Putuo Mountain Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple is a holy place in the entire Western world, with countless believers and countless pilgrims.
However, the reason why the Holy Land is a Holy Land is because many mortals spend their entire lives not knowing what the Holy Land looks like.
There are many pilgrims, but only few can arrive.
The holy land is built on the mountain and has thousands of temples, which are magnificent.
The bald old abbot, wearing a red cassock and nine ring scars on his bald head, was waiting at the gate of the temple.
There are five elders beside the old abbot, some are young and some are old. The five elders also have nine ring scars on their heads.
The elders with nine ring scars are equivalent to the god-transformation monks in the world of cultivation.
The elders all looked at An Qingli first and nodded happily, and then heard the old abbot say: "Four Tan Yue have come all the way, please come in."
"Please come inside." Several Buddhist elders raised their left hands in front of them and stretched out their right hands, making an invitation gesture.
"Abbott, you're welcome."
The two ancestors Qi Min and Qi Gao nodded, led An Qingli and Ji Xiaopeng, and followed the abbot's footsteps towards the temple.
The steps are very light, but the steps are extremely fast.
Wearing flowers and willows, there are only a few afterimages of the little Buddha knocking on wooden fish.
There are many temples in the temple. Some temples are chanting loudly, and some temples are filled with sandalwood. If you look sideways, you can also catch a glimpse of the Buddha statues in different postures in the temples.
An Qingli took a casual look and saw an angry-eyed Vajra holding a vajra in his hand, while Ji Xiaopeng saw a drooping-eyed Bodhisattva carrying a basket.
The senior monks moved too fast, and the sound of chanting sutras and the Buddha statues just passed by in a hurry.
Xiao Jintan likes it here so much. He feels more friendly as soon as he arrives here, and even the air here smells comfortable.
The little Pegasus was in the spirit beast bag and said excitedly: "Qingli, those Buddhist elders are really lucky, especially the young Buddhist cultivators with nine scars, and the good ones in your sect.
On par."
Generally speaking, the longer a monk lives, the more serious the cause and effect, and the luck will decline. Of course, this only applies to most people.
There are a small number of people who are not restricted, so they can become big bosses and ascend to the upper world.
Xiao Jintan praised him: "He has bright eyes and kind eyebrows. He is as good-looking as the Supreme Being. He has such accomplishments at such a young age, and he is a proud man with great luck."
"Little Buddha, what is your name, and who is that young elder?" Ji Xiaopeng asked the little Buddha next to him through a message. The little Buddha was next to his master and was about the same age and stature as Ji Xiaopeng.
It's almost as high.
"The little monk's name is Kong Jian." Kong Jian clasped his hands together and said solemnly, "That young elder is the great-uncle of Master Huineng."
Ji Xiaopeng asked again: "Very powerful?"
Xiao Kongjian thought for a while, nodded and said: "It's amazing."
"How awesome?" Ji Xiaopeng asked again.
Xiaokong said: "It is said that when Master Huineng was still in a small country in the secular world, he went down to the mountain gate for the first time to become a vegetarian. He didn't do anything. He just walked on the street with his alms bowl and raised the things given by the female donors on the street.
That mountain gate has been sculpted three hundred years ago with a golden body of Bodhisattva, and it was still sculpted according to the appearance of Master Huineng, and it is still very popular today."
Ji Xiaopeng nodded. It was indeed powerful for one person to support the entire temple.
While he was talking, the abbot had already led everyone to Yifang Chanyuan.
The Zen courtyard is quiet and quiet, with several Zen rooms with green bricks and green tiles. There is a huge open space in the Zen courtyard, which can accommodate tens of thousands of people sitting cross-legged to discuss Taoism.
In the center of the wide open space is a huge dead tree.
The dead trees are withering, which is extremely eye-catching in this quiet and green area.
The trunk of the dead tree is so thick that it requires seven or eight people to hug it. The top of the trunk is charred black and has traces of lightning strikes.
Several branches stretched out, and the branches were hung with dry yellow leaves. Some of the leaves had fallen to the ground. When the wind blew, many more crumbling leaves also swirled and fell to the ground.
The dead leaves on this ground were cleared yesterday, and they are all over again today.
The abbot and several elders felt extremely heavy. Fortunately, there were no worries on their heads. If there were, they would have been removed long ago.
This dead tree is the only Bodhi tree in Bianlan Realm.
Xiao Jintan's heart was very heavy, and he felt a bit sad about the death of a rabbit or a fox.
So what if the sacred tree is approaching its longevity, and it is also in this ruined and desolate state.
"Can it be saved?"
The old abbot looked at the dead leaves on the ground with a heavy heart.
The bodhi tree is a sacred tree, and it can best help people in Buddhism to realize the Tao.
Nowadays, the spiritual energy of Bianlan Realm has been greatly reduced, the sacred tree has withered, the luck of Buddhism has declined, and Taoism is not much better.
The feeling of being helpless and powerless, the more senior monks are, the more profound they experience it.
It's like cultivating hard to the point of overcoming the tribulation, but a voice tells you that this is the only way to go, and it's impossible to go any higher. It's the end of just overcoming the tribulation, and you just have to wait for old age and death.
The same is true for Buddhism, not to mention that many Buddhist cultivators in Buddhism have to watch the only sacred tree wither and die.
An Qingli released his spiritual consciousness to investigate the old tree, and Xiao Jintan was also helping.
After a while, An Qingli said: "This tree has lived for ten thousand years, and its life span is approaching. It is similar to a lamp that has run out of oil. What I can do now is to add oil to the lamp again to keep this tree alive.
.”
There is hope in the eyes of the old abbot, and it is not the desireless thing preached by believers: "Is it just to keep alive?"
"So far, this is all I can do." An Qingli said, "When my skills advance, maybe there will be a turn for the better."
An elder asked urgently: "How long will it take?"
An Qingli shook his head: "Not sure."
"Not sure?" An elder sighed.
Although practicing Buddhism emphasizes resigning oneself to circumstances and letting things take their own course, that is not important. Only by doing so can one achieve a peaceful state of mind. If the Buddha statues in the temple were torn down, many Buddhist practitioners would definitely turn into angry-eyed Vajras.
This sacred Bodhi tree is undoubtedly the Buddha statue in the hearts of these Buddhist cultivators, and is even much more important than the Buddha statue.
An elder said again: "Whatever you need, little friend, I'll prepare it right away."
An Qingli looked up at the huge dead tree and said: "Spiritual stones, many spiritual stones, the more the better."
Several elders nodded and looked at the old abbot. The old abbot took out a storage bag from his arms. In the storage bag were five pieces of the best spiritual marrow. They were the relics of eminent monks that had been sold not long ago and were specially prepared for An Qingli.
on.
"Is that enough?"
The old abbot asked if it was not enough, he would sell a few more relics. There were not many other relics in Wanfo Temple, but there were quite a few relics.
An Qingli took the storage bag and took a look, what a guy, five pieces of the best spiritual essence almost dazzled An Qingli.
It is indeed the largest Buddhist temple in the West and is incredibly rich.
Little Jin Tan was so happy that he really wanted to get a piece of it and bury it in the flower bed where he was raised.
An Qingli put away the storage bag and nodded: "It should be enough for the time being."
Another elder urged: "That matter should not be delayed, little friend, we should quickly plant trees."
An Qingli took a piece of the best spiritual essence and put it on the ground, sat down cross-legged, held the spiritual essence with one hand and the tree trunk with the other, and started to run the rejuvenation formula.