Bai Zhu held the delicate wine bottle with no expression on his face.
"But the divine monk Wu Xian in the Vajra Temple?"
He smiled and asked Cui Yuanzhou beside him.
The divine monk has no appearance.
This is a true Buddha.
Not to mention that at a young age, he had reached the fifth realm of life.
Moreover, when he passed the Shurangama Dharma Assembly, he was so superb in Buddhist teachings that even the abbot of Vajra Temple fell in love with him. Regardless of dissuasion, he accepted Wu Xian as his direct disciple.
And long before Wu Xian paid homage to the Vajra Temple, his reputation was not weak at all.
He once quietly went to Beiwei and argued three times with the monks at Landuo Temple, the ancestral home of the Northern Sect, and won all three times.
But because of this, Wu Xian was detained in Landa Temple for seven years. It was not until the intervention of Shenzu Monk that he was able to return to the Southern Sect.
When Bai Shu was in Fenyin City, he spent some time with Wu Xian.
This monk is open-minded and elegant. When teaching Atractylodes, he is also gentle and has no hidden secrets.
Even being able to worship at Fengshan Temple was all thanks to Wu Xian's contribution.
When Bai Shu heard what Cui Yuanzhou said about Buddha, his first reaction was Wu Xian.
"It's not Wu Xian."
Unexpectedly, Cui Yuanzhou shook his head. He struggled to swallow the fat in his mouth and puffed out his cheeks and said:
"Wuxian seems to be tracking down the whereabouts of the great Zen Master Miaoyan. Wuxia is a clone. Vajra Temple and Qingli Palace are about to swear an alliance. This time, another Buddhist disciple is here."
"Junior brother is well-informed."
Bai Shu shook his head, sighing in his heart.
Whether it is Wu Xian tracing the traces of the great Zen Master Miaoyan, or whether it is Vajra Temple and Qingli Palace.
Even Bai Shu himself, the real monk of Fengshan Temple, only recently learned about it in Chuanxin Yuguili.
It had only been a few days, but Cui Yuanzhou, an outsider from the Taoist sect, actually knew about this matter.
"It's okay, it's okay."
The little fat man scratched his chin, his eyes looking quite proud.
"The Great Zen Master Miaoyan is a true six-level human being, so what does the Vajra Temple think?"
The corners of Cui Yuanzhou's mouth turned up, his face full of gloating:
"Could it be that he offended the Buddhist Bald Donkey and specifically used the excuse of searching for Miaoyan to deserve his death?"
"How can outsiders like you and me know about Buddhist stories?"
Bai Zhu doesn’t want to mention it again:
"I guess they have their own arrangements, which you and I can't know."
He asked again:
"I wonder which Buddha the disciple brother mentioned is exactly?"
Apart from Wu Xian, Bai Shu had never heard of any monk from the Vajra Temple who could be called a disciple of the Buddha.
The words that came out of Cui Yuanzhou's mouth made Bai Shu extremely confused.
"Senior brother, do you know who my uncle is?"
The little fat man suddenly stopped talking, with a rather proud look on his face, and avoided answering Bai Zhu's questions.
He came forward quietly, with a mysterious look on his face.
"Who?" Bai Zhu looked up helplessly.
"The Calculator of Jiejing Mountain!"
He patted his chest, "My uncle told me these things!"
Jiejingshan——
Bai Shu nodded thoughtfully.
This is a holy place composed of a group of people from three religions and nine streams. The sect has many miscellaneous schools and covers everything. Among them, it is especially famous for divination and fortune telling.
Today, most of the media outlets who make a living by selling information are Jie Jingshan’s downlines.
Baixiao Pavilion, Fengyin Pavilion, Jushengtang—these organizations are inextricably linked to Jiejing Mountain.
They span the three countries and even have stations as far away as small countries such as the South China Sea.
Jiejing Mountain can be regarded as the most active holy land in the world.
And Uncle Cui Yuanzhou is a fortune teller in Jie Jingshan, so it is not surprising that he can know some secrets.
