Walking aimlessly, the spirit and body are tortured.
This night, I met an old man.
He is probably in his seventies, wearing a purple robe and wearing a golden crown.
His hair was very white, like snowflakes in winter, without a trace of black in sight.
The body is thin and the skin is loose.
Only those deep eyes flashed from time to time, extremely sharp.
He was sitting on a raised stone the size of a washbasin, holding a golden writing brush in his left hand, about the thickness of an adult's thumb and twenty centimeters long.
He held a shabby red-lined book in his right hand, reading it with gusto and concentration.
He was the first living person I saw in the boundless desert, so I was very excited and ran towards him with staggering steps.
"Old man." I squatted on the ground, panting like an ox, and tears of excitement filled my eyes.
He ignored me and focused on reading, turning the pages with the tip of his pen.
I didn't give up, so I deliberately walked up to him, stretched my neck and shouted: "You..."
"boom."
After being hit with a "stick" on his forehead, he turned the golden brush at will and asked: "The border is desert, why are you here?"
I covered my head and shook my head hard.
Yes, I don't know.
I couldn't even remember my name, so how could I know why I came to the "frontier desert" he mentioned?
He didn't ask any more questions and continued to read, occasionally smiling.
I stood aside carefully, trying to get information from him.
I asked a lot of questions, but he didn't listen.
Then, he seemed to be annoyed by me and walked away.
"Old man." I urged him to stay.
But if you look closely, you will see that the other person actually appeared thousands of meters away in just one short step.
Blink again and disappear without a trace.
As soon as the scene changed, the world filled with yellow sand disappeared.
I was standing by a lake, with goose feathers and heavy snow falling in the air.
The lake water reflects my young face, which is only seven or eight years old.
The purple-robed old man said in a soft voice: "There is a lake in China called Yaochi. The snowfish in the lake is delicious. I will stew one for you later."
"Here, do you see the mountains in front? Qingluan Mountain, Ziwei Palace."
"You are my ninth direct disciple. You have no name, no surname, no roots and no origin."
"Since I met you in the border desert, how about I name you Jiu Mo?"
Seeing that I was silent, he frowned slightly and said, "Don't you like this name?"
I shivered and said aggrievedly: "It's cold."
The old man in purple robe was thoughtful, stroking a few strokes of his goatee and said, "You are afraid of the cold and like the sun, so let's call you Jiuyang."
"One sun shines on the earth, nine suns, hahaha, can't it burn a hole in the sky?"
"Let's go, I will take you up the mountain."
He led me with a hearty laugh, climbed the white jade stairs, came to the magnificent magnificent hall, and said: "You have five senior brothers and three senior sisters. Well, I will study with the third one first. I hope you will understand the way of cultivation soon."
"
I knelt on the ground and kowtowed ignorantly: "Disciple Jiuyang, pay your respects to the master."
From that day on, I stayed in Ziwei Palace.
I am a direct disciple, the youngest in the family of the headmaster.
Senior brother Qian Chen, second senior brother Fang Nan, third senior brother Changfu, fourth senior sister Baicao, fifth senior sister Dongshuang, sixth senior brother Sun Yi, seventh senior brother Qiu Li, and eighth senior sister Ning'an.
The person who taught me how to practice Buddhism was Third Senior Brother Changfu, a greedy fat man who was ten years older than me.
He is very kind to me, has a gentle temper and is very patient.
I asked and he said.
I listen and he talks.
I deserted, and he reminded me with a smile.
I was hungry, so he took me to the kitchen to find food.
