Chapter 01 Is it too late to recite the Taoist scriptures after death?
Zhang Kedao couldn't hold himself any longer and was panicking inside.
Looking around, the wind is like mist and sand, the scenery is dark and intertwined, the miserable whimpering sounds are coming from nowhere, and the mixed symphonic background music seems to come with it, forming a realistic underworld painting that is scary to the core.
wind.
As a modern preacher, he has always been very courageous. In the early years, he accompanied his grandfather when he went out to perform religious services.
Going in and out of graveyards, cemeteries, mourning halls, and funeral parlors was a common occurrence. He was used to seeing other people's families cry and cry when they were old, sick, and dying, or the bustling scene of earth-flavored singing in front of the mourning hall. He had already seen through the dead and thought that was all.
After it was his turn to die, he suddenly woke up from his confusion and realized that he was really panicked in the underworld.
This was the first time he died, and all the experiences he had accumulated in the human world were bullshit.
He doesn't know what to do?
There is no omnipotent keyboard warrior who can turn to a mobile phone for help.
The shadows in front of me and behind me are the ghosts of freshly dead souls who have gone to the underworld and are walking on the road to report. There are so many dead ghosts in front and behind.
With the vague shadows and outlines, you can barely distinguish men, women, children, and various animals, birds, and insects. The shadows are of different shades, and their movements are stiff and dull. They are straight and slowly floating forward like marionettes, which is always stimulating.
The harsh reality of his death.
The gray mist and biting cold linger, creating an extremely unfriendly atmosphere.
The gaps exposed by the thick dark clouds in the sky emitted pale and dim light.
Zhang Kedao was held hostage in the queue and couldn't help but move forward.
Next to the dark underworld, there is a large river that flows silently, occasionally with dark red waves, and you can't see the other side.
From time to time, there are mutilated ghosts floating on the river, twisting their bodies in pain, reaching out to grab the air, letting out a sad and low cry of "ah wu wu", and then being dragged into the water by countless twisted ghost claws emerging from the river, with dark red bulges.
The bubbles disappeared, making this place even more unlike the human world.
Zhang Kedao, who was panicking, suddenly discovered that he was different from other ghosts.
His figure is relatively clear, his limbs, torso, and head are not a blur. He can look around, forming a clear contrast with other ghosts who are numb, stiff, thin, and somewhat transparent. He still has thoughts, and the others are dead things.
This discovery gave him a sense of hope for survival, and he tried to make a sound.
Without a mouth, he is in a "soul" state and cannot speak, but being able to think gives him the opportunity.
Zhang Kedao seeks comfort by reciting silently: "The pure heart is like water, and pure water is the heart. There is no breeze, and the waves are calm. Sitting alone in the secluded bamboo, whistling and playing the piano... Treat the root cause with freshness, seek a life in a straight way, be perfect in nature, and the road is perfect!"
He didn't know if chanting sutras in the underworld would have any effect, so he was just holding on to the Buddha's feet, oh no, hugging the Taoist ancestor's lap.
Repeating this three times, the familiar mantra calmed him down from his instinctive panic.
Chanting sutras actually works!
After careful observation for a while, Zhang Kedao did not see the ghosts maintaining order. He was floating and saw a faint covered bridge appearing across the river in the mist. The advancing team seemed to be turning toward the bridge. He was suddenly startled.
That should be the famous Naihe Bridge.
Can't cross the bridge!
However, there must be Meng Po on the bridge. After drinking Meng Po soup, it is unknown whether she can be a human being again.
Although he was a modern Taoist priest in the past, deep down in his heart, he had not fully believed in the idealist theories of merit, retribution, and cause and effect that had been passed down for thousands of years, and had only half-believers and doubts.
I have no confidence in how much merit I can accumulate in exchange for the opportunity to start a new life.
Wouldn't it be too miserable and terrifying to be punished as an animal with no right to decide one's fate for the rest of his life?
