Chapter 390 Compassionate monk father is obsessed with obsession 9
Chapter 390 The Compassionate Monk Dad is Obsessed 9
After the fire, the temple was closed for repairs.
There was no major damage, except that the whole temple was in chaos.
It would take two or three days to repair the chaos caused by the fire. But... the abbot looked at the temple and realized that such a phenomenon had not happened for a long time.
The previous abbot told him that fires were common in Foxin Temple.
It was not because of an accidental fire, but because someone wanted to create chaos and fish in troubled waters.
"Master, I know who it is." Mu Shen stared at the towering tree in the temple.
The abbot turned to look at Mu Shen.
Mu Shen is only up to his chest now. He is half a child, but he is already responsible.
"The bear spirit and goat spirit are you talking about?"
"Yes. I saw them yesterday and chased them to the back mountain. I looked for them again but there was no trace. I suspect that there are more than just the two of them."
If they were spirits, he would have already ruled them out, leaving only those two people. If there were any more suspects, only humans would be left.
The abbot was silent, looking up at the big tree at the Sutra Pavilion, "Has Fuchen Donor woke up?"
Mu Shen shook his head. He looked at the big tree with worry and guilt in his eyes.
In order to save the scriptures, he used fire to burn Fuchen's vines, which would delay Fuchen's sleep and cultivation.
"Plants and trees can sense threats better than people, and can avoid threats better. Dormancy is common in nature to adjust the body. The floating dust donor is probably forced to dormant and grow under extreme conditions." The abbot explained.
Looking at the lush vines, "It's okay. Take good care of it. It has grown so big so fast that it's hard for her."
The wood god remained silent.
"But sad?" the abbot asked Mu Shen.
Mu Shen shook his head, "It's guilt. Guilt left her here. Guilt burned her with fire to protect the scriptures."
Subconsciously, Mu Shen thought that Fu Chen would not be hurt and that the scriptures were important. Without even thinking about it, he roasted it with fire... He was very selfish.
"Everyone in the world has a destiny. This is her destiny, and it is also her opportunity. Wait for her to cultivate herself well and her cultivation will be radical. During this period, you should take good care of her." The abbot said. "I am also here to practice self-examination."
"What is she?" Mu Shen asked.
The abbot touched his goat's beard and said, "I don't know either."
After the abbot left, the wood god went down the mountain to fetch water for Fuchen.
No matter what it is, plants and trees cannot grow without water, soil, and sunlight.
The Sutra Pavilion has been pushed five feet high (approximately 1.6 meters) by the dust, and what is left is water and sunlight.
The abbot deliberately refused to talk about the thief who broke into the temple, and neither did the god of wood. Everyone regarded it as a natural fire, and paid more attention to fire prevention in the hot summer.
During the great summer season, there was a drought for many days, and the stream at the foot of the mountain stopped flowing, so we had to go further upstream to fetch water.
The leaves of dusty vines often shrink.
Mu Shen could only fetch water every day and did not hesitate to use his spiritual power.
This care lasts for three years.
For three years, it is necessary to carry more water every year during the hot summer and to reduce branches and leaves in winter to keep out the cold.
In the past three years, the vines pinched people twice, once by the bear spirit and once by a wild monk. He also encountered more than a dozen assassinations and narrowly escaped.
What he saw was that the vines had pinched someone. The abbot took the people away immediately, and he was also prohibited from telling anyone about the incident.
It is impossible not to doubt.
Mu Shen asked, but all he got were sighs. He thought of the legendary "Buddha's Heart Relic" that Fuchen had said.
Fuchen's bragging made everyone suspect that the Buddha's heart relic had appeared. The best explanation was that it was hidden on his body or in the Sutra Pavilion.
Only this can explain all the abnormalities.
It's another snowy day.
Heavy snow closed the mountains and activities in the temple were reduced to a minimum.
The wood god stepped on the branches and looked at the great rivers and mountains covered in silver. His mind was on the distance, and he didn't expect his body to lose weight——
"Ouch", a cry came out.
Mu Shen fell into the pit and was stunned when he heard a familiar shout...
Mu Shen slowly looked at the grass under his feet and the big pit under his feet, and slowly placed the bookshelf in the air on the open space.
"Ouch" was Xiaocao's cry, but he fell into the pit. At the first moment, he used magic to protect the scriptures, but the pit under his feet... was eleven to twenty feet deep (about 35 meters).
"It hurts me so much, little monk, you stepped on me. Oh, why is there such a big hole?" Fuchen supported his waist with a leaf.
Mu Shen smiled. It's common for people to have abnormal brains.
"Donor of the Floating Dust, do you know what mistake you have made?" the little monk said with a smile. He was in a good mood and decided to tease this little monster who had a bad mind and had been sleeping for three years.
