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Chapter 111: Nothing can escape a fate

In the Qingshan Temple, heavy rain kept washing over this ancient temple deep in the mountains. The temple, which originally had some mysterious colors, now became more antique. The little monk sat in the room and watched it start to rain, holding a

Muyu ran to the master who was meditating in the yard, his face full of melancholy.

"Isn't it because you didn't get the rice money? How could the master harm himself like this?"

The little monk looked at the master in the heavy rain, held his little cheek with his hand and asked with some doubts.

Xuan Zheng was sitting in the yard, beating the wooden fish constantly, and what he was reading was the "Mahayana Ksitigarbha Ten Wheel Sutra" that he almost never glanced at on weekdays. You must know that sutra

But I only recite it when I am being saved. Could it be that someone died in Master’s family, but Master has no relatives? I don’t know what happened to Master, that he is here

He had been reciting it for three days and three nights in the heavy rain, and he still had no intention of stopping. The young monk looked at the master outside and couldn't bear it, so he ran to the master's side with an umbrella. Even though Xuan Zheng

Knowing that his disciple had come out, he still didn't move at all. He didn't even look at his disciple. He still sat in the rain and chanted sutras.

"Master, if I don't talk to the abbot like this next time, won't I lose a month's incense money? Why do you bother yourself like this?" The young monk looked at Xuan Zheng worriedly and said.

"boom!"

There was a thunder, and Xuan Zheng suddenly raised his head and looked at the sky in the distance.

After a while, the originally dark clouded sky suddenly cleared up, the thunder disappeared, the rain stopped, and there was a rainbow of light on the horizon. After seeing this scene, Xuan Zheng put down the mallet in his hand and looked at the distance.

Tian Tian smiled faintly and said softly: "I finally survived."

"Master, what are you talking about?" the young monk looked at Xuan Zheng and asked with some confusion.

"nothing."

"Then I clearly heard what you said. Who did you say survived? Who did you say survived?" the little monk then asked.

"No one."

"Master, you are hiding something from me." The young monk was a little unhappy and shouted with his lips curled up.

"Can you memorize scriptures?" Xuan Zheng asked.

"Not yet."

"Have you practiced martial arts?" Xuan Zheng asked again.

"not yet."

"Then go quickly." Xuan Zheng turned around and glanced at the young monk lightly, then shook the rain off his body and ran towards the house.

The little monk looked at the water droplets on his master's head and couldn't help but smile. The weather was fine, and the little monk planned to go play in the mountains. After all, the mountains after the rain are the most beautiful in the empty mountains.

, all the flowers, birds and animals in the mountains will come out after the rain. The little monk loves to play with those little animals.

The animals were playing together. No matter what, the little monk felt that these little animals were more interesting than his master who always kept a straight face. The little monk stood in the yard for a while, and just took steps to run up the mountain.

He heard his master shouting from inside the house: "What are you doing?"

The little monk's right leg that had just taken a step was hanging in the air. He smiled awkwardly and turned back but did not reply.

"Have you been asked to practice martial arts today?"

The young monk knew that the master would definitely ask this question.

"I haven't practiced yet."

The little monk slowly put down his right leg and ran toward the wooden man with a depressed face.

The little monk looked at the wooden man who had been soaked by the rain, curled his mouth helplessly, and then began to hit the wooden man's head one after another. At first, the little monk was lazy and casual, but when he heard himself

After the footsteps of the master, he quickly adjusted his posture, and every punch was quite satisfactory. Xuan Zheng looked at his apprentice's punching posture and shook his head with some disappointment.

"Master, what's the point of asking me to beat this wooden man every day?" The young monk looked back at Xuan Zheng and asked.

"Practice with no distractions." Xuan Zheng replied calmly while sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard.

"But, the senior brothers in those temples have already started practicing their own kung fu, and I am still beating this stupid idiot here, and now the senior brothers are laughing at me." The young monk replied with a smile.

Xuan Zheng glanced at the young monk but did not reply.

"Master, do you think it's useful for me to face a wooden man every day?" the young monk asked.

"Yes." Xuan Zheng replied.

"What's the use of that?" the little monk asked.

"Do you think it's useful to chant sutras every day?" Xuan Zheng asked.

"It's useless. I think the things in the scriptures are too difficult to understand. I can't read them. If I ask, the abbot will tell me." When the young monk mentioned the scriptures, his face was full of helplessness.

"The scriptures are profound, but you think they are useless. This wooden person is simple, but you still think they are useless. So what do you think is useful?" Xuan Zheng asked.

"Master, are you saying I'm stupid?" the young monk asked.

"Yeah." Xuan Zheng nodded.

"..." The young monk looked back at Xuan Zheng, a little speechless.

"Don't stop." Xuan Zheng scolded sternly.

When the little monk heard this, he quickly turned around and punched the wooden man who had been beaten countless times. But after a few punches, the little monk looked back at Xuan Zheng again and asked: "Master, what do you mean?

Am I stupid?"

"Stupid." Xuan Zheng nodded.

"Really stupid?" the little monk asked again.

"Really stupid."

"Hey." The little monk sighed helplessly, and then continued to exert his strength on the wooden man, and did not continue to ask any more questions.

After beating the wooden man for an hour, the young monk suddenly looked back at Xuan Zheng and asked: "Master, the Lord Buddha said that everything in the world has emotions, and everything in the world has feelings. Do you think I will hit the wooden man?

Does it hurt?"

"Did you see him cry?" Xuan Zheng asked.

"No." The young monk shook his head.

"That means it doesn't hurt."

"But not all pain will make you cry? Just like when the master hits me, don't I cry too?" the little monk asked.

"Then did you hear him shout?" Xuan Zheng asked again.

"No." The young monk shook his head.

"That means it doesn't hurt." Xuan Zheng replied.

"But there are thousands of emotions in people's hearts. Not all emotions can be expressed?" The young monk still didn't understand.

"Then it hurts, right?" Xuan Zheng replied.

"Since it hurts, why should I hit him? Shouldn't monks be compassionate?" the young monk asked.

"Well, let's fight for one more hour." Xuan Zheng nodded.

"Why does he still want to hit him even though he knows it hurts?" the young monk asked.

"When he was made into a stake, he was destined to be beaten. Regardless of whether he knew it hurt or not, he should be beaten. Otherwise, he would lose his value."

"Fate?" The little monk was stunned for a moment.

"Um."

"What is fate?" the young monk asked.

"If he gets beaten, you beat him, that's his fate." Xuan Zheng replied.

"Just like the master can't meditate through the "Great Enlightenment of the Heavenly Guide", this is also fate, right?" the young monk asked.

"Fight for one more hour."


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