Qu Feng told him about his life story from as long as he could remember, and he knew that he was an orphan whose parents died tragically in the woods on the mountain behind the monastery on a night of thunder and lightning. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info he lived in the monastery with his master, became a monk, coarse tea and light food every day, devoted himself to cultivating Buddhism, and the days passed day by day.

This day is the eighth day of the fourth month of the lunar calendar, and the temple celebrates the birthday of the Buddha Shakyamuni and holds a solemn bath in the Buddha. In the hall of the Daxiong Treasure, the Buddha horn is sounded, and the Sanskrit is sung clearly. Qu Feng and the other eight brothers stood in front of the abbot and the monk, standing in the hall with a mantle in hand. They are the monks who will participate in the dervishes this year, and from today until the eighth day of April next year, they will walk in the mortal world for a year, raising money and begging for good karma. "Those who should be able to cross, if all the heavens and the earth know that they have crossed, and those who have not crossed have also made the causes." The deep voice of the non-precept monk resounded in the hall, and the four disciples clasped their palms in praise.

At noon, Qu Feng and other nine monks traveled down the mountain, and when they reached the foot of the mountain, everyone said goodbye and went their separate ways.

The weather in April is warm and comfortable, with flowers everywhere and spring fragrances everywhere. A young monk walks on a country road, wandering clouds, enjoying the breath of spring.

"Boy! Look for death! A rude shout came from afar. Qu Feng raised his eyes and saw that there was a small tea pavilion at the intersection in front of him, for passers-by to drink tea and rest. In front of the tea pavilion, a strong man with a black beard was about to whip a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy with a leather whip in his hand.

Qu Feng stepped forward, came to the side of the black strong man, raised his hand and grabbed the strong man's whip-holding hand: "Amitabha, the donor has to be forgiving and forgiving, good, good." ”

"Little monk, don't meddle! Hum! As soon as the strong man pushed Qu Feng away, he raised his hand and whipped Xiaoxiao Huazi, "He stole our young master's things, and I have to peel his skin today!" ”

Hanako, who was sitting on the ground, was gnawing on the chicken leg as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't know that the strong man's whip was about to hit him. Seeing that the whip was about to fall on his face, Qu Feng hurriedly pushed it backhanded, pushing Xiao Huazi aside, avoiding the strong man's whip. The little screaming Hanako who was sitting on the ground was pushed by Qu Feng and fell to the ground, and the chicken leg in his hand also slipped to the ground. "You pay, you pay, you pay my chicken legs!" The man wiped his nose, sat on the ground and pointed at Qu Feng and shouted.

"Donor, the little monk didn't mean it." Qu Feng replied, very helpless in his heart.

The strong man on the side looked at it and smiled coldly: "Nosy!" Qu Feng's face turned red.

"Big black, forget it, put that little flower in it." A nice woman's voice came from the tea pavilion.

"Yes, young master." The black-faced man swept past with a fierce look on his face just now, and replied respectfully.

"Dahei, please come in and sit down." The woman said again.

"Little master, please." Da Hei said.

Qu Feng straightened his clothes and walked into the tea pavilion. The little flower on the ground also stood up and followed behind Qu Feng.

At a table in the center of the tea pavilion, there sat a woman wearing a hat and a pink shirt, her hair was like a cloud, her posture was enchanting, and her demeanor was all directions, and behind her were two young maids in green clothes.