"Did I make a mistake?" Fuchen got angry and jumped on the young monk's shoulder to reason, "What mistake did I make? Did you accidentally step on me?"
"It's this hole in the ground. The donor destroyed the ground." It was obvious that only two feet of soil was pushed out, but when it turned into grass, there was a hole of more than ten feet. The little monk suspected that she had eaten dirt. There was no guilt, the little monk was serious about fooling her.
Floating dust.
"Hey, you're a little monk, you can tell lies and bully others. Take a good look, does my figure match that pit?" Fuchen laughed angrily. He jumped into the pit and jumped repeatedly to emphasize the fact.
"Donor, you are not grass, so don't always treat yourself like grass."
"I'm not a fool, are you?" Fuchen shouted.
Mu Shen smiled and said nothing. He stopped teasing her.
Such vibrant dust has not been seen for a long time.
The original towering vines have disappeared, and construction of the library should begin. Unfortunately, the soil used by the vines has loosened, and the ground piles have to be driven extremely deep, which is not cost-effective.
Several church leaders and the abbot decided to push the library back and plant trees in the original place.
After a few days of recovery, Fuchen finally regained his brain. He went to Mu Shen immediately and said, "Monk, monk, I heard a story, do you want to listen to it?"
"What?"
"Do you know how old you are?"
"Twelve." The monk replied casually. As soon as Fuchen finished speaking, he didn't pay attention.
"No." Fuchen shook his head and held out three fingers, "You are at least this old."
"Of course the poor monk is more than three years old." The monk laughed.
"No." Fuchen didn't have enough brains. He wanted to scare the little monk. But after waiting for a while, the monk ignored him. Fuchen directly exposed the details and announced the answer, "You are at least three hundred years old!"
"What about the donor? Thirty thousand years old?" The little monk would not be fooled by the little monster.
"Why don't you believe it?" Fuchen frowned, "I heard it with my own ears. It's true."
"Who did you listen to?" the young monk asked, still looking at the book.
"Too many, those trees in the back mountain. They all said that you fell asleep on the dragon ball in Xiunv Mountain three hundred years ago." Fuchen looked serious.
The monk turned his head and looked at the grass that was retracted to a finger's length, and said seriously, "Donor, if you have nothing to do, don't read the little book, and don't dream."
"Hey, you bald donkey, believe it or not." Fuchen was so angry that he jumped down and ran to find a fight in the pine tree.
But Songshu was intimidated when he saw her, and she was beaten without fighting back. Fuchen found it boring and ran to find Bodhi again.
"Bodhi, Bodhi, ask me to tell Bodhisattva to help me beat up the little monk, oh, and the big monk (abbot, presiding)." Fuchen made a wish.
Bodhi did not move.
A young monk appeared from behind.
"Donor, why did this poor monk offend you? Do you want the Bodhisattva to give me a beating?" The young monk smiled.
"Well..." When faced with an embarrassing situation, Fuchen stayed calm despite the danger, "Because you angered God. I just told you on your behalf. No need to thank me, after all, I am the son of God."
The little monk laughed and grabbed the grass, "Son of Heaven, would you like to listen to the poor monk reciting sutras?" Before Fuchen could say anything, "I guess Son of Heaven doesn't mind. After all, it is the poor monk who gave me wisdom."
Damn it. Fuchen cursed secretly, is this little bald donkey already so shameless?
Listening to the sutras was easy, and it would be done after a short sleep; but after listening to and writing the sutras over and over again, Fuchen felt like he was going to die.
"Bald Donkey, do you think I can write? I know the characters in "The Monkey King" even if I am exhausted, how can I write?"
"Write." The little monk just said one word and concentrated on reading.
Fuchen rolled his eyes, but he also understood: when the young monk is unmoved, that is when he speaks the least. This time means that whatever you say or do is nonsense, he will not pay attention to it.
"Why should I write scriptures?" Fuchen didn't understand. He looked at the text that was more complicated than the texture of his own leaves and was puzzled.
The little monk blinked his eyes and confused the stupid little monster, "There is something wrong with your body and I need to pray for you."
"Oh." Fuchen really believed it and said, "Young monk, you are so kind."
Fuchen grabbed the brush and carefully drew the talismans according to the scriptures. After waiting for a long time, he asked, "Why are you reciting the scriptures like crazy?"
"Pray for the poor monk himself." The monk said seriously,
For a moment, Fuchen seemed to realize the meaning of the young monk's words, but he couldn't grasp the idea, so he could only give up and continue copying the scriptures.
The young monk stared at the words in the scripture and copied them carefully. He lied, so he prayed for himself.
