That ancient temple located halfway up the mountain is not as profound of Buddha nature as everyone imagined.
After two hundred years, the red paint wall has faded a little, and there are many cracks on it. The steps are even covered with moss, and it seems that no one has cleaned it for a long time.
Even the plaque that says 'Wuchen Temple' looks a bit worn.
Ci Sheng and Ci Nan led the way, leading them up the hundred steps of stairs toward the temple gate. Halfway there, they stopped.
Lin Huang paused and looked up ahead.
I saw a monk in white at the entrance of the temple, slowly sweeping the steps. His movements seemed a little clumsy, but he was sweeping very seriously.
The appearance of the monk in white was somewhere between middle-aged and old. His face was slightly wrinkled, but he was no less handsome. There was gentleness and softness between his brows, but he was not kind-hearted.
After Ci Nan and Ci Sheng were a little confused, they recited Amitabha Buddha twice to the monk in white, and then walked straight towards the mountain gate.
However, Lin Huang stopped.
A pair of eyes fell firmly on the white-robed monk, and he said with a smile: "I have only been in Wuzen Temple for a few days, and I still don't know how to talk about Amitabha!"
The monk in white robes suddenly paused in his movements, and when he waved his snow-white robes, there was no hint of Buddha nature at all. Instead, he revealed the character of Confucianism.
"How do you call this benefactor, poor monk Xuan Miao!"
The monk in white clasped his hands together and said, his movements seemed a bit jerky.
"I wonder what the Master is thinking when his hands holding a pen are turning the rosary beads?"
Lin Huang looked at the hands of the monk in white and smiled calmly.
"With both hands holding the pen, you should establish your destiny for the living people, and establish your mind for the heaven and earth. To carry forward the unique teachings of the past saints, and to create peace for all generations! When entering Buddhism, you should first save yourself, then save others, and then save the world!"
The monk in white said with piercing eyes.
"Since Master is so eloquent, I have a request. I wonder if Master can lend a helping hand?"
Lin Huang said with a smile.
The monk in white gave a calm smile, his smile was like a spring breeze and made people very friendly. "Please also ask the donor to give me instructions. As long as the poor monk can do it, he will never refuse!"
The smile on Lin Huang's face became brighter and brighter. After coughing twice, he continued:
"Please master, please write an essay to criticize the thieves for my thirteen kills!"
As soon as Lin Huang finished speaking, the expression of the monk in white changed drastically. His previous indifference and confidence turned into panic. He dropped the broom in his hand and walked towards the mountain gate.
"The great scholar Cao Mingsheng!"
Outside Wuchan Temple, Lin Huang looked at the figure in white escaping in a hurry and scolded him suddenly.
In front of the temple gate, the white-robed monk paused, then turned around, brushed off the dust on his body, and said calmly: "The donor is really persistent. In order to kill the poor monk, he actually chased him to the Wuchan Temple!"
Lin Huang climbed up the steps and Zhongzheng said calmly: "You can't escape to the ends of the world. If you really deserve the title of Great Confucian, who dares to kill you?!"
"It's a pity that the poor monk has now entered Wuchan Temple. Does the donor want to start a killing spree in Buddhism?"
The monk in white smiled, but the alertness on his face did not diminish at all.
Although he is the great scholar Cao Mingsheng, he is now alone. Although he once had the realm of Wuhou, the four people in front of him are not simple.
Moreover, just a few days ago when he cut off three thousand trouble threads, all his realm was wasted.
"Master is so good at arguing, please tell me why I can't kill like this again!"
Lin Huang asked with a smile.
The white-clothed monk's expression froze, and then he raised his eyebrows and said: "Because this important place of Buddhism is not stained by the world, not stained by the secular world, not stained by blood, and not stained by cause and effect. If you want to kill me, you have to wait until the poor monk steps down from this innocent place one day.
Zen Mountain!”
"oh……"
Lin Huang raised his eyebrows and smiled, "So, I can't kill the master?"