After thinking about it, he carefully floated out. The gray mist that shrouded the queue had a suction force. He silently recited the inner secret and easily broke away. He floated out of the sparse queue where the ghosts were walking. He did not dare to go too far, and cautiously stayed away from the gray mist.
He walked outside, worried that if he was caught by a ghost, he would not be able to eat anything good, so he could float back to the queue at any time.
He quietly walked back and recited the basic Taoist classic "Qingxin Jue" repeatedly and silently, which he could recite fluently.
I feel that my figure is more solid and not so cold.
I don't know if it was a psychological effect or it was really useful, but it gave him just a little bit of confidence to find a way out and return to the world.
After walking backward for about a quarter of an hour, Zhang Kedao came to a standing black shabby pavilion and saw two black figures sitting cross-legged on the ground of the transparent pavilion without fences. Zhang Kedao hurriedly drifted into the queue filled with gray mist.
The black shadow sat motionless in the pavilion, showing no reaction to his strange situation, and he did not dare to approach rashly.
After thinking for a moment, he passed through the queue and floated to the other side, continuing to go upstream in the opposite direction.
With the help of the queue and the cover of gray fog, he avoided the two black shadows under the pavilion. After leaving the pavilion for about fifty meters, Zhang Kedao breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know the identity of the two separate shadows. They didn't feel like ghost soldiers.
Those two figures were loose and fuzzy, with outlines of limbs and torsos. They were slightly inferior to him. Maybe they were also ghosts?
Suddenly, I heard a strange "dah-dah" sound, flying from a distance.
The rhythm was fast and urgent, drowning out the plaintive howling coming from the river.
"Phew", a majestic yellow-feathered rooster, taller than a man, rushed towards Naihe Bridge with a strong wind.
Zhang Kedao floated into the gray fog queue one step ahead to avoid being affected by the powerful collision of the big rooster.
He is currently in a state of soul and may not be able to withstand being trampled by sandbags and chicken paws.
He looked at the disappearing shadows and recalled a ghost story his grandfather once told him. He suddenly understood that it was a man with advanced Taoism who used the golden rooster to guide the souls back to the underworld on the road to the underworld.
Unexpectedly, one day after his death, he would be able to witness the legend come true in the land of the underworld.
It would be a lie to say that I am not envious and jealous.
Zhang Kedao secretly sighed that his life was not so good.
His grandfather, a Taoist priest, died three years ago, and no one could help him summon his soul. Of course, even if his grandfather were alive, he would not be able to perform the miraculous Taoist technique of returning Yang.
After passing through the gray fog queue and coming to the side near the river again, Zhang Kedao continued to drive in the opposite direction cautiously to avoid being brutally trampled by the speeding rooster on its way back.
"How dare you go to Hades to cause trouble."
A dull and strange shout came from very far away, which made Zhang Kedao's liver tremble with fright, and he hurriedly drifted into the mist.
Then he saw a yellow light streaking across the gray sky, coming from afar and arriving in the blink of an eye.
"Bang", the arrogant yellow-feathered big rooster grabbed the ground with its head and fell hard in front of the dilapidated pavilion. The rooster's tail, which was originally higher than the rooster's comb, was neatly cut off by a white light, and the chicken feathers exploded and scattered.
Dots of black and white brilliance disappeared into the stirred up dust and mist.
Two black figures in the pavilion took the opportunity to float up and pounce on the stubborn rooster, which rolled twice and then stood up.
Hidden in the gaps between the left and right wings of the big bald-tailed rooster was a small black shadow shrunk into a small ball, staggering forward with a heavy load. Zhang Kedao was stunned when he saw it, and then he was greatly inspired.
He would give it a try no matter what, he would jump on the rooster to get the light and break out of the underworld to return the sun.
Otherwise, with him wandering around like a headless fly, the chances are too slim.
The underworld is dangerous, and he doesn't know the way back.
He hasn't lived long enough to think he can save himself.