.
There are a huge number of those things, and they are not afraid of death. Each of them is equivalent to an acquired warrior. If they enter the ghost market or even escape from the surface, it will definitely lead to disaster.
Just as Li Ang was mingling with the crowd and entering the city gate, several teams of Zhenfu soldiers hurriedly drove out from Chang'an City. The leading officers had been seen before in the closing scene of Jian Yue Theater Troupe's Mutation.
And their riding direction is east of Chang'an.
"So fast?"
Li Ang was a little surprised and said silently in his heart, "That's right. With the ability of the Suppression Division, it is more than enough to place spies in the ghost market with hundreds of thousands of people. I must have heard the movement and received the news by now."<
/p>
With the help of the Zhenfu Division to deal with the Jing Nian Sect pagoda, Li Ang felt relieved. Wearing a mask, he walked into Chang'an City and walked back to his home in Jinchengfang.
This chapter has been completed!