"Can't kill!"
The white-robed monk Cao Mingsheng held up the flowers and smiled, with a hint of pride on his lips.
"Then I wonder if I can beat the master in this temple?"
"What happens if the master breaks the precepts?"
"Master accidentally rolled down the mountain, so what?"
Lin Huang asked three questions in a row, which made Cao Mingsheng's elegant face look very ugly, and he even looked at Lin Huang with some fear.
"Little Fatty..."
Lin Huang shouted with a smile.
As soon as he finished speaking, Little Fatty Bai laughed, took out a chicken drumstick and stuffed it into Cao Mingsheng's mouth, then grabbed Cao Mingsheng and threw him into the void.
Lin Huang immediately flew up and beheaded towards Cao Mingsheng.
Since killing is not allowed in Buddhism, can Cao Mingsheng be killed by throwing him out of the scope of Wuchan Temple?
"Two junior uncles, save me!"
In the void, Cao Mingsheng, who was flying upside down, looked at Cisheng and Cinan who had entered the temple gate, and shouted. His eyes were full of horror. If he had known this, he would never have gone to Wuchan Temple, no matter what he said.
Cut off three thousand worries.
In the end, the person who was killed by Renzi Thirteen came here.
In the temple gate, Ci Sheng and Ci Nan paused, with expressions of struggle on their faces. Then Ci Sheng turned around, stepped out of the temple gate, and headed towards the forest wasteland.
A groan.
Jun Qingcheng's long sword was unsheathed, blocking Ci Sheng's path.
"Amitabha……"
Cisheng looked at the girl in red in front of him, with a look of unbearable expression on his face, but he finally closed his eyes. The Buddha's light was surrounding him, blooming with an endless and vast aura, trying to imprison Jun Qingcheng.
At this moment, a melodious bell rang loudly in Wuchan Temple, causing everyone present to pause.
After the bell rang, everyone suddenly heard an old voice, which came from the depths of Wuchan Temple and filled the whole world:
"I am a poor monk with no Zen. I am fortunate to meet the benefactor of Linhuang. Please tell me about it like a temple!"
Listening to the old voice in the void, everyone present was stunned. Unexpectedly, it was Ye Wuchan who spoke. Judging from his intention, it seemed that he wanted to save Cao Mingsheng.
Cao Mingsheng, who was thrown down the mountain by Little Fatty Bai, looked happy. Since Ye Wuchan spoke, his life was saved.
Outside the temple gate, Lin Huang raised his eyebrows, laughed and rushed towards the foot of the mountain:
"Wan Sheng, Lin Huang, pays homage to Senior Ye Wuchan. I came here today, but I forgot to give a small gift, and I feel very ashamed. I heard that Senior Ye was an unparalleled genius two hundred years ago, and I hate evil as much as hatred. Today, Wan Sheng will kill this evil beast first to respect Wu Chan.
Zen-senpai!"
Lin Huang's voice was like rolling thunder, pouring into Wuchan Temple. But as he finished speaking, he rushed down Wuchan Mountain. Looking at the delighted Cao Mingsheng in front of him, he waved his hand with a knife.
A thud.
Cao Mingsheng's head rolled down outside the boundary monument of Wuchan Temple, and the blood spewed out dyed the snow-white monk's clothes red.
Then Lin Huang grabbed Cao Mingsheng's head and asked the old monk from Wuchan Temple:
"I don't know how to call my senior, whether I should call him Senior Ye Wuchan or Master Wuchan. If he is Master Wuchan, I will leave here. Don't let the smell of blood contaminate the peace and tranquility of Buddhism!"
There was silence in the void for a long time.
Ci Sheng and Ci Nan both turned their heads and looked into the depths of Wu Zen Temple. The forest wasteland at the foot of the mountain was not in a hurry, neither leaving nor stepping into Wu Zen Temple.
It was not until half a quarter of an hour later that a decaying voice could be heard from the back hill of Wuchan Temple: