Moving on, the tombstone changed again.

These tombstones are still very simple, written in pen and ink, and they are erected for the son and the woman.

The little monk was in a heavy mood, and after passing through this cemetery, he was in a better mood.

The crops in front of them showed signs of being cultivated and harvested, and after crossing a small river that rattled with water, they came to the front of the village.

The firewood is not hidden, and the chickens and dogs are not smelled.

He walked to a courtyard and saw a woman burning a fire with her back to him, her hands folded: "Amitabha, little monk..."

The woman was startled, and instantly stood back, and fell back in terror, almost burning her clothes.

"Donor, be careful!" the little monk reminded her.

The woman cried out, "Someone, someone has entered the village, Aunt Niu, someone has entered the village," she ran to the fence and shouted.

The quiet village was in chaos in an instant, and when the little monk was at a loss, in an instant, a group of women with kitchen knives and hoes surrounded the little monk and looked at him angrily.

"Say!" said the woman named Aunt Niu, with a bucket waist, strong arms, and full of energy, "Who asked you to come!"

The little monk was taken aback, "Donor, the little monk came from Yangzhou in the Eastern Wilderness, went to the Central Plains, passed through here, just asked for a scoop of water, a bowl of rice, and left tomorrow, there is no malice, you..."

"The monster asked you to come!" Aunt Niu interrupted him, "Isn't it!"

The monk didn't speak, and the little monk nodded weakly, "Yes, yes." ”

"Die!" Aunt Niu forked towards the little monk.

"Stop!" a trembling voice came from outside the crowd, not imposing enough, but majestic.

The crowd moved out of the way, and the little monk saw an old woman, with white hair like frost, a furrow on her face, walking over with the support of a little woman, on crutches.

"Monk, monk?" she raised her eyelids like old bark and looked at the little monk.

"Yes", the little monk hurriedly folded his hands, bowed to the old woman, grabbed the last straw and explained: "The little monk was walking on the mountain road, and was caught by the monster, and he couldn't help but escort me over, and then ......"

The little monk told him everything that happened after he met the little monster.

After speaking, the little monk looked at the old woman quietly.

The old woman nodded imperceptibly, kept not speaking, looked at the little monk, and after a long time: "You are still a child, if Xiaosha survives, it will be almost as big as you." ”

"Mother...", the little woman next to her whispered.

The old woman said to the other women, "It's just a child, don't be too nervous." ”

"But he's a man, or was he caught by a monster..."Aunt Niu looked at the little monk warily.

"We know what they have in mind, so let's let him sleep in the ancestral hall if we don't care. The old woman said, and looked at the little monk again: "The old body actually has something to rely on." ”

The little monk breathed a sigh of relief, hurriedly clasped his hands together and said, "The donor said that it doesn't matter." ”

"Help us do a ritual," the old woman straightened up and looked at the dense tombstones behind the little monk, "They are in a hurry, we want them to be peaceful after they die." ”

The little monk nodded and agreed.

The women then got out of the way and let the little monk follow the old woman to the ancestral hall for fasting.

As he walked all the way, he saw a dead silence over the village, and there were no men or other animals, only women.

It is inevitable to ask about those graves, those people.

"Our village migrated from the Central Plains and lived in a paradise-like valley, where silkworms farmed, self-sufficiency, and reproduced. The old woman sat down, watched the little monk eat fast, and talked about the origin of the village.

The village was originally peaceful, with occasional monster attacks, but they were also small monsters.

"Until 10 years ago......"

There was a youkai in the neighborhood who regularly begged the village for food from a boy or a virgin every month, otherwise the whole village would be destroyed.

At first, for the sake of the peace of the whole village, the villagers were forced to sacrifice.

During this time, they tried to escape, but they were driven back again by the monster's men.

They also sent people to quietly escape and invite the Demon Hunter to come and catch the Demon. Among these people, there are occasionally those who escape and are not caught, but there is no demon hunter who is willing to come to this deep mountain and old forest, and finally meet a demon hunter who is willing to come, but he is not the opponent of the monster.

Every time it fails, the youkai will ask for one more boy or girl, or else they will threaten to slaughter the village.

Unable to flee and fight, the villagers did one thing: all the men in the village gathered, grabbed weapons, lit torches, and rushed to the cave where the yokai lived.

"They never came back. The old woman said softly.

The ancestral hall was quiet, no one spoke, but the little monk heard sighs echoing among the beams of the ancestral hall, echoing...

Later, when the yokai came to ask for children, the woman herself fed the poison to her own children and delivered them into the hands of the yokai.

Only for revenge.

However, the monster is strong and still safe and sound.

In desperation, the women buried their children with their own hands, and from then on, the village was left dead, never again.

"There is no way in the sky!" the old woman Huo Ran stood up, and her crutches smashed on the ground.

"But we have to live, live, live, even become a living ghost, and I will wait until the day he dies!!"

The women knew that the purpose of the monsters to capture the little monks was nothing more than to keep them in captivity so that they could continue to feed the boys and girls.

The little monk hurriedly shook his head, "No, no, the little monk is a monk, and he won't die..."

The old woman waved her hand and asked the little monk to hurry up and fast, and prepare the ritual later, "When you leave tomorrow, we will prepare dry food for you." ”

With the support of the little woman, the old woman led the people away, leaving the little monk alone to eat in the ancestral hall.

After fasting and eating, he changed into the monk's robe prepared for him by the master, bast shoes, as well as wooden fish and mallet, and the little monk walked out of the ancestral hall solemnly.

Outside, the women of the village were already waiting.

The little monk passed through them, out of the village, across the river, and on the ridges where they were still farming.

Black clouds hit the sky, covering the sun on the valley tightly.

The wind suddenly picked up the corners of the little monk's clothes.

Falling leaves are flying all over the sky, and the little monk walks alone among the graves, praying for everyone who has died, and chanting sutras for everyone.

The scriptures in his mouth are all ripe with the rolling melons on the back of the little monk.

But for the first time, he felt that the scriptures were very unfamiliar, so strange that he read them, but he didn't know what they were.

Yesterday, dry corpses were rampant, millions of corpses were ambushed, and grass was killed in front of them; today's graves are full of grief and indignation, and they are flowing backwards into a river.

He once asked Master why there are so many sorrows in the world, such as life, death, regret, and parting.

Master said that at this time, there is a whirling world, and whirling is sorrow.

Life is created by oneself, the phase is born from the heart, everything in the world is incarnated, the heart does not move, everything does not move, the heart does not change, everything does not change.

However, in the face of today's variety, the mountains and rains are coming, the heavens and the earth are sad, how can his heart not move.

The little monk walked through every grave, prayed for every tombstone, touched the temperature of every respectable life, and became more and more confused.

What is a Buddha and what is a Buddha.

His ears rang with what Master had said to him when he left: "Master goes out for a walk, and you, you have to figure out which Buddha you worship when you kneel in front of the Buddha and chant sutras." ”

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