"That Buddha——"
Cui Yuanzhou looked around cautiously and conveyed the message with his heartbeat:
"He is another direct disciple of Abbot Wu Xian of Jingang Temple. I heard that he practiced Zen in Qingyan Cave in Guzang County and was born in the past few days."
Is it him?
Bai Zhu was stunned when he heard the words, and even the wine bottle he was about to lift to his lips froze in mid-air.
I've heard of him myself.
The abbot's direct disciple is extremely talented.
As early as in Fenyin City, when Wu Xian persuaded him to join Buddhism, he used him as an example.
"Why?"
Bai Zhu is a little unbelievable:
"How can a monk who has not even passed the Shurangama Dharma Assembly be worthy of the title of Buddha?"
"He doesn't need to go through the Shurangama Dharma Assembly. Senior brother, you don't know yet. The news should come out in a few days."
The little fat man's face was full of solemnity and he spoke in a deep voice:
"Three days ago, this Buddhist disciple had a debate with Heavenly Official Xie Wei, and both of them were victorious and undefeated.
The Vajra Temple has been hiding its secrets from the world for countless years, and now, they have finally exposed their lies."
Facing Bai Shu's gaze, Cui Yuanzhou slowly shook his head:
"That son of Buddha, like Mr. Xuanwen, respects the innate and flawless ones!"
…
…
…
At this moment, Guzang County, outside Qingyan Cave.
After the beginning of winter, the temperature in the north gradually dropped, and many grass blades were stained with frost.
As for Guzang County, it has already received several heavy snowfalls.
This year's snow is different from the past, extremely thick and extremely...
On the mountain road covered with frost and snow, an old monk with white eyebrows stepped on his cloth shoes, one foot deep and one foot shallow, as he slowly walked down the mountain.
The snow was stepped on to make a crisp and soft sound, like the sound of a large piece of sponge cake being compacted.
After walking for two or three full meals, we arrived at a small village at the foot of the mountain.
The old monk did not use his magical powers and just walked down the mountain slowly as usual.
His shoulders were already covered with flying snow. Pedestrians passed by in a hurry and nodded to the old monk. The old monk solemnly clasped his hands together and smiled back.
Finally, he walked not far and stopped outside a hut.
There was a faint voice in the room, and it was the voice of a young man.
"Please divide this medicine into three parts, boil it before meals and take it. After two or three days, you will be fine."
The smell of fire came from inside the house. The old monk took a gentle breath, and a white mist appeared in front of him.
"The donor is weak and weak, so he still needs to practice martial arts more. Just treat it as a way to strengthen his body. It is always beneficial."
Then there was the sound of the wooden door creaking. The young monk smiled warmly, waved his hands repeatedly, and hurriedly jumped out of the door.
Behind him, a sick man with a woman and a child insisted on asking him to take away some money.
The burning sparks of the firewood exploded, and a dull red light became a little brighter.
"If you don't mind, the young monk will go down the mountain every day from now on and explain martial arts to the benefactor."
He smiled and stopped the sickly man who insisted on sending him away, and clasped his hands together:
"I just hope that the donor will not dislike the young monk's rough martial arts and his ability to be a teacher."
After saying this, the young monk waved his hands as if he were running for his life, and ran away in a flash.
Only that family was left standing there, thanking them profusely.
The old monk smiled slowly, raised his hands, and lifted up the group of people who were bowing down.
His figure flickered and then disappeared.
Sharp ice ridges hang down in long lengths, like swords, spears, and halberds.
There was a chill in the forest, and the vast white mist that covered people's eyes surged into flakes. The desolate cold air penetrated from every pore in the body, bringing with it a refreshing chill.
The young monk was as happy as an elk. He took a piece of ice and put it in his mouth, jumping up and down while humming a tuneless song.
Suddenly, the singing stopped. The young monk's eyes widened and he took the ice cubes off his mouth.
"teacher."
He bowed obediently and bowed solemnly to the white-browed old monk who was approaching.
