Ordinarily, if you hang a portrait of a person in your room, it must be your closest relative... Although Zhuang Jing covered it with another painting, it seemed to mean that he loved deeply. Zhuang Jing looked at it intently.
Looking into Yao Guangxiao's eyes, what shines out of them is the light of hatred...
After a long time, I heard him say in a low voice: "It's been twelve years, it's time for us to understand..." Then he withdrew his gaze and looked at the almanac hanging on the wall on the other side.
Jinling has been the center of Jiangnan since ancient times. Ever since Zhu Yuanzhang established Jinling as his capital and moved hundreds of thousands of wealthy households from Jiangsu and Zhejiang to live in Beijing, the city's prosperity has been pushed to a level comparable to Lin'an and Kaifeng in the Song Dynasty, and far surpassed Chang'an and Luoyang in the Han and Tang Dynasties.
.
No matter what day it is, there is always a flow of people in the capital. In the streets all over the city, pedestrians are crowded with each other, and the shop signs are like a forest. If you take a closer look, you can see the cloth shop Fadui, Huiyong and Cloth Shop.
,,'Net towel Fa Ke,'Old shoes and boots store,'Bow and arrow helmet tassel, Pinguan belt,Famous tea Fa Ke,'Fa Dui Guan Yan,'Zaozhuang,,'Ancient and modern calligraphy and painting,,'
There are 360 lines of signs such as Yangzhai geography, hall, etc., everything you need.
It's just that in the past, there was a wealth of treasures and a peaceful atmosphere where the people were happy, but now it has become a little weird... Although the shops are still open, the business is still going on, and the people are still doing what they should do, but regardless of the merchants, the people, or the police officers,
There was a look of nervousness and worry on their faces. Apart from simple greetings and business transactions, they did not dare to make small talk when meeting people. It really meant that 'the road follows the eye'.
This is because since Zhenren Xu was kidnapped, the capital has entered a state of martial law. As long as the government suspects that you are acting suspiciously, they can arrest you directly. Later, Zhenren Xu returned safely, and the people thought that they could finally be relieved. Unexpectedly, the martial law was not lifted.
, on the contrary, there is a trend of becoming more and more strict. In the past, those who acted suspiciously would suffer disaster, but now, those who speak suspiciously will also suffer disaster...
Seeing that the people around him didn't know what they said, they were immediately taken away by the officials and were never released. The common people were all silent. They only dared to eat, sleep, and do things honestly, and no longer dared to talk about what was happening in the capital.
Big changes, what big changes are going to happen
As a result, Jinling, the capital of the Ming Dynasty, has really become a picture of the Qingming Riverside Scenic Spot, but no sound is heard. It is like this noodle jar with many diners sitting there. In the past, there must be a lot of people and talkative people talking loudly.
Everyone either agreed, supported or objected, or listened to the excitement while eating. Now everyone was minding their own business with their heads down and eating noodles. Even when they spoke, they kept their voices down as hard as possible, trying not to let the third person hear.
arrive.
At this time, a fortune teller walking down the street walked in. Everyone just looked up at him, then lowered their heads and ate their noodles and ignored him. The fortune teller picked up an empty table in the corner and sat down, ordering a pot of tea and a bowl of tea.
Pickled cabbage noodles and a plate of cold dishes, I closed my eyes and rested there. After a while, someone came over. The fortune teller seemed to think it was the store serving food. When he opened his eyes and was about to speak, he saw a man wearing a bamboo hat and walking on the steps.
The little monk in mango shoes.
"Amitabha, donor, can you please sit down?" the young monk said softly.
The fortune teller looked at him, paused, and nodded reluctantly, as if we didn't know each other very well.
The young monk didn't care. He took off his bamboo hat and sat down next to him. He only ordered a cup of tea and a bowl of plain noodles from the shop, and then sat there staring at the tea cup in a daze. When the noodles came, they both picked up their chopsticks and started eating slowly.
Eat noodles.
From a distance, it seems that the two of them are eating their own food and have nothing to do with each other. But if you get close to the two of them, you will find that their lips are moving. In addition to eating noodles, they are also talking in inaudible voices.
talk……
"Someone came to the temple." The young monk said softly, "It seems to be that Wang Xian."
"Are you sure?" The fortune teller couldn't restrain his excitement. He accidentally shook his hand and splashed the noodle soup on his clothes. The store owner hurried over to help him clean it up, but the fortune teller frowned and waved his hand. The store owner was surprised by this.
The terrifying aura revealed by Rong Ou immediately scared her into pieces.
His eyes swept over the stall and saw that the diners were all lowering their heads to eat noodles. No one noticed his gaffe, so the fortune teller stopped caring about them, turned to the young monk, and whispered: "This matter is of great importance and there is no room for error.
"
"It should be right," the young monk whispered: "That man came to the temple on the Mid-Autumn Festival. I have met him twice before. I am very familiar with him, and I am very familiar with him. I call him Peidi.
By the way, when he came that day, it happened to be breakfast time, and it was the meal he brought to the old monk."
"Well." The fortune teller pondered for a moment and said: "This can only mean that this person must be related to the old monk, but the old monk has many disciples..." As he spoke, his eyes became blurry for a moment and he said: "There are also many who have returned to secular life.
.”
"Oh, there is another piece of evidence. The young Mongolian monk Yi Nian in the temple had a fight with him when he saw him, but when he turned around he saved Yi Nian from the Discipline Hall." The young monk said softly: "Yes.
I don’t know what method he used. As soon as he came out of the Discipline Hall, he changed his gender. Not only did he start calling him master, but he also moved into his room, ate and lived with him, and helped him run errands and do odd jobs..."
Where the young monk was, he was detailing everything, and the fortune teller had already determined that the person in Qingshou Temple was Wang Xian, because he knew that the monk was the grandson of Mahamu whom Wang Xian brought back from Mobei.
, the two have a master-disciple relationship
"Then the old monk let him stay?" The fortune teller asked nervously: "What agreement did they reach?"
"I don't know about that. Monk Xinyan is too scary. Anyone who dares to inquire about the old monk will be beaten to death." The young monk shook his head and said: "I only know that after he met the old monk, he
Was ordained as a monk..."
"Pfft..." The fortune teller spat out a mouthful of water and his eyes widened. He never expected that Wang Xian would become a monk... Thinking of the domineering young man who had his head of black hair shaved off,
He turned into a little bald donkey like the monk in front of him. After the fortune teller was so surprised, he almost burst into laughter.
"Also...the old monk asked him to practice silent meditation." The young monk whispered: "He said that as long as he said a word, he would be cut off from the relationship and driven out of the temple."
"Ah ha." The fortune teller was relieved and said with a smile: "That's right. I wonder how the old monk changed his gender." He knew both Wang Xian and Dao Yan very well, and guessed that the former should be shameless.
He wanted to stay, but because of his status as a master and disciple, the latter could not just kick him out, so he wanted to scare him away by asking him to be shaved first before he could stay. This trick is very cruel, because the so-called "body"
The hair and skin of the parents were not damaged at all, but Wang Xian was even more ruthless and actually shaved off... He just thought that this would make the old monk helpless. He was too stupid and naive. The old monk just did it casually.
By keeping silent, he turned him into a mute. He was not allowed to talk nonsense to him anymore, nor was he allowed to persuade others under his own banner.
"Did he meet Gu Xingzu?" the fortune teller asked in a low voice.
"I've seen it before." The young monk nodded and said, "The one who came with Gu Xingzu that day was Zhang Hu, the younger brother of the British Duke."
"Who else has he seen?" asked the fortune teller.
"I only saw him once, the second day after he arrived," the young monk whispered, "but I was chopping firewood in the back and didn't see him. I just listened to Xinci and Xinyan scolding him at night.
He kicked him out when he said goodbye, only to find out that he met someone during the day." He sighed and said, "The monks in the temple are very vigilant, and I don't dare to inquire..."
"Yeah." The fortune teller didn't care about this. There were not three or five pilgrims in Qingshou Temple a day. He just needed to check who entered Qingshou Temple that day. "Then Beizhen Fusi is very powerful.
To avoid alerting others, don’t act rashly when you go back. As long as that person doesn’t leave Qingshou Temple, don’t come out again.”
"Yes." The little monk nodded.
"You eat slowly, I'll leave first." The fortune teller took out a few copper coins, threw them on the table, picked up the iron mouth, cut them off, and left in a pretense.
Not to mention that the young monk continued to eat noodles, but the fortune teller left the noodle stall and walked around the streets to solicit business. Unfortunately, most people were unwilling to do anything at this time, and the business would be light, and the fortune teller would turn around.
No one paid attention to me as I walked around, and finally even I disappeared...
The fortune teller entered an unobtrusive courtyard. As soon as he entered the door, a gleaming sword was placed around his neck.
The fortune teller obviously knew what kind of treatment he would receive. He didn't panic at all. He just sneered and said: "Is this how you treat guests?"
"Huh!" The owner of the sword was a tall young man in his twenties, with a leopard head and ringed eyes. He said with hatred on his face: "Dog thief, you are worthy of being called a guest."
"Successor, don't be rude." A middle-aged man who looked similar to the young man but was more dignified and steady scolded: "Why don't you apologize to Mr. Zhuang quickly?"
"Third uncle, I don't." The young man named Ji Zong raised his head stubbornly. "This beast..."
"Bastard!" Everyone didn't see the middle-aged man move, and their eyes were blurred. Ji Zong received a heavy kick from him in the chest, flew out, and hit the wall hard. Dust flew up and fell to the ground.
He had already fainted.
"Aiya, General Chang, why is this necessary?" The fortune teller was naturally Mr. Zhuang Jingzhuang, but now he was pretending to be a good person, "Young people are ignorant, just talk about it, there is no need to bet on such a heavy bet.
hand."
"That's not true. Our master's life depends on you, sir. I'm really sorry for the lax discipline if you don't have any chance of conflict." After saying that, he actually bowed deeply to the other party.
Zhuang Jing hurriedly avoided it, saying he didn't dare.