In the purple sand tea cup on the square table, the white mist rises, and the old face of the abbot is even more illusory. There were four people in the pen www.biquge.info, and he laughed softly, as if this story was meant for four people to hear.

Outside the window, the breeze floats, and the young leaves sing their own songs happily in the silent night, making a rustling sound. Insects are not to be outdone to join this team, competing for beauty, as if they can't judge who is the king of singers, and they will not give up.

The abbot picked up the tea cup on the table, took a sip, and gradually swept his eyes over the four people, and then hung down quickly, he propped one hand on his lap, pondered for a moment, and then slowly spoke.

In the winter of 1927, at the foot of Mount Hua.

"Master...... Master...... You're waiting...... I can't walk! ”

The crisp children's voice echoed in the valley where thousands of people disappeared, and a little monk in a gray monk's robe walked and stopped, and finally simply squatted on the ground and sprinkled coquettishly.

His fleshy face was not as smooth and delicate as the other children, but like the dry bark of an unprotected tree. It was blown by the wind as if it was coated with a layer of rouge, and it was red. In winter, the northwest wind is very arrogant, and it will blow every person, as if to show off that it has a swallow's tail sharper than scissors.

"Master......" he pouted unhappily, with an expression that if you ignore me, I will cry.

The old master, who was struggling to move forward on crutches in front, turned around, looked at him playing with his temper, looking coquettish, smiled, and stretched out his frostbite hand: "Mi Tu...... Come here. ”

In the end, he is just a four or five-year-old child, his heart is uncertain, and his temper comes and goes quickly.

Hearing Master's voice, he raised his head suddenly, smiled happily, his eyes narrowed into a slit, jumped up, patted the dust on the monk's robe, and jumped towards Master.

The figures of the master and apprentice have left a beautiful mark on the desolate land.

"Master, can we find medicinal herbs?" Mi Tu asked innocently with a look of innocence with a pair of black and white eyes.

"Yes."

"Then can we save Uncle Shi?"

"Yes."

The five-year-old child still doesn't know what life and death are, he just knows that as long as he finds the medicinal materials that adults say, his uncle who loves him will not go far away.

"Mi Tu Na obediently stay here, Master go up and take a look, and come down in a while, okay?" The old man glanced up at the steep mountain wall, touched the top of Mi Tu's smooth head, reached out and took out a hard sweet potato steamed bun from the cloth bag, handed it to him, and asked his opinion with some concern.

Mi Tu learned from the master's example, looked up at the towering cliff for a while, knew that he couldn't climb up, nodded obediently, and said with a straight look: "Well, Master go quickly, Mi Tu will obediently wait for Master to come back." As he spoke, he patted his chest and promised.

His small body sat on a white stone, nibbling on hard steamed buns and looking around. When I was bored, I shook my two little short legs and played games with other children in the temple on weekdays, and I had a lot of fun.

I took another bite of the steamed bun, chewed it up with a rattle, and swallowed it at once. He looked down at the remaining half of the steamed buns, his little hand clenched tightly, thought for a while, opened the small cloth bag on his body, and reluctantly put it in. Slowly turning over, with his arms propped on the stones, he slid down, and ran to the entrance of the mountain stack with the ants on his feet, standing on tiptoe and looking at it with his neck crossed.

After waiting for a while, I sat back in my original position again and again, and so on.

A figure was vaguely seen on the narrow plank road, Mi Tu reached out and rubbed his eyes, waved his hand happily for a while, and then put his hand to his mouth to make a trumpet shape, pouting and twisting his buttocks: "Master...... Master......"

His deafening voice startled the crows hidden in the dead trees.

The old man carefully held on to the cliff wall, heard the voice coming from the bottom of the mountain, stared at the small figure, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly with a gentle arc.

Mi Tu suddenly saw that not far away on a stone was placed a brand-new flower cloth mattress with the characteristics of the times, tightly tied together, he sighed like a master, and slowly shook his head, looking pity, who would throw away the bedding well? Really......

Before he could come up with a definite adjective, his little mind was interrupted. The old master touched the top of his head lovingly, and a deep voice came from above: "Mitu, what's wrong?" ”

Mi Tu frowned his short and lovely brow, tilted his ears, heard a faint cry, and shook his master's hand hesitantly.

"What's wrong?" The old master looked at the other person's little ghost, lowered his head and asked.

"Master, there seems to be a cry."

"Crying?"

"Uh-huh...... I just heard that. Mi Tu nodded again and again like pounding garlic, and his cute appearance was very cute.

"Listen, there's another voice."

When the old man listened carefully, there was really a faint cry. He settled his mind, carefully discerning the source of the sound, and fixed his eyes on the brand-new flower cloth mattress.

Mi Tu tilted his head and saw the master's slightly narrowed eyes, so he followed his line of sight, and his eyes widened, could it be that the cry came from there?

The master and apprentice glanced at each other, straightened up in a very coordinated manner, and walked over holding hands in a neat manner.

The mattress was neatly wrapped, the red string was tied with a beautiful bow on the front, Mitu quickly climbed onto the stone, gently lifted the corner of the fold on the top of the baby's head, and the baby's white and tender face came into view.

"Master......" Mi Tu cried crisply.

"Huh?"

"He's so pitiful, let's take him back!"

The old master glanced at Mi Tu, who was holding back tears, slowly shook his head, and couldn't help but sigh and sigh, he was born at the wrong time! In this chaotic era, everyone is having a hard time.

He nodded at Mitu and smiled: "Okay, our Mitu said to take it back, and we will take it back." ”

If he hadn't been admitted to Buddhism, I'm afraid he wouldn't have survived!

Mi Tu happily teased the baby, thought about it, took out half of his steamed bun, put it to his mouth, the baby's bright eyes curiously the black steamed bun, still hanging crystal clear tears, as if asking, can this be eaten?

"Silly boy, how can such a young child eat steamed buns, you, you still keep it for yourself." The old master laughed a few times and explained softly.

"That's it!" Mi Tu regretfully took the steamed bun back and put it back into his treasure chest.

The old man reached out and picked up the baby, reached out and patted him gently on the mattress to soothe his uneasiness. After a while, he looked up and said to Mitu, who was staring at him curiously, "Let's go, we must hurry back to the village, or in a while, he will cry again." ”

Mi Tu jumped down from the stone at once, and the old man was frightened.

"Master, did you find the medicinal herbs just now?" For fear that the master would get angry, Mi Tu was very smart and quickly changed the topic.

"Hmmm......"

"Shall we go back then?"

"Hmmm......"

The old man held the small one in one hand and the big one in the other, one big and two small, and the dusty monk's robes were blown up, leaving only the long backs of the three of them.